Chapter 28 - On that step I am... Boyfriends? - Mduno
We spent Thursday afternoon meditating, relaxing, hydrating our skin, getting full waxing, and receiving scalp massages. We were at one of the best beauty centers in the city. A luxury that I paid for today; it was always Lorena who treated us. I scheduled a nail appointment for tomorrow and a hair and makeup session for Saturday. Santiago called to inform us that he had arrived.
"What did you get done?" We glared at him. "You look the same as when you went in."
"Idiot!" She laughed and winked at Lorena.
"What time does Dad arrive?"
"He's already at the apartment."
I didn't say anything else; the conversation continued between them. We got home at night, and my father came out to greet us. I ran into his arms like a five-year-old girl. He kissed my forehead.
"You look lovely, my angel."
My father's eyes were the only feature Santi and I inherited from him; the rest of us looked very much like our mother.
"Mr. Fausto, how have you been?"
Lorena approached and greeted him. Dad hugged her, giving her a couple of pats on the back.
"Father." They shook hands.
"Son, I had forgotten how cold it gets in this city." He wrapped himself in a scarf.
"Do you want something to eat?" I offered to make dinner.
"I'm very hungry, sweetheart."
I smiled, noticing the wrinkles forming on his forehead. My old man, the years don't come alone. Lore offered to help me, and they sat down to watch the news.
"What should we make?"
"Pasta is the quickest; we'll be eating in half an hour."
"You make the Bolognese sauce; yours is delicious."
Lorena got to work alongside me. Thirty minutes later, we were having dinner as a family. Since Roland left, this was the calmest and happiest night I had experienced. I completely forgot about the sadness. After drinking his herbal tea, Dad lay down in my bed. I took out my pajamas and personal items. Santiago was talking with Lore in the living room, his hand resting on her thigh.
If I go over, I'll ruin their moment. I wanted him to know, and now he does. Everyone carves their own path. I was getting ready to put on my sleepwear when I heard music... Was it a serenade? I looked out the window, and my heart skipped a beat; I was breathless. Lorena entered her room, excited and unsure of what to do, while I, for a moment, didn't know what to do.
"Vero..."
"Is it Roland?" my brother interrupted, smiling. "Vero, go out. Dad doesn't sleep deeply, and you two need to talk a lot."
"Did you tell him?" I confirmed, it was always better to tell the truth.
"Everything, you can talk without worry."
Roland had brought a trio. When I went outside, he was leaning against the railing at the entrance of the old building, arms crossed. Fifteen days without seeing him, and the memory didn't do justice to how attractive he was, even without hair.
My brother peeked out, his expression changed, and he clenched his fists. Meanwhile, I smiled at him like a fool. Lorena barely greeted him and took Santiago away, leaving us alone on the terrace. The trio was behind him, on Simón Street, with some of his bodyguards, Cebolla and one with a terrible nickname. I got a little closer; his eyes were sparking.
"Hello." He stayed silent.
"Do you love him?" I frowned. I had been told he drank very little and never lost his temper with alcohol. Why had he been drinking? "Answer me."
"What is this about, and who are you talking about?" he smiled ironically.
"Don't start acting like you're the same as everyone else." He looked very drunk. "I don't like repeating questions. Do you love the guy you've been with since yesterday and who, from what I see, doesn't leave your house?" I tried to suppress my laughter but couldn't; I loved seeing him jealous.
"Jealous, Roland Sandoval?"
In one step, he had me against the wall. The trio continued singing, now performing a song by Franco de Vita.
"I already told you I don't know if what’s making my stomach churn since yesterday is jealousy, Verónica. Tell me if you love him, and I'll leave your life."
"Of course I love him."
The pain reflected on his face crushed my chest. He stepped back a bit, tried to speak, but couldn't articulate a single word. He approached and kissed my forehead, then turned around.
"Roland! Santiago is my brother."
He stopped, turned around, and suddenly his arms enveloped me. His lips met mine. The way we kissed was irrational, desperate, with repressed passion. The sensation was perfect, like dancing, floating in his arms.
I realized as our lips satisfied the absence we had felt since Santa Marta. I was born for him, no matter what or how complicated living in "his different world" was. Something irrational bound me to him. We were breathless; when we separated, it took me a moment to regain my normal rhythm.
"I almost killed your brother." I pulled away abruptly.
"What?" He hugged me again, smiling.
