HIS SWEET REVENGE

Celine’s POV

Guilt sips through me as I toss in bed. I have been deprived of sleeping on the bed since I came here and I am determined to sleep on the bed today with Jason. I locked the door and I am sure Bryan won’t catch me.

It’s past 1 am already and I can’t sleep. I keep thinking of what happened between Bryan and me last night. I feel guilty for picking up the wrong card. I feel guilty for thinking he wanted to do something when he pinned me to the wall.

I feel bad for thinking otherwise when it is obvious Bryan is cold-hearted. He can never be warm-hearted again till the end of time. He will always mistreat me and make me feel like a riff-raff.

I know I made a mistake by picking up the wrong credit card and not being observant enough to notice the difference between a travel card and a normal credit card which he asked us to use for the shopping.

I kept thinking of which particular suit he asked me to get out. I can’t believe I have forgotten about the color of the suit I picked out for him yesterday.

Bryan didn’t even ask how we managed to get out of the shopping mall alive without being skinned or thrown into a cell.

How can he be so heartless?

He is only concerned about his dignity and image.

I keep tossing in bed till I fall asleep. I am awakened by the ringing sound of my phone. When I open my eyes, grabbing the phone to put it off, I realize it is 4 am.

I groan softly, dragging myself up from the bed when I remember I have a job to do. I need to get Bryan’s dress ready for work. He works every single day. He goes to work every day, he barely stays at home.

I sit on the bed, trying to get the sleep off my eyes. When I am wide-eyed, I stand up straight and walk out of the room. I saunter to the room upstairs, holding onto the rails of the staircase.

As soon as I am in front of the door, I let out a yawn and open the door slightly to enter. I hurry to the room where the closet is located and enter.ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

I go through the clothes, trying my best to keep my eyes open. I get hold of a well-tailored brown Italian suit and pull it out. I stretch on my toes and try to pick the shoe on the upper section. I am hoping to get black suede shoes to complement the dress.

I grab a blue shoe instead, I hiss and drop it in frustration. I pick the one next to it and luckily it is a black shoe. I let out a sigh of relief.

Strolling to the inner bedroom where Bryan is sleeping, I enter carefully so as not to wake him up. I move to the sofa and drop the dress on the floor and the shoe on the floor before turning to go out so I can go back to sleep.

I am stopped in my tracks when I hear murmurings. With furrowed brows, I turn back abruptly to watch Bryan’s face, wondering if the murmur is coming from him. Everything is still. Silence fills the air. He isn’t moving either.

I scold myself mentally for having wild imaginative thoughts of a sleeptalking Bryan. I don’t think Bryan sleep talks and sleepwalks like me. I do that a lot before the birth of Jason but now the possibility of sleepwalking is low but I still sleep talk.

I take another step towards the exit so I can go out when I hear another murmur, but this time it is louder. I am sure it is coming from someone. I twirl round in panic, wondering if there is an intruder in the room when my gaze falls on Bryan moving on the bed. He is tossing with closed eyes.

Terrified, I stand frozen to the same spot with my mouth agape wondering what the hell is happening and why he is restless. I am short of actions to do as I stand still debating on what to do and how to help. Suddenly, it dawns on me when he calls out a name that Bryan is having a nightmare.

I rush to him before I can think of what is happening. He is almost falling off the bed but I am quick to get a hold of him and push him back on his bed. He cries out with his eyes closed and he struggles with me.

“Bryan, wake up!” I call out. Worry skated all over me.

He is trembling, struggling, shouting, and talking all at once. He is calling a strange name and I wonder who it belongs to. I grasp his hand but he pushes me away.

He is sweating all over despite the air condition in the room and tears spring to my eyes as I watch his restless body.

My hands start to get sweaty as I sit in confusion. I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know whether to leave him and go out, hoping he will be fine. I don’t know if waking him up is a good idea after what happened yesterday.

If I wake him up, will he consider it offensive?

I suck in the urge to cry and rise abruptly, rushing to the door. I can’t withstand this. I can’t watch him.

My heart hurts watching him this way. I feel sorry for him. I feel sorry for his dark past and the nightmares, wondering if it had just started or if it has started for a very long time.

I turn the doorknob about to go out when I turn back out of curiosity. To my amazement, Bryan is wide awake and watching me. Startled, I miss my step and almost fall to the floor.

He is still watching me and I stand with alarm. He isn’t saying anything but watching me intensely, still laying on the bed.

Abruptly, he sits up and steps down from the bed. He ignores me and walks to the sofa to pick up his dress. Since my presence isn’t known, I decided to go out but his voice stops me again.

“Come back here”, he orders with implacable authority.

His back is facing me and I wonder what is wrong. Without hesitation, I drag my feet closer to him with my astounded face.

“Clean it up”, he throws the suit at me. I am about to oppose him when I see the stain on the suit. It suddenly dawns on me that this particular suit is amongst the ones I dropped on the floor yesterday and I must have stepped on it.

I grab it immediately and run out to the other room. I scan through the arranged piles of suits before settling for another color. It is a black Armani suit.

I walk out of the room to give him the cloth but to my surprise, he isn’t inside his room. I hear the sound of the shower, he must be in the bathroom. I stand still with the dress in my hand till he comes out.

“Clean the shoes”, he instructs, making his presence in the room obvious. I look up and see the water dripping down from his black hair and glinting down his broad shoulder all the way to his airy chest. I forcefully turn my eyes away before he can notice anything.

I grab the shoe and wipe the surface with my dress. When I drop it, I see him arch a brow at me because of what I did. I am too lazy to go back to the room and look for the hankie for cleaning the shoes. He wants to talk but he keeps quiet.

“Henceforth, you will be the one to wake me up for work, wash my clothes and undress me before I take my bath”, he states and I exclaim loudly in disbelief.

“What?!”

Before I can process what he means by what he just told me, he shoots me a firm look and commands with a tone of authority.

“Go!”