God must be fucking with him.
Marcel thought so the moment Clara came into his office. Of course, he had forgotten he landed himself into a death trap by agreeing to give their relationship a try. Now, Marcel wished he could go back in time and erase that very decision.
He must have been sick in the head when he made her that promise. Nonetheless, it was inevitable; his relationship with Clara was bound to happen. So he might as well go easy on himself by getting to know her better. You know, give her the benefit of the doubt. Surely Clara must be something worth more than this and they can come to a compromise. In the end, their married life would be.... endurable.
"Babe!" She said and Marcel was momentarily confused. Who was she.... oh him. God, he wanted to cringe.
Clara walked over to him, intentionally swinging her waist in that body tight gown that would have made his little man rise - if it had been someone else.
