Bittersweet Argument

I must be thankful for my reflexes and I am. I really I am.

I held Philippa's hand in mid-air as she was getting ready to slap me in the face. I am one of those blokes that is awfully respectful of one's face, it's sacred which means completely off-limits. I gave her a leveling stare, my displeasure quite evident which was all it took for her to recover her wits.

"What is this about a rendez-vous you had in Vienna?" She was rather acid but calmer than what she would've been had she struck me.

"A small birthday get-together in case we're putting labels on things."

"Oh don't be smart with me Christian, I am in no mood!"

"Well, I suggest you relax yourself for I am not about to deal with a hysteric."

"Why wasn't I invited?"

"I wasn't in charge of the guest list," which is the truth mind you.

She took that into consideration it seemed as she continued with her tirade.

"Then why didn't your little friend" insert sufficient venom here "invite me?! She knows I exist, I assume"

"Yes, she knows and why she chose not to tell you is beyond me at this point. And lower your voice, I have a horrid headache."

She threw her purse in my bed, along with her coat then crossed her arms and stared at me. I remained quite comfortable in my chair, rubbing my temple absentmindedly.

"Christian... we've been together for over two--"

"I'm well aware of our time together"

"--good. My point is, why on earth didn't you bother to call me and inform me that this was taking place? And since when is this woman so important in your life--"

"Please Philippa. You're overreacting. She's just a friend."

She looked dumbfounded. "Overreacting? Christian Dominic, this woman threw you a party, didn't invite ME yet invited your close friends that she barely even knows. It's on purpose!"

I remained silent, looking at her.

"And God knows how many times I called you! And you didn't even answer your bloody mobile! You know how embarrassing it is for me to call your parents--"

"You called my parents?" I was surprised, a bit vexed by the notion also.

"T-To see if they knew where to locate you! But I was transferred to their secretary which then transferred me to yours! It's ridiculous the amount of secretaries you people have!"

...

"Why were you avoiding me Christian?" She managed to ask after a while. "I'm inclined to believe this girl is not only a FRIEND you know."

"I was in a business trip Philippa."

"That is not an answer to my question. I don't want you to see her again."

I quirked my eyebrow. "You're jesting, yes?"

"No! I do not want you talking to this senseless cow--"

"She is hardly a cow."

She gasped in outrage.

"So she's attractive too?!"

I did not see that coming and I should've. I was careless.

"I'm not going to stop seeing her Philippa. She is my friend. She just got out of a serious relationship and she's not interested in me in that way. You're just paranoid."

For some reason, after I said that, I felt I was lying not only to her but to myself.

"If you have any respect for this relationship, you will not attempt to see her again. For if you do--"

I laughed in spite of myself. "You are forbidding me to see my friend?"

"It will be a deliberate insult against my dignity and integrity. Not to say what it will do to your own sense of morality and ethics."

I was tempted to answer that I could care less for her dignity and her integrity but I found my silence to be more prudent. I could see she was holding in some tears, the mere act of standing before me and confronting me was taking a toll on her pride. Without anything else to say, she gathered her things and left. I sighed. I do not remember engaging in a longer, more painstaking conversation in all of my life with Philippa. I was rather weary of the direction it took. Yet my mind was elsewhere, with someone else. The core reason of why I was arguing lingered in my mind like an after-taste.

Bittersweet.

Hungover

Good grief, I never realized how loud Eleanor is until she woke me up just now. After I've had a busy night with the Scotch courtesy of a good friend; a high-pitched squeal is anything but welcomed. I can't even remember why I was drinking as much in the first place. I'm trying to think and no... no good. It hurts to even ponder at this point. It's even harder when Eleanor is pulling my arm and telling me to get dressed already that Philippa is waiting for me in the foyer.

Philippa... here... did I tell her to come by?

I remember the phone ringing. I remember I ignored the phone. I remember debating whether or not I should go to sleep. I also remember, vaguely, various messages in my credenza left by my secretary, most of them labeled urgent and Philippa written in big block letters.

So you could say this moment has been forewarned in more ways than one, and I've disregarded each and everyone of them. I can pretty much imagine what this might be about but I'm feeling rather lethargic at the moment, and my interest in this and it's dealings is practically zero.

The door just flew open. Eleanor promptly left my side, after what I can imagine was a long staring match between her and Philippa (whom else would it be?). She is tapping my shoulder right now. I suppose this means it's time to turn around.