“‘Baby, I miss you, I want to see you…’” he mocked in a revolting voice. “And that’s why you wanted to meet? So I could look at your pathetic face?
It disgusts me even to sit next to you!”
At that moment something clicked inside me. Instead of tears, anger came. I didn’t want to be his victim anymore.
And unexpectedly even to myself, I did something I do not regret at all. A waiter walked by with a tray on which a steaming bowl of red, spicy tom yum was placed. I snatched it from the tray and, before he could react, poured the entire contents over his head.
There were shrieks and shouts — he jumped up, clutching his face, and the smell of spices and heat spread through the hall. People froze, then someone snickered. I straightened up, gathered my pride, and, looking down at him, said coldly:
“The gentleman will pay for everything.”
Then I lifted my chin and walked out of the restaurant slowly and confidently, leaving him in his wet suit under the laughter and astonished looks of the guests.
