Chapter 29 - You Taught Me Something - mduno
Mr. Fausto's shout was overwhelming. The music had already ended, and Simón paid them. My boyfriend smiled, realizing he was the topic of conversation with my brother.
"Thank you for taking care of her." They shook hands, and Dad looked pale.
"Did they do anything to you, my angel?" I shook my head to calm him down.
"Just a couple of cuts."
Dad looked at Roland differently now; he was no longer the intruder but the hero.
"Young man, thank you for what you did." He couldn't take his eyes off me. "And you, weren't you going to tell me? We'll talk later. Besides, it's late, and Vero is a decent woman. You can visit her tomorrow; it's time to sleep."
"Of course," he said.
How embarrassing! Roland was holding back laughter. Santiago burst into a fit of laughter, and as expected, my face turned a thousand shades of red. How could he say that? I'm not a child.
"I'm going, Dad." Santiago took him away, closing the door to give me some time to say goodbye. "Sorry..." I received a sweet, long kiss in response.
"I don't want to make your father angry."
"Tomorrow is my graduation party, and I hope you can come." It was already Friday; I looked at the clock, and it was one in the morning.
"I won't miss another day without seeing you, not after these damn fifteen days. I won't let my girlfriend dance with anyone but me."
"You're so possessive!"
"I didn't know I was either, just another flaw on that long list of mistakes."
"Don't regret it; I'm starting to like your possessiveness."
"And then you say you won't be a great submissive under the control of a good master."
I wanted to tell him so many things, but I was sure that I would never do something I didn't like. The idea of receiving pain wrapped in an atmosphere of "pleasure" wasn't my sexual fantasy. Those practices accompanied by mistreatment were a spiritual flaw.
"Don't get me wrong," I clarified.
"Since I met you, I've been confused, Vida." He hugged me. "Is the gathering formal?"
"Yes, black tie." I made a face.
"See you later, Verónica."
My father went to bed once he made sure Roland had left. Lorena and Santiago continued talking in the living room, and I went into my room, floating in a bubble of love. It felt unreal that I was now the official girlfriend of Mr. Roland Sandoval. My cell phone rang when D'Artagnan jumped on the bed to lie down with me. The phone said "unknown."
"Hello?" I petted the dog's fur.
"Did your father say anything to you?" I smiled at the sound of his voice.
"Is this another phone?" I heard him breathing.
"It's a secure line, Verónica. I'll call you from various numbers, including the one you have saved as mine."
"I understand." He hadn't been gone for ten minutes, and I already needed him.
"What are you doing tomorrow?" I smiled like an idiot.
"I have an appointment to get my nails done, my hair, and makeup in the afternoon. Why?" D'Artagnan started barking.
"I want you to come with me to a couple of places."
"How early?"
I got under the covers, and my dog settled next to me.
"Eight in the morning at the latest. This is new for me, and I want to know if it's normal to already want to see you again." I stifled a scream of excitement.
"Being tipsy helps you; you become communicative and start telling the truth."
"I've never lied to you, Verónica. If anything, I come off as arrogant for telling you things as they are." He was right about that.
"Maybe. When someone cares about someone, it's normal to want to see them all the time."
"You're several steps beyond interest." If he were in front of me, I'd be devouring him with kisses.
"Which step?" He stayed silent for a while before speaking.
"Have a little patience with me. What I'm experiencing is the spiritual or emotional version of your virginity."
I didn't know what to say to that. I was the first in his life regarding his heart, while he would be the first with my body. I wanted to jump out of bed and leap around.
"Not even I know myself," he said more to himself.
"Why did it take you so long to come back?"
"I heard you were happy the last time I decided to call you, so I preferred to continue with my life, but I couldn't." I heard silence on the other end of the phone. "Is not wanting to hang up and just being certain of hearing your breathing part of a relationship? I feel like an idiot!" My eyes welled up. "I don't want to hang up, but I don't know what else to say."
"I can ask you questions, and you can answer." I didn't want to hang up either.
