Page 69 of For his Surrender

But it’s not just for me that the call does this, because before I can even turn around, Antonella’s frightened face appears in the hallway, as does her friend.Her eyes are wide, her skin is pale and her mouth opens and closes without saying anything, now she has decided to be speechless.Should I be thankful that this only happened after I made it very clear how stupid I was?

I laugh, dry, as I turn to the voice that called me and come across none other than Eliza.Life is really a joker for choosing to rub my friend’s wife, who I wrongly accused of being an idiot when I met her just now when she showed me that I am the greatest idiot of all time.

“Marcos...” Antonella’s voice sounds desperate, but I don’t deserve a look.I walk to Eliza, completely ignoring my wife’s call.

“How are you?” I ask the woman who looks at me confused, probably with the treatment given to the one who still has the wedding dress on her body.

“Yep! I just thought it was weird the way you were standing in the hallway.I’ve called you a few times, but you haven’t heard...”

“Oh… I’m fine, I just came to get my wife.” Now I turn to her, and fuck!The cries of agony in her eyes make me feel a little less miserable, almost nothing, but still something. “We’re already leaving...” Eliza shakes her head slowly, suspicious, but it’s nothing to do with what she says.

“All right, have a good night,” she wishes, approaches me and hugs me, I reciprocate, feeling more guilty than ever for all the unfair accusations I made against her.She kisses Antonella and says goodbye, turning her back and walking back to the hall.

“Nel…” It’s Grazi talking and I put my hands on my waist, laughing at my own ridiculous situation.God damn it, how stupid can I be?

“I’m in the car…” I still have the courtesy of warning before walking outside, but Grazi’s voice stops me.

“Marcos, don’t you dare...”

“Don’t you dare!” I warn, clenching my teeth soon after, trying to control my anger, but she seems determined to be uncontrollable, I turn my hands into fists and turn my back, walking in the opposite direction to the one they are both in, but I still hear the whispered alert.

“Nel, I think you better not go...” The motherfucker has the audacity to really sound worried, and I laugh, not being able to believe such a thing.

“Of course, because obviously I’m the danger of this equation. Fuck off!” Oh, don’t fuck! "I say, still looking ahead, but unable to contain myself, I turn to Antonella and point my finger in her direction. “And in case you forgot, you signed a fucking contract, because at least on that, I wasn’t stupid enough to take your word for it.” I turn around, walking out without looking back.

I throw myself on the limo seat and put my hands to my face.Fuck, fuck, fuck!A few moments later, the other door is opened and I hear the rustling of fabric when my baby wife — I laugh aloud at my own stupidity and correct myself in my own mind —,my wife, who would have fucked half of São Paulo, if given the opportunity, sits next to me.

“Marcos, I...”

“No!”

“I...”

“I don’t want to hear your fucking voice, so do us both a favor and keep your lies to yourself!” With my hands on my face, I hear her snort indignantly, and I lower my hands, looking for her screaming look and wondering if any of the times I’ve heard it scream before, they’ve told truths, or if they’ve also told lies.

At least now, when they call me an asshole, I have no doubt they’re being sincere.

“Yeah, you know absolutely everything about me...” I answer out loud, and she turns her face.

?

The way to the helipad is taken in silence only externally, because, in my head, there is a true marching band performing.When the helixes of the helicopter begin to turn, raising a real wind, I have the impression that the lost leaves in the middle of it are still better than me, because in the midst of the hell of the perception that Antonella spent the last month deceiving me, there is the fact that I need to make a superhuman effort not to look at her, when she is so close.

There is the fact that her smell has seeped into my nose and duels, from equal, with her lies, for space in my thoughts.There’s the fact that my desire to touch her seems even greater knowing now, that every time she pushed me away, she was staging.I should want her as far away from me as the earthly circumference allows one to be away from someone, yet I can’t stop thinking that if anything good has come of all this, it’s that my obsession with this woman finally has one less obstacle standing on its way.

And when the helicopter lands and she jumps out, a real battle takes place inside me.One that involves answering a single question, how much am I willing to do to get Antonella out of my system once and for all?I make my way out of the iron beast and propellers and walk a few steps behind Antonella to the only house on the island.The swaying of her hips steals and holds captive the attention of my eyes, and I curse myself for it.

I want so many things right now, I want to yell at her, but I definitely want to fuck her until everything her lying lips are capable of saying is my name.The moment the suite door closes and the island’s employees are left behind, Antonella walks away from me but says absolutely nothing.

I walk back and forth, despite the almost two hours I spent thinking about it from São Paulo to here, still unraveling every moment when Antonella seemed more than I saw in her.Every look.Every imperative speech.Every action determined.The memory of the night of the benefit event assaults my memory like an inexperienced bank robber.

It comes without care or discretion, touching every nerve and flooding them with its presence.Her response when I commented that she was different, her stance before important people, her haughtiness and comfort with the subjects spoken, she was always a fucking queen playing with me, and I didn’t see it.

Without permission, memories of her touch strike me even more violently than those of her behavior.Memories of how her scandalous eyes commanded me, how without saying a word she made me her slave, and I promptly obeyed every one of her commands, and lastly, and far more bitter than any other memory, comes to mind how she fled, leaving me behind, miserable, believing I had taken advantage of my innocent bride.

Damn woman!Momentarily, anger overlaps with the desire to consume her in my inner struggle, growing in giant waves.And as if responding to a call, the repressed and denied desire over the last month gains strength, turning into something far greater than tsunamis.I can’t scale its measure in a devastating phenomenon of nature at all.

The days of stolen gazes, the memories of exchanged touches and all her suffocating presence, all destabilizes me, driving me crazy and despairing, until I break the silence in an explosion that I cannot define if it is more anger, horniness or despair.

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