Wednesday's Three Word Wednesday

The words over at Three Word Wednesday are hesitate, jealous and neglect.

Sucker-Punch Advancement
Through the tears, the wobbly haze – like a wavering horizon in the heat – she reappeared.
Long tan overcoat, hose, heels. And outfit not meant for him.
Bystanders put hands under armpits, tried to put him back on his feet, but he waved them off, too weakly he thought, too hesitant, and used a hand as a signal that he needed time to collect himself.
He drew a fist across his face, came away with a smear of blood; seeing it, he now could taste its coppery tang in his mouth.
She’d dressed that way, he now knew, to spark a jealous outrage. He knew that underneath the London Fog, she was bare, save for the black stockings. She cried softly. Bystanders restrained the man, who yelled veiled threats, hurtful innuendo.
The conversation, the sucker punch, it all begin to filter back in.
She’d lived with the neglect, the philandering. But no more. She was ready, willing to fight. She’d told him so, over champagne. In their living room.
Where he’d been grabbed by the arm, steered into a corner, asked advice from a worried husband. Uncomfortable, he sought escape, or at very least, something stronger to drink.
He was a pawn in a lover’s spat for which he knew the basic parameters. He had tried to steer clear of them both in the office lobby.
She’d touched his arm as they reached the elevator.
He caught him with a roundhouse right.
Lights out.
It was all coming back, through the tears, the wobbly haze. The pain. The resolve. A plan.
The cop asked twice before getting a response.
“Misunderstanding,” he said. “My fault, really.”
Being decked by one’s boss could have its advantages, if you knew how to play the game.