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“Mija,” she sighs heavily. “I know. I know you hate when I say it. But Ihaveto. You have to keep a close watch on your waist. Your husband is very attractive. If you want to keep his attention, you must maintain a better figure. What kind of example are you setting for your daughters? Hmm?”
My weight is always too high for someone else—her, my father’s reputation, and now, my daughters.
“I understand we’re going to be in Medellin for another year or two. Let’s put the time to good use, yeah? We can get you down to at least a size eight. You’re pretty, but you are going to be beautiful,mija. We’ll go nice and slow, so you don’t gain the weight again.” My mother nods at me with a smile.
She loves me. I know she does. I don’t doubt it for a second. She doesn’t mean to hurt me. Her own mother had done the same to her, weekly weigh-ins resulting in her food being limited if she gained weight but no reward if she lost or remained the same. Beauty was the prize a man wanted, and if my mother was to escape the poverty her family lived in, then she had to sacrifice to land the man willing to give her a better life.
This is another lesson, like not complaining when your husband comes home late—or doesn’t come home at all. This is another cost, to stay pretty to please your husband. I nod, forcing a smile.
I’m up from the table. Do I say the words I’m going to the gym? Or do I mean to say them as I walk away? I’m not sure. All I know is I’m in the gym.
From what I can tell, it’s all for Manuel so apparently Blanca didn’t come in here or use it. A large portion of it is devoted to weights of all kinds, free weights, a bench with a bar of weights, a leg press, it’s a lot of weights. The only thing besides the weights is a treadmill, a rowing machine, and a long bag.
It’s at once a lot then not much at all. Maybe it’s how empty it is. Two walls are mirrored and two are windows to see out one corner of the house. The view is of nothing more than lush green forest.
My forehead is pressed up against the glass. Only for me to stare unseeing, wondering how often I should come in here, how many days a week, the length of time…
“What are you doing in here? I gave orders for you not to be in here.” Manuel is suddenly filling the open doorway.
The shock of seeing him pales at the fear at seeing how angry he is. “Why can’t I be in here? I can be in here without hurting myself.”
His frown deepens sending me back into the wall of glass. “I am aware you can be in here without hurting yourself. I don’t want you in here because I like you the way you are.”
I squeeze my hands closed. It doesn’t change, I can still feel my heartbeat pounding in my fingertips. “What if me in here is how I’m the way I am?”
An eyebrow goes up. “Don’t lie to me. I’ve told you I expect honesty from you. I know because I checked. What is your routine? What do you like to eat and drink? I know all of it. You hate the gym. Anything more than a long walk isn’t for you. You hate sweating. So, no. You aren’t allowed in here to change one inch of how you were from the day I first laid eyes on you.”
It’s an order. It melts my knees as my back sinks against the glass wall. “I’m going to change, eventually. Wouldn’t it be boring to stay completely the same?”
Step by slow measured step, he crosses to me. So big and strong and all mine. There is no other place in this entire world I would rather be than stalked with intent by my hungry husband.
“Yes, my dear wife, change is inevitable. One day, your taste buds will mature to accept the delicacy that is fresh oysters. One day, perhaps my taste buds will take a step back and admit those cup-of-noodles you love so much aren’t, in fact, trash.”
The shirt dress I’m wearing is pink and black striped with a lace collar in white. It’s pretty, and I feel pretty in it. I hoped he would be home early to see me wearing it. He pushes it up and off in one motion.
I’m left standing in a black sheer bra and panty set. Stopping to stare at my body, his lips disappear into his mouth and reappear wet. A hand is out, cupping my breast tightly. “One day, your breasts will grow then shrink for our child. I’ll be in heaven when they swell and hell when they change again. Fine lines will appear beside your beautiful mouth from all the smiles I want to give you. Still, I’ll want you. Whatever form your flesh becomes it isn’t the form—it’s the flesh. But if you try to change to fit an ideal or what someone else thinks you should be, I will spank your ass so red you’ll never think of doing it again. Do you understand?”
He lets my breast go then flicks open my bra with nimble fingers. I nod. “Yes.”
His other hand is tearing my panties from me. My hands are up around his neck. He bends over, his big hands under my ass lifting me in his arms. I’m pressed against the cool, hard, smooth glass and the soft, cool of the silk suit he’s wearing over a body harder than the glass.
I have no idea how his cock is out already and pressing inside me. I don’t care. All I know is I need him deep inside me, until there’s nothing between us, not even air.
It’s fast. It’s hard. It’s almost painful. And it’s over far too soon. I’ve come twice when he finally sags against me with his head on my shoulder. I run my hand over his cheek. “Welcome home.”
* * *
Manuel
Arriving home, I’m seething with frustration at the way everyone, but the one person I want, is greeting me.
“Where is Nicolette?” I ask of her mother.
“In the gym,” she answers with a satisfied smile.
The satisfaction is what stops me. “Why is she in the gym when I told her she wasn’t allowed in there?”
Brown eyes are wide. “Sheneedsto be in the gym. While there is little she can lose in the short time before the wedding—”
