To the Airport (2)
~~ On the Road ~~
~ *In the Car* ~
Previously,
Garret takes the opportunity of being alone in the car with Peony, a mischievous spark ignites in his mind.
He casually drapes his arm around Peony.
Peony shivers, a hint of apprehension in her voice.
"Well, close your eyes, and you'll see," Garret smirks, his demeanour carrying a mischievous edge.
Peony hesitates, dreading the prospect of his touch. However, she knows she can't evade forever. Once they reach the airport and depart for France, it will all be over..
He delicately touches her waist, intertwining her hands with his and leaning against her in the backseat.
~~~~
"Garret... wh-what are y-you do-doing?" Peony stammers, her voice betraying a mixture of uncertainty and fear. Before his touch, she entertained the notion of surrender, but now, an overwhelming sense of apprehension grips her—a fear of the unknown, a fear of him, a fear of being taken advantage of.
"Keep quiet. I don't like you asking me everything all the time. Just relax and savour this moment in memory," Garret smirks, his words wielding a dismissive authority. His lips, accompanied by a subtle smack, hover in anticipation of a deep kiss, shrouding the car in a charged atmosphere that crackles with urgency.
The dimly lit space becomes a battleground of emotions, where Peony grapples with the conflicting forces of desire and fear, and Garret asserts his dominance with a nonchalant arrogance.
Before he could actually kiss her, Peony's phone disrupts the moment with a piercing ring, introducing an unexpected intrusion into the unfolding drama.
It was a perfect opportunity to escape. Peony, relieved by the interruption, opens her eyes and fumbles to locate her phone amidst the dimly lit space. The tension that previously gripped the car dissipates with the loud ringing of the call, offering a reprieve from the charged atmosphere.
Peony, her movements fueled by a mix of relief and urgency, frantically picks up the call in a flash, her fingers answering the phone without the luxury of checking the caller ID.
Before hearing from the other end, she starts saying in a sweet voice, "Hello, Mom, I'm on my way to the airport."
Without allowing the other person to speak, she continues, "Yes, Mom, I have packed everything. Don't worry about me at all." Her words cut through the lingering tension in the car, a reassurance echoing against the leather seats.
"Yes, yes, thank you, Mom. Don't worry too much. Love you, Mom," she signals to Garret to move, the urgency in her gestures contrasting with the halted atmosphere.
Garret, perplexed by the sudden call, steps out of the car into the morning air. The cool breeze carries a mix of uncertainty and the residue of almost-shared moments. Peony's flustered look charges him with an unexpected energy. He was craving for more.
As the car door closes behind him, the vehicle becomes a solitary vessel on the roadside, and the unresolved tension within its walls lingers like an unfinished chapter.
Soon he notices an elderly lady attempting to cross the road. His demeanour shifts, and with genuine concern etched on his face, he extends a helping hand, guiding her across the street with courtesy.
The call was from an unknown number on her personal SIM – a number only her close ones know. Without overthinking, she swiftly cuts the call as soon as Garret steps out of the car.
Peony, sitting in the car, watches him, feeling a mix of confusion. She thought she knew Garret, but now he seems both caring and hurtful.
Peony, observing from the car, becomes lost in deep thoughts. "This is the man I loved," she reflects. "This is the Garret I know, soft-hearted and helping the needy. He may be paranoid with relations, but his heart is exceptional. I still can't believe this man cheated on me. I can't believe he wanted a mistress after our wedding."
While she was pondering over the incidents, she received another call, from the same unknown number. Bracing herself, she answered, only to be greeted by a voice she knew too well. "When did I have a daughter as big as you?"
"Oh, Shit! I'm so sorry," Peony groans as recognition dawns upon her.
"What? Now you're cursing me! Goodness has left the world," the man teased, his tone carrying a sense of playful banter.
Peony, however, swiftly regained her composure, despite a sudden ache in her head. "Well, I have decided what to do. Tell me why did you call me?" she inquired, her words laced with a hint of annoyance.
"Wow, Miss Drama Queen, here I'm wasting my time calling you, and there you're suddenly calling me mom and hanging up on me?" Benedict prodded, his teasing persisting.
Peony, fatigued and lacking sleep, retorted, "You decide your timing, don't you, Mr. CEO? Well, don't call me if it isn't urgent. I'm a married woman now. Garret will be upset.", assuming the role of a dutiful wife out of fear and defeat.
