Translation of Love - By Alice Montalvo-Tribue Page 0,19
house. In true Victor fashion, he has a hold of my hand, tracing circles against my palm like he did that first night. How have I come so far in just a few short days? I’ve gone from never wanting to date again to having several dates with the same man. There’s still a part of me that’s telling me to run, lock myself in my house and never see him again, but I know that I have to fight that urge and give myself a shot at something more. Even if it only results in a few fun dates.
“I’m going back home tomorrow. I have to be in the recording studio tomorrow night.”
A sudden pang of sadness and disappointment hits me. It’s almost like a physical blow. I’m stunned and angered at my reaction but I do my best to cover.
“Are you working on a new album?”
“Yes, but I’m taking it slow. I’m starting the writing process and I’ll see how it goes.”
“When was your last album released?”
“About two years ago. I’m contractually obligated to do one more and then I’m free to do what I want.”
“I see.”
“I was thinking if you want, I could come back down on Friday and spend the weekend with you. I’ll stay at the hotel again.”
Just like that, my disappointment evaporates. “I’d like that.”
When we make it to my house, Victor walks me to my front door and places a soft kiss on my cheek. “Thank you for this weekend. I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed myself this much.”
“I’ve had a lot of fun this weekend too. Thanks for…everything.” I pull him in for a quick hug. As my arms go around his neck, he bends forward and touches his lips to mine. His arms close around my waist. I open my mouth slightly, it’s an invitation which he accepts. His tongue slips into my mouth and he kisses me, hard, wet and long. It’s better than the times he has kissed me before. This kiss is heated, filling me with a desire that pools in my most private places. This kiss is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. I pull away because I know that if I let him go on, I won’t be able to control myself.
I let out a giggle. “Good night, Victor.”
“Good night, Love.” He gently tugs a strand of my hair. “I’ll call you, okay?”
I give him a nod, let myself into my dark house and watch through the window as he drives away. For the first time in a long time, I find myself looking forward to something, and what I’m looking forward to is Victor’s return. It’s a shocking admission, one that I’m not completely comfortable with. I search through the database of my emotions and realize that I’m feeling hopeful. For me, nothing is scarier than hope because I know that when the thing that you hope for is lost, it leaves a surplus of new emotions, none of which are good.
I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this alert on a Monday morning. My bouts of insomnia normally leave me feeling groggy and exhausted, especially at the beginning of the work week. Last night, after Victor left and I went to bed, thoughts of the weekend flooded my mind. I’ve been so careful over the last few years to keep relationships at bay. So how did I, over the course of one weekend, get here? Not that Victor is my boyfriend, but he’s more than I’ve allowed myself to have since what happened with Brian. Brian, who I once thought I loved, who I thought loved me, who turned out to be disastrous to my existence. Even with all of that going on in my head, I still managed to fall asleep relatively quickly.
I’ve always hated my job, the work is boring and the people are horrendous. However, there are two saving graces for this place. First and foremost, my salary is pretty damn awesome. Second, the Human Resources manager, Jacinda, is one of the sweetest people I know, so when she pops her head in this morning, I’m truly happy to see her.
“Hey Girlfriend! How was your weekend,” she asks in her usual perky manner. Jacinda is a natural beauty. Her olive skin gives her the glow that people pay hundreds of dollars to try and achieve. She has curly, brown hair that falls just below her shoulders, brown eyes, pouty lips and curves in all the right places. Most