"I'm curious," she said. "Who exactly are you?" Her head tilted away from the TV, pretending to look uninterested but the glint in her eyes were unmistakenably keen to know.
"I'm just your typical successful businessman," I answered truthfully, omitting my background as it had nothing to do with my achievement.
"Ha!" She exclaimed with a smirk on her face and the rolling of her eyes.
"It's true."
"Yes. I too, believe pigs can fly."
Somehow her doubt affected me in a way I never knew. I felt challenged and wanted to prove that I was indeed a businessman. "Is it hard to believe that I am one?"
"Oh, I believe you alright. But also, I believe you reek of old money more."
I had no idea that it would rattled me more than I thought it would. If she who had lost her memory of me, could see I came from money, what about others?
"What gives it away?"
"What else do you think? Everything! Your clothes, your cars, the way you talk, how you spent your money."
"My clothes and cars are my money."
"I'm not saying it's not but if you weren't from old money, do you think your business would be as successful as an average person in a short amount of time?"
I opened my mouth, wanting to argue but closed it back when I have no argument to counter.
"So? Who are you?"
"Why? Would you fall in love with me if you know my background?" I teased.
"On the contrary. You old money people have a tendency to think you're above all and can get away with anything."
The teasing smile on my face dropped instantly, knowing she was subtly rejecting me. I was not sure whether she noticed the changes in my mood because she either tried to provoke me or she was simply speaking her mind.
"Like the other day, the security officers of mum's residence were fine with ignoring the pleas of a damsel in distress just because of your status. If I am an actual victim kidnapped by some rich murderer, I'll be dead, you know? A nobody like me did not matter if we disappear from the face of the earth than a somebody like you ended up in jail."
"That's because —"
"Also! If a nobody like me and that poor butler were to wield a weapon with the intent to hurt, the society would have punished us harshly. But look at you, the somebody who is capable to scot free."
I took a deep breath. And then another for nine more times. Not because of her sarcastic jab full of stereotypical truth but because I refused to answer in a huffy manner that may appear I was defensive.
"Did I touch a nerve?" Smug was all over her face when she asked me.
"No. The security officers know you. As for—"
"Uh-huh. Because I always followed you around."
"No. I'm the one who has always been following you. And that butler," my voice unintentionally starting to raise, in case she would talk over me.
"He's an ex-convict."
The shocked on her face changed quite quickly that I would have had missed it if I was not looking at her.
"Yeah? And how did you know?"
"I reeked of old money."
Her jaw dropping expression was priceless that I had to stifle my laughter. Her beautiful brown eyes shone with incredulity, churning up the feeling within me of needing to pick her up and twirl her around as a sign of forgiveness for being cheeky.
But I withheld myself, especially when I am just a stranger to her and not her man.
"Seriously, how did you know?" She asked once again, discarding rather quickly of my shameless remark.
"I ran background check."
"On me?"
"No! Why would I do that to my wife?"
"Oh, one can never know what truly lies in a human's heart," she said. Her words were laced with sadness and her eyes were turning glossier.
I gently wiped the falling tears from her eyes. Admittedly, I was not courageous enough to comfort her with words as I too, have things hidden deep in my chest.
"I'm fine," she said, accompanied with an awkward laugh. Her voice was shaky but she insisted to say, "Really, I am fine. I'm just being silly."
As she wiped her eyes dry aggressively, I could not help myself but pushed the stray hairs out of her face and tucked them behind her ears.
"It's also alright to say you're not if you're not," I coaxed. This was not the first time she invalidate her own feelings.
"Yes, that's true but I'm totally fine." She took a deep breath and redirected the conversation. "Anyway, why are you running background check on my mum?"
"I didn't. I only run background check on the people working for her."
"Why?"
"Because you tend to end up there and I need to know what kind of people they are," I said bluntly, not afraid to show my strong dislike for her mother.
The very first time she went there on her own, it was when she was fully recovered from her coma and she came back to our house with a smile on her face. At first, I believed fully her big smile, thinking everything was alright. I was even glad that my intuition proved to be wrong - that her mother is a piece of shit.
When she went again the next day, I simply assumed a day was not enough time to spend with her mum. Even when she went for a whole week, I thought it was normal. I was ashamed to say I have missed out on so much clues. I should have noticed she was not chatting excitedly as she would when she was happy or how she would return an hour earlier every single day.
Even when I noticed her shaken body, I dismissed it since she had plastered the trademarked big smile on her face. I simply assumed she was tired and wished her goodnight.
The day after that, my mind had already placed her big smile as a faded background due to it being blended into everyday normalcy. When she came home limping, I stupidly believed when she said she fell down. Age old lies told by many and I always scorn those people for buying it. But I too, was fooled by her acting.
It was when she came home with the puffy red eyes - evident of hours spent on crying, did I only take action. I asked relentlessly but her answer remained the same, that she was fine. Excuses after excuses that kept on changing. How she was allergic to something and yet, when I asked what did the doctor say, it changed to how her eyes were so itchy that she rubbed her eyes pretty hard.
Nothing I do could get her to answer me and I realised it was wrong of me to ask her directly. I was being such a prick, contributing to the pain she had already endured. Come bedtime, I noticed all these blue-black patches on her body and I saw red.