To her everything is going to come to an end once they reach France. Despite Benedict's earnest efforts to assist her, she finds herself facing a profound and disheartening failure, a personal letdown that echoes within. In simpler terms, she just wants him to forget about her because running away doesn't seem to matter anymore. A pervasive sense of misery envelops her, the weight of a union that feels more like a facade than a genuine marriage
Benedict's response, edged with anger, escaped his lips, "Well, well, suit yourself!".
Undeterred, Peony pressed on, "Hey, tell me clearly why you called..." before Benedict abruptly cut the call.
"Did you just hang up on me?" Peony fumed, her frustration palpable.
"I will block his number; he will never find me if he tries to call me again," Peony resolved, succumbing to a surge of anger. With determination, she swiftly blocked the number, the increasing headache and fatigue adding to the turmoil of the moment.
Resting her head against the plush leather of the backseat, Peony sighed. The wait for Garret seemed to stretch longer than expected.
From the depths of the car, the faint ticking sound continues:
12:37
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12:36
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~~~~~
Meanwhile, on the other side of the road, Garret, seeking a respite, took a pause for a smoke to quell the rising tension. The tranquillity of the moment was shattered when a car screeched to an abrupt stop in front of him, injecting an unexpected disturbance into the scene.
"This cursed car!" A familiar figure emerged from the vehicle, radiating pure disdain. The sleek red car had fallen victim to a flat tire in the middle of nowhere.
Garret, incredulous, couldn't believe what he was witnessing. He confronted her with a seething, "You, Bitch."
Unfazed, Shyla rolled her eyes. "What's your problem? Scumbag."
"You dare follow me here!" Garret persisted.
"Oh, please, I don't want to meet you either," Shyla retorted.
Despite her attempts to call a mechanic, Shyla found no luck.
Meanwhile, Garret observed her closely while puffing on his cigarette. The allure of her exotic perfume and posh style captivated him, but he maintained control. His wife awaited him, and the driver could return at any moment.
Exhaling a plume of smoke, Garret declared, "Well, good luck with your car. I'm leaving."
With no hope in sight, Shyla turned to Garret. Clutching his hand, she adopted a more alluring tone, "Well, you know how to change a tire. Can you help me out this time, please?" She played the role of a seductive damsel in distress.
Garret resisted, "Why not call Benedict to change your tyre? Weren't you by his side during the wedding?"
Internally, Shyla smirked, thinking, "This idiot still thinks Benedict is the problem. Well, this makes my work easier. Bad luck, Peony, your dear ones unfortunately fall for my charms."
"Why are you saying that, Garret? Benedict just paid me enough. We've all been friends since high school, even Peony knows him too well," she exaggerated, her words laced with a touch of condescension.
Garret, taken aback, remarked, "Peony knows Benedict from high school? She never told me about him."
With a casual smile, Shyla replied, "How would you know? Since you're busy, you can leave now."
"Garret's possessiveness flared up, thoughts racing, "No, I have to know. What is their relationship? I must find out somehow."
"No, I'm not busy now. Tell me where you need help," he continued, his curiosity battling with Shyla's subtle provocations.
Having deftly changed her car's tyre, Garret extended his hand toward her.
"What's this for? Why the hand?" Shyla questioned, a touch of surprise colouring her tone.
With a dry smirk, Garret responded, "I'm asking for my payment. Just like you asked whenever you wanted." His eyes lingered on her striking red dress, a subtle acknowledgment of the games being played.
In Shyla's mind, she mused, "This idiot has brains, but it won't do me any good. I don't have enough to gossip about them. If Benedict finds out, he will not spare me if I tell anything incoherent. This idiot might expose me. I need to play it safe."
A shrewd calculation reflected in her thoughts, realising the delicate balance she needed to maintain in the intricate web of relationships.
She skillfully enticed him, "Step into my car, and I'll unravel the entire story."
"You better tell me every detail," Garret cautioned, already captivated by the allure of her pheromones.
"Absolutely!," she affirmed, elegantly opening the car door and ushering him inside. In a soft whisper, she commenced, "Peony, Benedict, and I shared the same class."
The revelation lingered in the air, the car door closing behind them.
~~~~~
Time left before the explosion :
7:36
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7:35
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