Chapter 18

Henry waited until his wife was out of earshot. But as soon as she disappeared around the corner, his facial expression hardened.
"Listen, Richard. I would appreciate it if you'd stop interrupting the conversations I have with my wife. And keep your hands off of Catherine. Otherwise I'm going to teach you a lesson."

Instead of backing off, Richard had the audacity to feign surprise by raising his hands in a soothing manner.
"Wow. What the hell is wrong with you, Henry? Apparently the wine you've had seems to disagree with you. And I'm not hitting on Catherine."
"I have eyes and I know what I've seen, pal," Henry replied, searching in vain for a way to release his pent-up emotions.

"Eyes you tend to aim at other women, I might add. It strikes me a little bit hypocritical to play the loving and jealous husband all of a sudden." Richard's tone was sharp and unforgiving and his words fuelled Henry's jealousy.
"What are you saying?" Henry asked him angrily.
"For the last few years you've treated her like shit, you've disregarded her, fornicated with half of Seattle's female population and now you accuse me of... of what exactly? Did you ever wonder how Catherine might feel?"

Upon hearing this portentousness, Henry felt a strong sense of rage burning deep within his very beeing that tried to trick him into knocking that smug and stupid grin out of the other man's face.
"Our marital problems are none of your business, Richard," he pressed out between his teeth angrily.
"There you go. Your marriage consists of nothing but problems! But do you know what Catherine's biggest problem is? She loves you, you asshole. That's why she can't leave you and is rushing towards doom with her eyes wide open. And yes, I shouldn't interfere, but I happen to care about your wife and I can't stand idly by while she's desperately clinging to something that only exists on paper."

Then a realization struck Henry like a physical blow.
"You love her. You're in love with Catherine." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

Richard stared at him, unable to formulate an answer. But he didn't have to, the caught look in his eyes gave him away. For Henry it was as if with his mute and yet so meaningful reaction, his former friend was waving with a red rag right in front of his face, hot-wiring his rational thinking.
And suddenly a single yet powerful and dominant emotion took possession of his body.
Furiousness. Raging, jealousy-driven furiousness.
Directed at this insolent man who dared to sit in front of him, drinking his wine and eating his hors d'oeuvres, who received monthly paychecks as an employee and - to top it all – who dared to love Henry's wife.

His anger raged through his bloodstream, quickly spreading through his body, gradually reaching his extremities until it discharged it's elemental force in a butal punch that hit Richard's face completely unprepared.

"Henry! Oh my God, Richard, are you all right?"
Catherine's enraged voice interfused the red fog of his furiousness and brought him out of his alarming state.

Once Henry was able to focus and see more clearly again, he realized that they were already surrounded by a small group of people that stared at him and his opponent in disbelief.
His wife sat next to Richard and was carefully touching up his chin.
When her gaze met his, he feared that he was going to freeze to death from the coldness in her eyes.

A waiter with a cooling pad and a towel in his hands hurried in their direction, shortly followed by Francis.
"What has gotten into you, Dad?" his son screamed and fitfully pulled him aside.
"Richard brought that on himself, son," Henry irreconcilably growled and refused to bear the blame for his outburst all by himself.
"What on earth did he do that justifies a punch in the face?" Francis didn't even bother trying to hide his anger for he loathed violence.
"Maybe you should go and ask him."

Since that response wasn't very helpful, his son rolled his eyes at him in annoyance. By doing that Francis reminded him so much of his mother that he had to contain a laughter which would have unnecessarily worsened his situation.
"But I'm asking you, Dad!"
"Alright. Your fine uncle and godfather just confessed that he's in love with your mother".

This revelation left his son speachless for the fraction of a second.
"Okay, that is kind of... strange, but that's still no reason to become violent." All of a sudden Francis' facial expression changed. "Or are they actually..."
His son stopped mid-sentence, unable to verbalize this disturbing thought out loud.

A thought that Henry hadn't come up with at that point.
"Good lord, I hope they aren't," Henry croaked and the insecurity in his own voice frightened him.

Involuntarily, his gaze wandered back to Catherine. She was still sitting next to Richard, wearing a worried expression on her face and tended to his bleeding and slightly swollen lower lip. In Henry's opinion she was giving his opponent more care than necessary. Watching her taking care of Richard brought the supposedly evaporated rage in him once again to a critical boiling point.

Just when he was about to intervene, Richard rose with Catherine's help and the two of them left the galery.
On her way down, Catherine cast him an outraged, almost deadly look.
"Dad," Francis whispered, warning his father and Henry realized that his hand was clenched into a fist once again.

He helplessly watched his wife, who was leaving the hall on the arm of another man.

The outcome of this evening was different from anything he had ever imagined.
Was it possible that his anger and his jealousy had driven Catherine right into the arms of his former best friend?

Feeling helpless and profoundly frustrated, Henry ran his hands over his shaved head.
"What are you all staring at?" he snarled at the people standing around, staring at him and waved at a waiter to come over.
"Bring me a gin tonic. Lots of gin, less tonic."

My dear readers, I'm sorry that I didn't post an update last week. But after translating non-stop for weeks, I desperately needed to do some writing.
 But here we go again, a new chapter, although not the longest one, but I still hope you like it. Last but not least: Many thanks for kind reviews.