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“Hey, hey, hey! Are you alright?” I ask, but she does nothing but cough again and again.Shit, should I have been less straight to the point?That way, I’ll kill the woman before I get a chance to put a ring on her finger.I take a deep breath, seeking myself some air.
I rub my hands on Antonella’s back, and the sensation that runs through my body makes me frown.What the fuck, Marcos?! You haven’t even seen what’s underneath all that gray!
“W-water?” she asks through a cough, and for the second time in the last few minutes, I feel like kicking myself.
The award of the most inadequate person in the world to take care of someone goes, without a doubt, to Marcos Valente!How can anyone think I’m ready to get married? If necessity makes the thief, despair definitely doesn’t fucking make a husband!
In large and hurried steps, I reach the small bar in the corner of the room and take out of the small refrigerator a small bottle of mineral water.It’s only when I hand it to Antonella that I realize I should have brought a glass too. Holy shit!
She grabs the bottle and removes the lid, showing me one more thing I should have done and didn’t do, open the fucking bottle.I drag my hand through my hair, angry at myself, at the situation, at the realization that is obvious to anyone who knows me.I’m not husband material and I shouldn’t be being forced to become one.
The brunette in front of me drinks the water in small sips and then wipes the corners of her eyes, which I only now notice are wet with tears.This was probably the worst marriage proposal ever made.It suits the situation, at least.
“Better?” I ask, and she shakes her head, agreeing.
“I’m sorry…I…” Antonella begins, making me smile because she has no reason to apologize and yet, here we are.
Instead of going around the table and sitting on the other side again, I cut the distance between us.I pull the chair to her side, turn it around, and sit facing the side of her body.She moves, spinning her chair and coming face to face with me, our knees almost touching.
“I know this is a…sudden... proposal” I begin, while she tilts her head and raises an eyebrow defiantly.A broad smile takes hold of my face, and I find myself liking her to be both innocent and cheeky.
“You don’t know me...” she declares, as if that were all the argument necessary to make her point.And maybe it would be if I wasn’t so determined to get what I want.
“Marcos, Antonella.We’re discussing the possibility of a wedding, formality doesn’t make any sense...” Her face tightens in displeasure, she slightly turns her neck, tilting her head, and I want to laugh again because I can almost hear the annoying voice from the meme screaming inside her thoughts:do you ever look at someone and wonder: what’s going on inside their head?I’m sure that’s what Antonella wonders right now: what’s going on inside my head...
“It’s not as absurd as it sounds...” I justify, and her eyebrows almost reach the roots of her hair. “You’ve been working for me for months...”
“And if that were a requirement for marriages, corporate human resources would be on a war path...” she replies quick, and it’s my turn to raise an eyebrow.Definitely cheeky.She shakes her head back and forth, denying it.Then she takes a deep breath before speaking again, “You didn’t even know about my existence until a week ago, when… when… when…” she stutters.We’re back to timidness, so...
“When you saved me from sleeping on top of my own vomit, in the miserably drunk situation I was in…”
“Exactly...” she agrees, turning his gaze away from my eyes.
I rest my body on the back of the chair and rest an ankle on my knee.With my elbow over the arm of the chair, I bring my hand to my chin in a thoughtful position.Antonella stares at me, and although I don’t know her, my impression is that she screams her thoughts through her eyes.It’s weird to feel so knowledgeable about what should be kept from her mind.
“It’s a completely professional arrangement, Antonella…” I answer one of the many questions I read in her gaze.She tucks her bottom lip into her mouth, sucking on it. The sight, against all my better judgment, sends a shiver down my spine.
My eyes want to slide over her skin again and try to unravel if what’s under the thick and hideous fabric is worth it, but I stop myself.That’s not a deal I can fuck with, literally.
Unless she asks... my subconscious whispers, and I don’t keep from smiling... because, well..., what kind of husband would I be if I denied a wish from my wife?
“Professional?”
“Totally” I answer, going against the absolutely unprofessional images that populated my mind in the last few seconds.
“A marriage?”
“That’s what I expect...”
“Mr. Mar...” she begins, but I give her a questioning look, then she interrupts herself, takes a deep breath and starts again, “Marcos...” pauses and I smile, nodding.As if she was waiting for my permission, after that she continues: “I don’t understand why you are proposing to me...”
“It’s simple, a convenience marriage...”
“We are in 2021...” The comment makes me laugh.
“If you were a lawyer, you would know that this is nothing unusual, even in the twenty-first century…” Her face takes on a shocked expression, which is quickly replaced by an annoyed one.Antonella swallows dry, turns her face to the side, and again, her thoughts seem to be screaming.
At least it’ll make things easier when we’re married.
