That night, John didn’t come back, and I was worried he drank too much at the gathering and might have a stomach problem. I searched from his office to the bar where they last celebrated.
I looked for him bar by bar. During the search, someone tried to drag me into a nearby staircase, and I cried in fear, but I was more worried about John.
Until I saw John and Emily holding hands in a bar not far away, I felt like a huge joke.
That night, a heavy rainstorm hit. Emily had John holding an umbrella for her, while I, just across the street, became a truly homeless drenched rat.
The next day, John came back and saw my messy self sitting on the sofa. He was startled.
He looked at me and asked, “You look like a madwoman. Who are you trying to scare?”
I went up and slapped him twice. I asked him, “Did you think of the person at home who couldn’t find you while you were with Emily?”
John saw my hysterical look and pushed me to the ground: “Anna, you’re insane. You have mental issues. I'm afraid you might kill me one day. You're really sick now."
Indeed, I felt sick. As long as he was with Emily, I thought they were making love.