Searing and Unexpected Slaps

The room was suddenly filled with an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the sound of the fallen bouquet hitting the floor. Marisa suddenly became nervous, and the tension in the air was palpable.

Dave, his face a mix of disbelief and hurt, finally managed to find his voice. "Hey, Marisa, you never told me your boyfriend was around," he said, his tone a mixture of hurt and sorrow.

Marisa stammered, struggling to come up with an explanation. "He's not my boyfriend, Dave. And it's not what it looks like."

"He's not your boyfriend?" Dave asked in confusion.

"Yes, he's not," Marisa replied, silently hoping that Alejandro wouldn't say anything that would complicate the matter.

Alejandro was seething with anger, and when he attempted to speak, the delivery man arrived with the pizza Marisa had ordered.

Marisa's heart raced as she heard the doorbell chime, and she saw an opportunity to divert the escalating tension. Without hesitation, she hurried to the door to meet the delivery man.

With shaky hands, she paid for the pizza and offered a quick, appreciative smile. "Thank you," she said, her voice trembling slightly. The smell of the freshly baked pizza wafted through the room, momentarily easing the awkward atmosphere.

Dave and Alejandro exchanged an uncomfortable glance as Marisa brought the pizza.

As Marisa set the pizza on the table, she turned to Dave with a forced but warm smile. "Why don't you have a seat, Dave? We can all enjoy the pizza together," she suggested, attempting to ease the tension in the room.

Dave nodded and, with an apologetic look, picked up the fallen bouquet of roses from the floor. He extended it toward Marisa, saying, "I bought these for you on my way here. I thought they'd brighten up the place."

Marisa's eyes softened as she accepted the bouquet, her smile genuine this time. "Thank you, Dave. They're beautiful, and I love them," she replied, her gratitude evident.

Alejandro, however, glared angrily at Dave. His eyes burned with resentment, and he could barely contain his anger. The sight of Dave offering roses to Marisa felt like salt on an open wound. The mere thought of what could be brewing between Dave and Marisa sent his blood boiling, and he couldn't help but contemplate drastic measures.

Marisa, ever perceptive, sensed Alejandro's seething anger. She quickly excused herself, saying, "I just remembered I need to go check on my son in his room." With the bouquet of roses in her hand, she hurried out of the living room, leaving Alejandro and Dave to face each other.

Dave sat down, feeling a bit intimidated by Alejandro's intense gaze as he took a seat opposite him. Alejandro's expression was a blend of anger, jealousy, and a simmering menace that made Dave feel a bit tensed. The atmosphere in the room had grown increasingly uncomfortable for Dave, and he tried his best to avoid Alejandro's icy gaze, which was enough to unnerve anyone.

Alejandro couldn't contain his mounting curiosity and, in a stern tone, he asked, "Who are you, and what's your relationship with Marisa?"

Dave cleared his throat nervously before responding, "I'm Dave, a friend of Marisa's. We met today."

A puzzled look crossed Alejandro's face as he continued, "You met today?"

"Yep," Dave nodded, feeling puzzled about why Alejandro was suddenly asking so many questions.

Alejandro continued to inquire, maintaining a cold demeanor. "Can you tell me where and how you met her?"

Dave replied, slightly uneasy, "I met Marisa today, at the hospital."

Alejandro's eyes widened as the pieces of the puzzle came together, and he couldn't hide his growing anger. He remembered his informant's report about the man who had wrapped his arms around Marisa at the hospital, the same man he had instructed his informant to deal with.

Realizing that Dave was the one who had dared to touch Marisa in that manner fueled Alejandro's rage. He had ordered his informant to eliminate Dave, but that order had not been carried out. Now, he saw an opportunity to take matters into his own hands. Dave, the man who had dared to lay hands on what Alejandro considered his possession, was now in his presence, and he wasn't going to let this chance slip away.

Alejandro's anger was about to boil over as he contemplated drawing the concealed gun from beneath his suit, intending to confront Dave for touching what he considered to be his. But at that critical moment, the room's atmosphere underwent a sudden transformation.

Marisa entered the room, her young son Jeffrey by her side. Her arrival had a calming effect, diffusing the tension in the room. Alejandro reluctantly withdrew his hand from under his suit.

"Hey, Jeffrey," Dave greeted the young boy with a warm smile.

Jeffrey, curious, asked, "Good evening, sir. And how do you know my name?"

Dave explained, "I was with your mom while you were undergoing surgery."

"Really?" Jeffrey's eyes widened in surprise.

"Yeah," Dave nodded, then he extended an invitation, "Why don't you come sit beside me, Jeffrey?"

However, Jeffrey opted to sit beside Alejandro and offered him a friendly smile. Alejandro reciprocated with a warm but forced smile of his own.

