ChasingTheArrogantInstructor

It was already late at night when Vanessa glanced at her watch. She got home at seven or better yet, she arrived at seven. She rubbed her cold arms. Of all things to forget, why did it have to be her jacket? She exhaled in frustration plus the fact that she was freezing.

She looked around the house. It was even darker inside than it was outside. Only Gian’s room light was on, so he was already home. Maybe he was too lazy to turn on the other lights, or maybe he was saving electricity. Wow, saving! Big word!

Slowly, she opened the door, careful not to make any noise. She moved as quietly as she could.

Her husband might already be asleep for now, or maybe working on some papers. She didn’t want to disturb him again; he might turn into a dragon like before. She didn’t even know what he would do if that happened. He might even throw her things out. His temper was worse than a dragon’s.

Because Gian was a different kind of dragon, a dragon in his menopausal stage. Always hot-headed. Blood boiling.

She felt like a thief sneaking in. Well, if she really was a thief, she would be the prettiest thief ever. She rolled her pure black eyes.

Why is she doing this? Her gay husband was surely in his room already. She wouldn’t even reach him if she made some noise.

She had just closed the door when she heard the sound of a glass falling on the table in the living room. All her confidence suddenly ran away. Her husband was in the living room! Even her beauty seemed to run away from her.

“Is this the right time for a decent student to come home, Vanessa?” It was Gian’s voice. A voice full of anger, just from the tone alone. A voice without any trace of softness. The very same voice she had once liked.

Her heartbeat raced, not from excitement like before, but from the angry aura surrounding him. Even in the dark, she could feel his rage. Gian stood and turned on the light.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” he asked her.

It felt like the lights themselves were ordering her to answer their master. She slowly bowed her head.

“Sorry… we finished late today at six-thirty,” she said softly, biting her lower lip.

“I’m tired of your lies, Vanessa. Until when will you keep lying?” His words made her panic. Gian was shouting again.

She turned to him, confused. “But I—”

“I have your schedule. Every Friday you’re dismissed at five-thirty. You’re not only stubborn, you’re also a liar!”

~

Vanessa was crying as she wiped her endless tears. She had her reasons for being late. She and Mae had to edit their research proposal until six-thirty because, unfortunately, their first draft was rejected.

Wasn’t that enough reason? But no, Gian never gave her the chance to explain. He already jumped to conclusions.

At the terminal, she even waited twenty minutes for the jeep to be full. It was rush hour, but strangely, there weren’t many passengers. Maybe she really was unlucky. She was starting to believe it. After all, that’s what everyone kept telling her. Maybe she was just fooling herself by not believing them.

And the ride home took another ten minutes. That’s why she got home at seven.

Okay, fine. She admitted she lied about her six-thirty dismissal but she had valid reasons, right? She really did leave the university at six-thirty.

She groaned in frustration.

“Damn it! Why won’t you stop?” she shouted at her tears, as if they would answer her.

She was so tired. She was really exhausted and hurt. Who wouldn’t be hurt by what Gian said? She wasn’t a liar. Just because she was late, he accused her like that!

“You’re so annoying, Janine, wait, I mean Gian!” she screamed.

But she quickly covered her mouth, maybe her voice was too loud.

“Damn it!”

Did Gian hear that? She wondered. She stood up and opened her bedroom door to check. Maybe he was in the kitchen or in the living room.

As soon as she opened the door, she froze. Gian was standing right there. She felt like a snake had bitten her. What was he doing in front of her door?

“I know you’re mad at me, Vanessa, but I’m mad at you too. That makes me the winner,” he said before turning his back.

~

Vanessa ran her fingers over her swollen eyes. Facing the mirror, she sometimes smiled, sometimes cried. If the mirror could talk, it would call her stupid.

She didn’t know what time she finally cried herself to sleep last night. Gian’s words had cut deep her heart. They sank into her mind and into her very system. If only she had the courage, she would’ve answered him back.

Why was she even proud to call him her husband? Gian despised her. He almost killed her with his anger. Maybe that’s how it was, sometimes you value people too much, but they don’t value you at all. In short, you get taken for granted. It happens a lot, so it shouldn’t even surprise her.

She had been staring at the mirror for three minutes now. Once again, she had wasted her time.

She stepped out of her room and went to the kitchen to cook breakfast. But when she got there, food was already set on the table and Gian, the same man she cried over all night, was already eating. Great. He was enjoying his meal while she spent the night in tears.

Nanang Delia, as Gian called her, was also there eating with him. Neither of them even thought to invite her. Wow. What a party!

Without looking at them, she went straight to the fridge to get cold water. She’d just drink instead.

“Sir Gian, so you already have someone with you? Is she your girlfriend?” Nanang Delia asked. Vanessa almost choked on her water.

Seriously? Do we look like lovers?

Gian cleared his throat. “She’s my maid, Nanang.”

Vanessa wanted to correct him and say she was his wife. But no, that hurt even more. To him, she wasn’t even worth calling a student. Just a maid. Damn it.

“Hija, come eat. I’m sure you haven’t eaten yet,” Nanang invited.

Vanessa shook her head and glanced at Gian.

“No, I’m full—”

“Sit and eat!” Gian snapped, dropping his utensils on the plate. “Nanang, please clear my plate. I lost my appetite.” He stood and walked out of the dining room.

“Sir, you barely ate—”

“I said I lost my appetite,” he said without looking back.

Vanessa cleared her throat. “Me too, Nanang. I’m not hungry—”

She didn’t finish, because Nanang held her wrist. “What’s your name, hija?”

She forced to give a smile. “Vanessa. Vanessa Alvarez.”

“Alvarez? Are you related to that actress with the same last name?” Nanang asked, curious. The question stung. She was talking about her late mother.

“She’s my mom.”

“Oh! So, you’re rich? Then it’s hard to believe you’re just a maid for that gay man.”

“My husband is not gay—”

“Husband?”