Ex husband's Plea for Forgiveness

Melinda was cold to her husband the whole night, and it wore on his already fragile state. He wanted to vent his emotions
somewhere; they were becoming too heavy for him to carry for much longer.
But every time he felt like he could no longer bear it, every time he moved to do something, the memory of the past afternoon
reared its head like a glowering beast ready to devour him.
Then he would grow somber, and become dispirited, and would always end up retreating back into his own room.
The place had been his bedroom not so long ago.
But as he stood there, he had the vague sense that it didn’t belong to him anymore, didn’t welcome in the way it always did in the
past. The walls were painted a light of slate gray, and gave off a cool, sort of emotionless atmosphere to the room.
He had few personal belongings left here; he had brought most of them with him to Melinda’s room. In fact, this room had been
rather empty for a while now. Only servants would come up regularly to clean.
Jonas sat at the edge of the bed and ran his hands down his face. Then he flung his body back on the covers, arms out, and
stared at the ceiling.
The room felt cold. Was it always this cold in here? He hadn’t felt this cold since he started sharing a room with his wife.
He missed the warm, cozy feeling he would always have once he stepped in there. A faint scent of her shampoo or her lotion
would always linger in the air, in the pillows she slept on. The sight of her cluttered desk always brought him comfort, despite the
disarray.
He closed his eyes and sighed heavily. Emily’s parting words echoed in his mind. Jonas hesitated for a moment, then took out
his phone and dialed a sequence of numbers.
"Jonas." Emily answered his call almost immediately.
"Are you free right now?"
Although his tone was still cold and a little hostile, Emily took it as a good sign. She honestly doubted he would never call her at
all, but there it was.
She would be stupid if she didn’t take advantage of that opportunity. Maybe she could worm her way into his heart again.

She knew all too well how badly her presence could strain Jonas's marriage; if she played her cards right, she could widen the
rift between the couple, and Yulia could land the finishing blow.
"Yes of course," she answered hurriedly, afraid that he might change his mind. Realizing she might come off as desperate, she
changed her tone and tried to sound coy. "Would you like to meet up?"
"Yes." Jonas's answer was curt, and his voice terse.
He couldn’t get anything done even if he wanted to anyway. The documents were sent over from his office, but he wasn’t in the
right state of mind to be dealing with business at the moment.
He was consumed by yesterday’s events, and since he could not distract himself from those horrid thoughts, he decided he
might as well dive into it.
And his muddled brain inferred that in order to understand the inner workings of a woman’s mind, perhaps he needed to speak
with a woman.
It was just that the woman he needed to be communicating with had shut herself off from him.
"I’m guessing you’re in a bad mood," Emily said carefully. "What do you say we go to a bar? I know somewhere that's really cozy
and private. You can unwind and relax there without worrying about a thing."
Jonas said yes without thinking. He wasn’t capable of thinking straight anyway. Emily then gave him the name and address of
the place, and he went to change his clothes after they hung up.
As soon as he was out on the hall, his feet took him straight to Melinda’s door. He stood there for a few moments, hesitating,
wanting to call out to his wife.
In the end he turned without doing anything and left the villa, the tires of his black sports car screeching as he drove out of the
mansion gates.
Contrary to Emily’s claims that the bar was "private," it was packed with what looked to be a very fun-loving crowd that night.
As soon as Jonas entered, heads turned to his direction, eyeing him up and down as he strode to the bar counter. Women in
various groups of three or five huddled and twittered among themselves as they ogled and pointed at him.
"Long Island Iced Tea," he ordered as soon as he reached the counter.

