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I stand on a small step stool and pull down the case. It’s not particularly heavy. Whatever’s inside doesn’t weigh a ton.
When I’m leaving the room, the gold lock catches my eye, and I remember that I’m supposed to retrieve a key too. Under different circumstances, this might be fun, but I don’t trust him. Although I have to admit, I’m curious to see what’s inside.
I open the top drawer and find a key with a red ribbon looped through it, exactly where he said it would be.
“I have it,” I tell him when I get back to the bedroom.
“Took you long enough. Did you remember the key?”
“Yes,” I reply, holding it up as though he can see through the phone. “It’s right—”
I freeze when my eye catches the cherry-red ribbon.This is my hair ribbon. The one I was wearing the day he visited Quinta Rosa do Vale, after my father died. The one I could never find. Isn’t it?
That’s ridiculous, Daniela.
He’s saying something, but I’m too busy examining the ribbon for any sign that it’s mine to pay attention to him.I’m not certain about the ribbon.
You know it’s yours.
“Is—is this the ribbon I had in my hair when you visited after my father died?”
“It is. I’m in a benevolent mood today. I’m giving back some of the things I stole from you.”
I don’t say anything. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the idea that he took my ribbon like a schoolboy and kept it for six years.
“Don’t overthink it,Princesa. Open the case.”
My head is fuzzy as I pull the round case closer and insert the key. Even as I do, I can’t keep my eyes off the ribbon.
Because I have no idea what to expect when I open the case, I pull back the lid carefully.
What in the name of fresh hell?
The inside of the case is multitiered, like a jewelry box, but much larger. I rifle through the contents, finding a variety of sex toys in silk pouches, two sizes of batteries, condoms, an assortment of lube, and antibacterial soap.
You have got to be kidding me.
I don’t say anything. Neither does Antonio.
All I can do is stare at the box in horror, and at my ribbon, becoming more and more agitated as the seconds pass.
“See anything you think you might enjoy?”
Fuck you.
“Why did you leave this for me? What exactly do you think I’m going to do with these things?”
“Daniela, you’re young and inexperienced, but you haven’t been living in a cave in the Arctic. You know damn well what those toys are about. But if you have any questions about how to use or care for them, the instructions are at the bottom of the case.”
“I know what they are. But if you think for one minute—”
“You said that you haven’t explored your body in years. You accused me of stealing your opportunity to have those experiences. I’m giving it back,” he adds softly.
I swallow hard. I did say that he’d robbed me of the experiences. It is true—mostly. There’s little opportunity for self-love when sharing a room with a child.
“The items in the box are for you to enjoy. I chose them myself, but you can choose other things that suit you better, or that you might want to experiment with.”
I’m about to die of embarrassment.