"Okay, give me a few minutes. I'm getting home; I'll call you later."
"Alright."
My insides twisted with excitement, I was uncontrollably happy, rolling around on the bed like a child being tickled. In less than five minutes, the phone rang again, and the screen said "unknown."
"Did I take too long?" I hugged the dog. "What are you doing?"
"I've already gone to bed, and D'Artagnan settled next to me. And you?"
"I'm also in bed, waiting for Inés to bring something to eat, at her request, not mine."
"When did you call?" I had agreed to talk until we got tired.
"On the fourth day after visiting you post-Santa Marta trip." I frowned, remembering I had received calls that didn't go through.
"Since the Santa Marta trip, I haven't been happy, except today. Laughing at something is one thing, but being happy is another. My friends didn't know what to do to distract me."
"I heard you laugh; I imagined the sadness from that afternoon had passed. I don't want to see you like that again."
"Where did you go?"
"I was in Mexico, then traveled to the United States, to San Antonio, Texas. You taught me something. Your abandonment in Santa Marta was the incentive to do something I should have done a long time ago. It's still hard, but deep down it was very comforting, I would say renewing and necessary. Thank you for that."
"What did I teach you?"
"To forgive, Verónica." My heart clenched at his confession. "I was the one who offended you. Yet, in the note, you asked for forgiveness for hitting me when I deserved that slap for being such a jerk."
"Watch your language." I heard him laugh.
"I'm speaking as best I can. You wouldn't want to hear what I really think." I sighed; I had to get used to it.
"What stops you from being with other women?" I decided to ask. He stayed silent.
"Since I touched you and felt the wetness of your 'vagina'—I imagine the word imagined because he emphasized just that word—your own scent, a characteristic of each woman."
"What?" I whispered.
"Maybe... I'm a sex addict." My heart raced a mile a minute. "After leaving your room, I didn't stop smelling my hand, as if your scent had mixed with my blood. Your scent ran through my body, and I don't want to erase that feeling with others. I confess, Verónica, I tried a couple of times, but they don't smell like you."
"I don't know what to say to that... I guess, thank you." I heard him laugh. "I love kissing you."
"Not more than I do, Beautiful."
"And I love hearing you say the word 'Life,' it was wonderful. Keep calling me those three ways." I bit my lip.
"What's the third?"
"My full name." He fell silent again.
"It's time to sleep."
"See you tomorrow?" I wanted to confirm.
"Only death would stop me."
"And God too, Roland." I emphasized.
"I don't know your God; let's stay clear of that topic, no arguing, okay?"
"For now. Dream of me." I heard his laugh.
"I have for a long time."
I bit my lip to hold back the urge to tell him I love him and that I was in love.
"Now there are two of us." That was my response. I heard a laugh.
The next day, I went out to meet Roland. He arrived in the car he had given me for my birthday. He was dressed casually in jeans, a white shirt, and a black leather jacket matching his loafers. Until now, I had never seen Roland poorly dressed; he used a different style for each occasion.
Today he looked relaxed and equally impeccable. He gave me that sensual smile. He stepped away from the vehicle to walk towards me, I took him by the neck and pulled him, our lips touched. God, how I liked this man.
My lips between his, his tongue exploring mine, making my body tremble and no longer belong to me. Who would have thought? My body belonged to him; it was palpable how he made me vibrate.
"Good morning." My father interrupted, arriving from buying bread for breakfast.
"Good morning, Mr. Fausto."
Roland took my hand; with the other, he wiped the lipstick from his mouth. I discreetly did the same.
"Good morning, Dad." I approached and kissed his forehead.
"Would you like to have breakfast?" I looked at Roland, unsure of the itinerary.
"Thanks, I invited Verónica to have breakfast elsewhere."
"I understand." He shrugged, then raised an eyebrow as he looked at the car. "Incredible, a Mercedes you have! It looks new."
"It is, sir. It's my graduation gift for your daughter."
There he was, the opportunist. Was he really that manipulative? And as if he had understood me.
"You have no idea how much. Are you going to reject my gift again?"