Dave couldn't help but notice the striking familiarity between Alejandro and Jeffrey, prompting him to wonder whether Alejandro might be Jeffrey's father.

Marisa intervened, placing two large boxes of pizza on the table and sharing slices between the four of them. She sat beside Dave, initiating the meal. Alejandro, still harboring a smile, fed Jeffrey a slice of pizza, asking, "Is it sweet?"

Jeffrey's face lit up, and he replied happily, "It's sweet, and I love it!"

They continued to enjoy their meal, and Alejandro playfully fed slices of pizza to Jeffrey. With a warm smile, Alejandro extended a slice of pizza toward Marisa and said, "Sweetheart, you should really try this flavor. It's incredibly sweet."

Marisa's glare pierced through the room when Alejandro addressed her as "sweetheart." She refused with a forced smile, shaking her head.

Undeterred, Alejandro rose from his seat and walked over to sit beside Marisa. Ignoring her reluctance, he gently fed her a slice of pizza, looking deep into her eyes as he asked, "How does it taste?"

Marisa, feeling a mixture of frustration and embarrassment, replied, "It's sweet."

Alejandro's fingers brushed against a smudge on her lips, and he instinctively licked it off, a gesture filled with a sense of intimacy that didn't go unnoticed. Dave, though he masked his feelings, couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy and anger as he continued to eat his pizza.

With a smirk on his face, Alejandro returned to his seat beside Jeffrey, seemingly satisfied with the effect his actions had created. Marisa glanced at Dave and could tell that he was hurt by what had just transpired.

Sensing the tension in the air, Marisa decided to excuse herself. "Excuse me, everyone. There's something I need to check on in the kitchen. I'll be right back." She said, then she walked to the kitchen.

Marisa got to the kitchen, her hands resting heavily on the counter as she began to ponder the implications of Alejandro's actions. She couldn't help but wonder what Dave might be thinking after Alejandro addressed her as "sweetheart" and fed her pizza. There was an uneasy knot in her stomach, worried that Dave might misconstrue the situation.

As she wrestled with these thoughts, Marisa was startled by a pair of arms wrapping around her from behind. She immediately turned to find Alejandro standing there, a sight that filled her with anger.

Alejandro, seemingly unfazed by her reaction, asked, "What are you doing all by yourself in the kitchen, sweetheart?"

Marisa, her frustration bubbling to the surface, retorted, "Why did you come to my house? And why are you doing all of this?"

"I came to see you because you belong to me and no one else," Alejandro replied with a smirk which infuriated Marisa a lot.

"You have no claim on me, so get lost!" Marisa's furious voice reverberated through the kitchen as she forcefully pushed Alejandro away.

Storming into the living room, she found only Jeffrey present, Dave conspicuously absent. She interrogated Jeffrey, "Where's the guy who was here with you?"

"He just left," Jeffrey responded with a pizza-filled mouth, pointing toward the exit, unintentionally adding a humorous touch to the scene. But Marisa was far from amused.

She dashed out of the house, hoping to intercept Dave. Her prayers were answered as she spotted him opening the door of a white Jeep, ready to depart.

"Dave, wait!" She cried out, successfully grabbing his attention. She then ran towards him as fast as her legs could carry her.

Breathless from the sprint, she inquired, "Dave, why are you leaving?"

Dave's anger flared as he retorted, "Marisa, when I called earlier to arrange a visit, you should've mentioned your boyfriend's presence. I wouldn't have bothered coming here to witness your romantic antics."

Marisa calmly countered, "Dave, that man isn't my boyfriend."

Dave responded skeptically, "Stop lying, Marisa. He's clearly your boyfriend."

"And what makes you think he's my boyfriend?" Marisa questioned, arching an inquisitive brow at him.

Dave asserted, "That man called you 'sweetheart' in my presence, and he also fed you with pizza. Isn't that enough reason to make me believe that he's your boyfriend, huh?"

"Dave, listen. He's not my boyfriend." Marisa explained, calmly.

"Enough with the lies, Marisa because I asked my son who that man is, and your son confirmed that man is your boyfriend." Dave said.

Marisa's disbelief was palpable as she countered, "And you're going to believe a five-year-old's words?"

Dave retorted, "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't believe your son. Give me one damn good reason why I shouldn't believe that the man inside your apartment isn't your boyfriend."

Frustrated beyond words, Marisa exploded, "You know what, Dave? Just get lost! Get out of here!" She turned away and walked back toward her apartment.

Entering with a furious expression, she headed for Alejandro, seated beside Jeffrey, chatting and smiling. Upon reaching him, she delivered two searing slaps to his face, shocking the hell out of him.