"Hey handsome," a woman in a short, silver strapless dress sidled next to him. "Why don’t you try some Stay Out Tonight?"
She drawled out the name of the drink, grinning at him with a sort of vulgar invitation. Stay Out Tonight was, in fact, a rather
strong drink, and not a lot of people could hold it in.
The smell of the drink alone was enough to make the weaker ones dizzy. It had a dangerously high alcohol content.
Jonas shot the woman a look of disgust once, and then ignored her. The bartender said nothing as he prepared the drink that
was ordered and placed it gently on the counter. Jonas downed his glass in a single gulp.
The cocktail had none of the effect he was aiming at, so he motioned for the bartender again. "Whiskey."
The glasses kept coming after that. Whiskey was known to burn the throat as it went down, but Jonas just kept throwing it back
as if it were non-alcoholic.
With the amount that he was drinking, the bartender worried at some point that he may not be able to pay for everything he
ordered. Luckily, he recognized the famous brands that Jonas wore, including his expensive watch.
Soon it was well past his meeting time with Emily, but the woman still wasn’t in sight. Not that Jonas cared.
He was finally starting to feel numb against all the angst he was holding inside. He slammed his glass on the counter as he
downed another shot.
"Would you like another refill, sir?" the bartender asked warily. 'Can he handle some more? Won't anything happen to him later
on if he keeps this up?'
Although it was a common trope to drown one’s sorrows in alcohol—and the bartender had indeed seen many such scenes
throughout his years—there were few who had ever drunk as much as Jonas was drinking.
"Aw, it’s no fun to drink alone," came a woman’s soft voice. "Let me drink with you." Vaguely, Jonas saw a hand shoot out and
grab his yet untouched refill of whiskey. He imagined the woman must have chucked the drink herself in the silence that
followed.
But very soon he heard a choking sound, and then there was endless coughing. He finally opened his eyes wide to get a good
look at the woman beside him, though he was still in an obvious daze.
Emily’s throat was on fire.

"Are you all right?" the bartender asked her as she kept on coughing, and then handed her a glass of water which she downed in
a couple of gulps. She was gasping for air when Jonas finally recognized her.
"Hey, here you are!"
He signaled the bartender for another glass of whiskey, and this time the latter was prompt with his refill, no longer worried.
Company had come for the drunk customer, after all. Whatever happened after they left the bar counter was no longer any of his
concern.
"Do you have any empty seats out there?" Emily leaned over the counter as she asked. "Please arrange a booth for us."
The bartender complied, and they were soon ushered into one of the VIP rooms. Emily gave out her order, and a platter of fruit
and a bottle of wine was brought to them.
Jonas was drifting in and out of consciousness. They had a perfect view of what was going on down on the floor, where a
performance of some sort went on, but he didn’t give a damn. To him, they just happened to change their location, but the
drinking was still in full swing.
"Sorry I was late," Emily said in a breathy voice. "I got held up in traffic."
She took a sip of the mixed wine, which was exponentially milder than the whiskey, and felt a little better after her awful coughing
fit. The truth was that she had been in the bar long before Jonas showed up, but didn’t approach him until he got himself visibly
drunk.
"What did you say?" Jonas asked, his senses impeded by all the alcohol he consumed.
Emily didn’t mind it, and repeated herself calmly. She didn’t stop him from downing more drinks, either, and would refill his glass
when it was empty.
The music started to get louder, until they had to lean closer to each other to hear what they were saying.
"Jonas," Emily whispered in his ear. "Let’s go dance."
She stood up and pulled Jonas, who staggered to his feet. They moved into the crowded dance floor. Jonas's ears were ringing
with all the noise. His head was aching, and the room was spinning. He struggled to get his bearings, and moved to leave the
dance floor, but Emily quickly clutched at his sleeves and pulled him back.

