15 Why though?

Said husband made a slight gesture of acknowledgement. The chef smiled and spoke a little more before departing.

"Do you wish to order something more?"

My husband questioned from the side when the chef had departed. It's food, no way will I even say no, so I agreed saying one word lazily, unwilling to say more right now.

"Sure,"

First, when the server arrived we ordered our respective drinks.

I'm all for women admiring handsome or pretty things, but when the "said things" is mine: I get kind of antsy.

For example, the server who took our orders took extra care to eye f*c* my husband, well she can look I eye f*c* him too, so let's do that together lady but after you know it wasn't so much fun anymore.

I also enjoy reading him, touching and teasing him, but those privileges are for me.

Not for another chick! I had him out on loan too much and repossessed him for a few months only and to make matters worse I haven't been laid yet!

So I'm sorry, but if this server's hand grazes his, breathes on him just too hard or barely inhales him, I will slam her head on the table and kick her like I would a football.

"Satrya, your Fury,"

My husband said from directly in front of me. I relaxed and smiled at him, shoving the rising violent thoughts aside, while his piercing gaze stared at me as if I was his prey.

This man was so seriously, panty-melting, ***sy dripping sexy!

ah, gods, I should i-n-d-u-l-g-e.

I kept my smile and looked around slowly letting it drop when my eyes landed on my ex-boss.

To put it bluntly, I had decided to resign. What I did was unprofessional actually even stating in the contract right there in the article 70;

[... the hired party must take note of this section of article 70 section 12:1.5 any unprofessional acts in the presence of said boss, etc; raising voices beyond required level for a person standing three (3) meters away, abusive language, assault on any party...]

Ah, and right, it was right there I had failed around three of those, paired with the constant questioning look he had given me I had strengthened my resolve, no matter he had asked me every other day until I felt like roaring that I was fine, though to be honest dude to being constantly questioned I didn't.

Maybe I should have body-slammed him, so I could feel better. Ah well, I missed my chance once again, but I'm sure an opportunity will arrive.

My food arrived, and I forgot about him digging into my meal. That chapter of my life was over anyway plus it'd be hard for him to notice me from that angle.

Totally focused on my food I thought that I looked like a lady really I did, my back was straight I used a knife and fork and not a crumb dropped because of the saying "waste not, want not".

Either way, five thousand a plate was the price for an average meal. I mean who in their right mind would waste such precious food, yeh not me. Nope, I savoured every bite until I cleaned the plate in a ladylike way. No, I didn't lick it or used an index finger... Even if I wanted to so badly, I held it in. I struggled f*c* I struggled not to chew the bones though because the marrow was the best part but yeh...

"Would you like a steak and potatoes?" he questioned, seeing as I was still not satisfied after the meal.

I hesitated, this was what he did each time by indulging me he spent more and more without a care of the costs.

I really had no desire for his account having a dent, with him paying for everything on a normal day hunting and bringing back fresh kills was the least I can do and continue to attempt making some artless of clothing and shoes.

while all I did with my own money, on the other hand, was use it for food even the dumb a*s like me repeatedly refusing his card, normal women I read would take the card but really am I normal?

My dear husband, even if he is more like a stone statue. Like, seriously! I think he was carved from stone, his face hardly displays any emotion; I mean, I don't mind, I can still watch him. But ugh!

He's no different from a painting... The painting except he's flesh and blood and I can touch and grope him whenever I have the urge to.

He had his good points though, after all, he bought me shoes, no more of those hideous bags but shoes, like real leather, boots that were shy from my calf, a bit past my ankles that were in various colours and sizes I squealed inwardly at the memory.

"Satrya your emotions are showing,"

His voice startled me, and I immediately tried my best to get a hold of myself.

Of course, I bought some material and made him a sort of a stretchy shirt in bubble gum pink, a pullover and some socks... I found it funny the colours, but he wore them and I still every time he did; it was unfair that whoever made males and females decided to you know make males so perfect.

They had to put five percent effort into a woman who had to shave, pluck, scrub, cut, apply makeup, style hair and select clothes that take up more than half of her time to "prepare" why though? Is it because we wanted to be perfect?

I've even taken a picture of myself with my husband and sure I looked awesome, but he looked just as perfect, no cream, no styling of his hair except a brush to sweep it aside.

Envy, pure envy!

What was even worse; in all of history, the style of men barely changed, women... Well, women, it was a f*cking metamorphosis!

My steak arrived quicker than I had thought but it was probably because I was busy in my head, devouring the meat and potatoes I then pushed the empty plate aside to gently wipe my lips, you know to seem like a civilised person even if it took about three minutes to devour said steak.

Reaching over I opened my small purse, a gift dear husband had gotten me last month. It was extremely cute.

Opening it, I took out the pocket mirror and reapplied lipstick because women should always make their lips colourful, right? The waitress came as I was smoothing the edges out so I didn't have lipstick applied where it shouldn't be.

With a glance at the server, I saw her a bit too close and grew excited because now I can release my frustration within reason, like slapping her until she was left with a breath, but ah, I was shot down and felt utterly suddenly depressed.

He had leaned back, saving her life.

Why, though?

Lucky b*tch.