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“Belong?”I can’t help but be surprised by his choice of words.
“Isn’t that what marriage is?Owning someone?” My face takes on an amused expression, without me being able to control it.
“I’ve never seen it that way, I think marriage is freedom and not prison. Belonging sounds so... possessive...?”
“And isn’t it about this?”
“I’d say it’s about being someone’s, not about possessing...”
“And what’s the difference?” I smile.
“The choice,” he tilts his head to the side, reflecting on my words.
“I can’t decide whether or not this is a romantic vision...” he says, also with an air of fun, and I laugh, it’s a weird moment.
“It’s not. It’s a simple way of seeing it.Life is made of choices and consequences, Marcos, and marriage is just one more.” His head gives a slight jolt back and his way of looking at me changes.It’s as if he’s seeing me for the first time.And it’s also the first, since his eyes recognized my existence, that I like the way I seem to be seen.
“How old are you, Antonella?” He surprises me with the question.
“You don’t know?” I feel worried. Oh no, fuck! He wasn’t stupid enough to make me a proposal like that without knowing my age, was he?
“I know you’re of legal age, which, until now, was all I cared about. I mean, you’re of legal age, aren’t you?” Now he seems genuinely worried, and again I find myself torn as to what I want to do with this man.
What form of aggression would be most effective in causing him pain?Because I could definitely punch him for his stupidity and throw him to the ground for his bullshit, but I don’t do either of those things.Choosing very carefully the tone of voice, I answer as if my next words mean nothing, when I know they can change everything.
“Yes, Marcos.I’m already of age!I’m twenty-one, soon, twenty-two.”
“Holy shit!” he shouts “Holy shit!” Not even giving me time to measure his reaction, since it’s immediate.The gaze I liked? Is gone. Now the expression on his face tells me that he is fully capable of, right here and right now, giving up everything he has proposed to me.
But he won’t do it, no fucking way! Not after the poisonous moss of hope of a rapid and substantial change of life for me and Bella had infested my heart like a climbing plant.
If the search I did months ago on Google is right, Marcos is thirty-two years old.That’s ten years apart, no wonder he’s surprised, I’m just surprised he’s been dumb enough to just worry about it now.
“Where are your parents, girl?” Really, Asshole Marcos? Is that the question? Oh God!
“Far away, Marcos. They wouldn’t even care if I was dead...”
“Antonella...”
“Can we continue this conversation sitting down? Because my legs are starting to hurt...” I ask, buying time to think of a way to put him exactly where I want.Sweet and submissive my ass!This man clearly does not know how to rule his own life, what would he do with a sweet and submissive woman?I want to shake my head in denial, but I hold back.
He opens and closes his mouth without saying anything.He puts his hands on his waist, moves his neck from side to side, without fixing his eyes at any point for a few moments, and finally gestures for me to lead the way.I obey, passing by him and walking through that space I already know so well.
The large, modern kitchen, completely occupied by dark blue custom-made furniture and brushed steel appliances, has the counter covered by several tasty foods, and I widen my eyes.Paula Deen’s breakfast table would lose to this one, without a doubt.
I stop walking, too busy trying to understand the reason for all this.I know Marcos’ routine well enough to know that he never drinks more than a black coffee in the morning and sometimes eats some toast.Carmen, who has worked in this house for years and came from his parents’ house, complains about how neglectful he is with what is the most important meal of the day.
“I didn’t know what you liked, so I asked Carmen to prepare a little of everything...” Again, his voice is the one that tells me how close he came while I wandered in my thoughts.And now, what he says surprises me even more than its proximity.That was... thoughtful... and... unexpected...
“Thank you…” I say, not quite sure what to say about the surprisingly thoughtful gesture.But I don’t give myself more than two seconds to think about it. That’s not the focus.
“No problem, it’s just food...” I leave my purse on one of the stools on the counter, pull out a second one and sit on it.Without waiting for Marcos, I begin to serve myself the banquet at my disposal.
It would be a real sin to waste so much care on Carmen’s part, of course.And, realizing the empty kitchen, I ask.
“Where is Carmen?” That woman treats this room as if it were a child, so her absence is weird.
“Off Work. They all are, by the way.I wanted us to have… privacy…” Even though those are the words coming out of his mouth, I totally understand what he’s really saying: He wanted no one to know about our deal.
