Chapter 444: An Awkward Situation

Martina cried, but remained adamant. Manuel unconsciously clenched his fist, watching as her clothes fell to the floor. She hadn't been wearing much to begin with, and soon she was down to her underwear. His leg, still unhealed, made it difficult to rise, but he struggled from the sofa to stop her. As he approached, her bra slipped off, and she rushed into his arms. He was unsteady on his one good foot, and her strength caused them both to fall. He landed on the ground with her on top, and she kissed him eagerly, perhaps fearing his refusal, which indeed came. He pushed her away, but as he grasped her arm, the door opened.

Susan witnessed the intimate scene. Had this not been Manuel's home, she wouldn't have believed her eyes. The timing was terrible, and her presence was deeply unsettling. Manuel and Martina both saw her. Susan only recognized Martina when she turned her head. Since their divorce, Susan had worried about his loneliness; needless to say, her concerns were unfounded. Manuel had never lacked for admirers, and Martina, a somewhat unhinged one, was among them.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt," Susan said. "I just came back to collect my things." Their divorce necessitated her clearing her belongings from the house. After dinner with Henry, she'd decided to retrieve them; leaving them here had always felt odd. She should have called first. It was mortifying. "It doesn't seem like a good time," she added. "I'll come back tomorrow."

"No need," Manuel replied curtly.

He picked up his cane, pushed Martina away, and stood. Martina stood as well, arms shielding her chest. Manuel, with some difficulty, retrieved her coat to cover her, then led her to the sofa. He didn't look at Susan, merely saying, "You can pack first."

What did he mean? Did he imply they could resume once she finished?

Susan gritted her teeth. It wasn't her concern who Manuel was with. Her upset stemmed from his deception. She'd assumed the divorce would leave him depressed for a long time. She'd clearly overestimated.

Susan quickly packed. She wanted to leave and avoid further disruption. Soon, she carried out two suitcases.

"I'm finished," she stated.

Manuel nodded.

"Sorry to bother you," she said politely, then departed, resolute and emotionless.

The awkwardness hung in the air. The door closed.

Martina looked at Manuel, who remained aloof.

"You should go too," he said.

"Manuel…"

"After the divorce, I decided to try a new relationship, and I accepted your advances. But I can't, not now, at least."

"Do you still care for her? Henry and Susan have slept together. Why are you still thinking about her?" Martina demanded.

Had they slept together? He didn't think so. Henry owned twenty percent of Phillips Bank's shares, and had promised not to. But it didn't matter now; he was preoccupied.

"You should leave," he said.

"Manuel, I don't need your affection or responsibility."

"If you want to be with me, it doesn't have to be this way."

Martina looked at him.

"Don't be so cheap," Manuel said. "Be good to yourself."

He was speaking to himself as well. He then hobbled to his room, closed the door, and locked it. He surveyed the room; Susan had cleaned thoroughly.

...

Susan carried two large suitcases downstairs, where Henry waited. She'd kept him from coming upstairs, fearing it might distress him. She considered Henry deeply, instinctively wanting to treat him better; she'd never felt that way about Manuel, a difference she attributed to her love for Henry.

Henry met her, took the suitcases, and loaded them into the car. They drove away.

"What's wrong? You don't look well," Henry asked.

"Nothing," Susan offered a weak smile, unaware of her appearance.

"I saw some embarrassing scenes," she said.

"What?" Henry's curiosity was piqued.

"Just kidding," Susan laughed, avoiding details about Manuel. She changed the subject.

They arrived at Jadeite Apartments. Henry helped her inside.

"It's late. Rest. I'll go home," Henry said.

Susan nodded. "Can't you stay?"

He'd been with her almost daily since she moved out, yet returned home each night. Wasn't cohabitation before marriage the norm for modern couples?

"You've just had a miscarriage. I don't want to do anything that might hurt you."

"We can live together and not have sex."

"You give men too much credit. Men can't help themselves in bed," Henry chuckled. "Tomorrow's another day."

Susan pursed her lips.

"I'll be with you every day. Don't be so down."

Susan nodded, understanding his concern.

"Rest well. See you tomorrow."

"See you."

Susan watched him leave, uncertain of her feelings. Neither sad nor happy, simply calmer than expected.