Page 74 of For his Surrender

“And what do you want to talk about?” Sitting on the bed, with his back supported on the headboard and legs stretched out in front of his body, he raises an eyebrow at me.

“I don’t know, anything, as long as it doesn’t hurt your precious code of silence...” I enter the closet, where I could live, not only for the size, but also for the view.

The main bedroom of the house is above the hillside, and all of it, including the closet, has the side wall in glass.With the blinds open, all you can see is the endless sea ahead of you.It’s more than beautiful, it’s perfect.It’s soothing. It’s unbelievable. I get lost in the sight again.

Actually not. I couldn’t live here, I’d probably forget about life.

“My God, you’re so bossy, woman,” he grunts, waking me from my silent admiration.I turn in his direction just to make sure he sees my raised eyebrow.

“Are we talking about this now?” Marcos snorts, to which I nod, affirmatively.

“Yeah, I really didn’t think so! Why don’t you tell me what exactly brought us here?I mean, you never really told me...All I know is that it involves your father catching you at inappropriate times, a board of outraged lawyers, and here we are. It was almost like making the powerpuff girls, add some of this, some of that and, boom!Have a disastrous marriage!

Marcos laughs, but when he realizes what he is doing, he changes his expression. I roll my eyes.

“You won’t be able to spend the next two years serious just to say you never laughed with me, Marcos! Don’t be childish!” I take the towel off my body and his gaze lasciviously glides over my skin, shivering me all over.I clear my throat, regaining the ability to speak that his eyes stole from me for an instant. “Talk first, real food later, and then, only then, do I let you fuck me, again.” I’m wearing the nightgown I grabbed from one of the drawers without worrying about putting on a pair of panties.

“Bossy...”

“Yea, sure! Let’s do this! Go ahead.” His eyes scan me for almost a whole minute.

“If I talk about my father, you’ll have to talk about yours...” he negotiates, and I tilt my head to the side, thinking.

“Fine, but it’s not like I have much to say beyond what I’ve already told you! Don’t say you were deceived.”

“Are we talking about this now?” he grunts, and I raise my hands in surrender.

“Just letting you know.”

“My dad caught me fucking my secretary on my desk, in my office, during work hours. Three times, two of them, in the same week…” It wouldn’t take a genius to know that his choice of words was made, precisely, to shock me.

“You’ll need to do better than that, champ!” I sit next to him on the bed, drying my hair with a towel.

“What?”

“If you want to shock me, Marcos!You’ll have to do better than use the word fucking instead of having sex! I worked for you for eight months without you having any idea of my existence, even though I was a flower of the sensitive field, which I’m not, I saw enough of you and your shit to become incapable of being surprised.” Now he frowns, and he rests his body on the head of the bed.

“My shit?”

“Uhm… Let me think?Oh!Wait!No need!” I raise a hand in the air and as I enumerate what I saw, below a finger. “Menages, orgies, you hiding from a woman who spent the night with you...And the list could go on and on...”

“And yet you said yes…” he murmurs, more to himself than to me.I am silent, I let him reflect, who knows this does not help him to understand that I am the one who has the most to lose with all this.

He shakes his head in exactly the same way I do when I want to expel a thought from it.Not that it really helps anything, it doesn’t, but I like to pretend it does.

And that’s just one more thing I’ve learned in the last month.Marcos and I are much more alike than I’d like to admit, actually, than I’ll admit out loud.

If I had been born a man, I probably would have become exactly what he became.Men have a privilege that women will never have.The right to irresponsibility.

I don’t think that privilege should exist either, but it does exist and it seems very easy to surrender to it.Now I’m the one shaking my head, pushing thoughts away.Marcos’ eyes widen, as if he had just made an incredible discovery.

“Asshole Marcos!” pronounces the words slowly.

“Can you blame me?”

“I still don’t like her!” he declares, talking about Grazi.

“She’s just being a good friend...”

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