The 12th Kiss

❁ the ugly truth

❁ the ugly truth          

 

When ice blue eyes met wild green ones, John knew he was in trouble. Big trouble. He hadn't told Jannet a single detail.

He didn't feel like talking to her anymore.

Jannet. Jannet. May, June, July, it doesn't matter anymore. He didn't care.

                She was in her police uniform. Slim, curves in the perfect places, light brown skin, black hair. She was in her attack position. She had a habit of doing that whenever she was angry, frustrated. John wouldn't be surprised if she was thinking of hundred ways to kill him.

                Light honey eyes caught John's attention. Metilda rushed Louis inside, her short brown locks bouncing on her shoulders.

                Jannet stopped in-front of John.

"What were you doing?"

                "It's not what it looks like."

She grinded her jaw. "Not what it looks like. You were about to kiss her."

                "There's a park down south street, let's talk there."

"Why not here? And why did your wife walk away like I'm some disease."

                "Please, Jannet. No drama, please."

"Oh, okay fine." She snapped her fingers. "Plus we both know who the drama queen is."

                She was talking about Metilda. John didn't contradict her, knowing that she was right.

❁❁❁❁

            [six months ago]

John was feeling absolutely blissful. He was getting promoted to a higher official position. It meant he no longer would have to rely on chief's order to run an investigation. He could request for a search warrant using his own name and he would get an entire department of detectives and policemen under his control.

Another reason for his happiness was Metilda. Yes, he never thought he would use happiness and Metilda in the same sentence but she had accepted Jannet's truth without a word. She just stared at him when he told her that he wanted to divorce her because he had fallen in love with a police officer.

John released a deep, content sigh. The police department was holding a small reception for him. He was on cloud nine that day. A group of officers, chief Bentel were congratulating John. It was the proudest moment of John's life.

Jannet had her arm wrapped around John. She was beaming at him as the officer's congratulated him.

In walked, Metilda. The numbness from yesterday had faded away. There was a range of expressions on her face, from sadness at John's betrayal, from anger at another woman holding her husband's arm.

She wore the sultriest black dress in her closet and the darkest blood red pumps. Her thighs were exposed and so was her midriff. John felt boggled at her attire. His Metilda never dressed sexy, never.

The entire party of men was staring at Metilda. She walked as a fierce lioness, her eyebrows draw in a tight line. John could feel Jannet's arm loosen around his arm.

"You?" Metilda pointed at Jannet. "Keep your hands off my husband,"

John's eyes widened. Hell, no. Metilda was here to humiliate him.  She was finally going to retaliate.  "Mel, come on. Don't create a scene."