She danced around Jonas, throwing her hands up in the air as she swung her hips seductively to the music. Jonas only stood
there and narrowed his eyes. A crowd of dancers came between them, and in the blink of an eye they were separated practically
by a sea of people. Several girls immediately pounced on him, pulling at his arms and shoulders from all directions.
"Hey handsome, let’s dance!" One of the girls curled her arm around Jonas's and tugged, but he only pushed her away.
Emily saw it all play out, and smiled to herself in satisfaction. It was obvious Jonas wasn’t used to this kind of scenes, with all the
people and the loud noise. With great difficulty, she made her way back to his side and grabbed at his clothes.
She stood on tiptoe to once again whisper in his ear. "Jonas, there are too many people here. Should we hold hands so we don’t
get separated again?"
He didn’t react to what she said. He only looked around once, and reluctantly let Emily hold on to his arm. At that, her grin only
grew wider, and she looked very much like a cat that swallowed a bird.
The DJ began to play some fiery beat, and the dance floor immediately ignited.
Emily was down with the music, and kept dancing around Jonas, shaking her hips unnecessarily, constantly brushing against his
body and trying to whisper in his ear.
Jonas made no attempt to push her away; in fact, he didn’t show any sign of irritation at all. Instead, he remained a stoic wall of
ice, and if there was anything brewing in him, it was impatience. She soon had to give up her little show to save face, since
people were starting to stare at them: a woman seemingly desperate to seduce a man who displayed blatant disinterest.
The moment she stopped her "dancing," Jonas strode back to their booth. And he promptly resumed drinking.
As she realized his behavior was all rooted to Melinda, Emily’s head clouded with jealousy. "Jonas, won’t you stop drinking?
There’s a lot of other fun things to do here. How about we play dice?"
He did not reply, but Emily was not to be dissuaded. She asked some of the people around them to come play with them. In a
matter of seconds, their booth was filled with players.
"I’ll call the number first!" Emily initiated. She was used to this kind of stuff after all. The players began to roll the dice, and
although he didn’t want to, Jonas had no choice but to join in as well.
Despite being under heavy influence of alcohol, he was quick to recognize that none of the players was a match against him.

He had a good eye for observation, and kept track when the others were bluffing. It didn’t take long for him to identify their tells.
More importantly, being the ruthless businessman that he was, he had a talent for speculation, and his hunches were always
right.
After a few rounds, several players Emily invited got obviously drunk. Jonas was about to throw the dice when he suddenly felt
Emily leaning close to him. "Jonas, that person..." she whispered as she looked at him with frightened eyes. She motioned to the
man beside her. "He’s been touching my hands and brushing against my legs frequently."
Jonas looked over and saw the man in question biting into a watermelon, minding his own business. "Jonas," Emily whined
urgently, tugging at his arm. "Help me."
Needless to say, the man did nothing of what she accused him to have done. He might have glanced at her a couple of times,
but made no move to assault her or cause any kind of trouble.
Jonas did not know this, of course. His inebriated state, coupled with the pressure from Emily, drove reason out of his judgment,
and he pulled Emily up and made her sit on his other side.
The man turned to him in concern. "Is something wrong, buddy?"
"You don’t deserve to call me buddy!" Without preamble, Jonas rose from his seat and landed a violent punch on the man’s face.
The man fell to the floor, and girls began to scream.
Jonas was on a rampage, and he seemed no longer able to fully control his own actions. "I dare you to call me that again! Who
do you think you are, talking to me like that? Did you think I’d let you crawl out of this place alive?"
The man struggled to get back on his feet. One hand covered his bleeding mouth as he tried to get his bearings. He might have
broken a tooth or two.
He actually came from a rich family himself, and was a regular at this bar. As such, most of the staff, as well as many other
regulars, knew him.
People quickly swarmed around him as soon as the scuffle broke out. "How dare you beat up my bro!" a burly man roared. "Do
you want to die?" He lunged at Jonas with his fist, but the latter was quick to dodge the blow.
He may have been drunk, but his instincts were still sharp, honed in the years that made him known as a tyrant.

Besides, all the violent energy thrumming in the air only served to sharpen his senses even more. If anything, Jonas was even
more terrifying now than he usually was in the corporate jungle.
Out there he would control himself and temper his attacks when he lashed out. But in here there was no stopping him.
He had already hit a man without hesitation, so hard the skin was beginning to bruise.
"Holy shit, where’s the manager?" somebody called out. The incident was rapidly escalating, and something had to be done
before anything worse happened.
A couple of minutes later the manager was among them, and behind him stood several security guards.