"I was driven by the devil himself, Verónica. I had never drunk so much to the point of losing myself. I ordered Rata to kill him. The bastard didn't do it. This morning, when I asked him if he had completed the task, his response was that if I still wanted it now that I was sober, he would do it."
"And what happened?"
My heart was racing. I needed to know how to manage Roland's impulses.
"I don't know. I thought he was already dead. I was surprised to see him at your house. I suppose Rata found out who he was first. That must be it. He has never disobeyed my orders, but he always makes sure. He must have discovered he was your brother."
"You're crazy, Roland! You can't just authorize killing everyone you don't like, especially if they're close to me."
"I'm sorry. Ever since you crossed my path, I've been screwed, Vida."
"Vida?" I loved hearing that word from his mouth, with that second expression of affection when referring to me. The first was Hermosa, and now Vida. He noticed. He half-smiled, then hugged me tightly and gave me a light kiss on the lips.
"I have no idea what's happening to me. I decided to distance myself because it's for the best, Verónica. However, I was dying to see you." He inhaled the scent of my hair. "I work on finding out which shampoo you use."
I smiled, his fingers caressing my neck, driving me wild. That sensation of pleasure concentrated in one single point... in my lower abdomen. Roland's overflowing sensuality couldn't be denied. He created a bubble of eroticism with a simple touch.
"I don't want anyone else to touch you, much less kiss you. I want to stay close to you, have the freedom to kiss you at every moment, hold your hand, and always see you, protect you, Hermosa, take care of you. Because I don't know what would happen to me if something happened to you." He caressed my lip with the tip of his finger.
"I have no idea what you feel for me or where I stand with my confession. I just don't want to lose you. Don't leave again like you did in Santa Marta. I'm the bastard, you never run away."
"In short, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"
"Is that where I stand?" I smiled, and a thousand butterflies fluttered in my stomach. "I know I have a lot to learn about you. Be patient with me because I've never had a woman with the title of 'girlfriend.'"
"Am I the first in your life?"
"As I will be in yours."
He kissed me. This time it was different. The music was playing, and I was lost in his breath and our heavy breathing.
"I give you a month."
"A month for what?" We looked at each other in the dim darkness.
"For you to choose when we do it. I'm not a child, Verónica. You need to understand something. I demand a lot sexually. I won't force you to do it right away, but I want you to understand that I can't wait any longer."
I should have been angry at his display of selfishness, but I loved his possessiveness.
"I haven't been able to sleep with a woman since your birthday, and believe me, I've tried. You messed me up, and I don't know how."
"Why?"
"Because they don't smell like you, Verónica." This time, I kissed him desperately.
"What does this spectacle mean?"
I pushed Roland away abruptly. He looked at me, frowning. My father was waiting for an explanation at the door of the house while we had somehow moved away and taken refuge in the darkness of the terrace.
"My dad." I whispered. He smiled and took my hand.
"What's your father-in-law's name?"
He bit his lip so sensually that I almost forgot my father's presence, who was waiting for an answer, not pleased with our display.
"Fausto."
Roland walked in his direction with me in hand. I was paying for hiding places by the pound.
"Don Fausto."
He extended his hand. My father, always a gentleman, one of his mottos being that decency never fought with anyone, shook his hand.
"My name is Roland Sandoval Manjarrez, and I apologize for what you just saw. However, I'm very happy. Your daughter finally accepted me as her boyfriend."
"Boyfriend?" My father only managed to say, looking for clarification from me. "When were you planning to tell me, Vero?"
"We've only been boyfriend and girlfriend for a few minutes, Dad."
I was embarrassed. This wasn't common anymore. My father was making a fool of me. However, looking at Roland, he seemed to enjoy the scene. I didn't find it funny at all.
"You're older. What do you do for a living, young man?" His direct character came out.
"Dad!"
My boyfriend squeezed my hand tighter while my face started to heat up from the neck up due to the untimely scene. Santiago came out, also trying to contain his laughter.
"I'm an architect and civil engineer, and yes, I'm almost eight years older than your daughter. At my age, I'm looking for something serious."
I looked at Roland, who was enjoying the role of boyfriend. For Lorena, it was a grand event. Santiago hugged her.
"Verónica is not a woman of..."
"Roland?" My savior intervened. "I told Vero yesterday that if I had the honor of meeting you, I would thank you for saving her from that assault."
"Assault!"
My father exclaimed. There was nothing more to do. Roland would be the hero in my father's eyes until he learned about Roland's other world. His different world.