Translation of Love - By Alice Montalvo-Tribue Page 0,53
You let me in just enough that you think I don’t notice that there’s a whole other side of yourself that you keep guarded. It’s like you’re just waiting for me to screw you over or something.”
What do you say to a statement like that? When someone calls bullshit on you that accurately, there’s not much you can say. “Okay. Maybe I’m a little bit guarded and I might have been hurt in the past.”
“We can talk about it. You can tell me anything, you know? I’m not gonna judge you, Ellie. I promise you can tell me whatever.”
I want to tell him. I want to be honest and tell him about it all but I can’t. I don’t want him to know how fucked up my life really was back then. “I can’t. I just… Can you just please be patient with me? Give me a little more time? I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready to talk about it but I can try to be more open.”
He sighs, brings his face down to the crook of my neck and says, “Yeah, Babe, I can be patient.”
“Thank you,” I say placing a kiss on his exposed cheek. “Are you hungry?”
“Yeah.” His voice tickles my neck, making me giggle.
“Yeah? I can make us some breakfast.”
“You wanna cook for me?”
“Sure, besides, I love your kitchen. I’m dying to cook in it.”
“Then go for it, Love.”
Victor’s kitchen is a like a dream. Everything is state of the art, shiny and new. I made pancakes for breakfast and we sat at the bar, ate, drank coffee and talked. After breakfast, Victor took me upstairs to take a shower, where we ended up making love. Then, he pulled me back into bed for a nap. It still surprises me how comfortable I am with him. How much I love being around him, how much I love being in his bed and in his arms.
The sound of a phone ringing wakes us. Victor reaches over me to the nightstand and grabs his phone.
“Hello?” he answers groggily. “What time is it? Shit, Bro, I’m sorry. I’ll be right there,” he says, hanging up the phone.
I prop myself up on one elbow. “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, Babe, but I was supposed to meet my brother in the studio half an hour ago. You wanna come? You can stay here and relax if you’re still tired.”
“No. I wanna go with you,” I say excited at the prospect of seeing him in his element. Then reality sets in. “Wait, you said you’re meeting your brother?” I know he can see the fear in my eyes, after meeting his mother. I don’t know if I can handle another family encounter.
“Aww, Baby,” he looks at me with sad eyes, “he’s nothing like my mom. He’s gonna love you.”
“Really?”
He nods. “Alex is the best. I promise you’ll be fine.”
“Okay.” I go to the bathroom to fix my hair and put some makeup on, while Victor calls Rob to pick us up. I put on the same jeans from this morning but pair them with a white, stretch lace fitted top and black boots. Victor is sitting on the edge of his bed waiting for me, wearing jeans and dark gray t-shirt. He makes simple look so good.
“You ready?” he asks, eyeing me from head to toe. I smile and nod, going to his dresser to grab my purse. He gets up, takes my hand and leads me through the house to a waiting elevator. Rob meets us in the lobby and quickly escorts us to the car. It’s a ten minute drive to the recording studio. On the way over, Victor tells me a little bit about his brother Alex. I learn that he’s been an instrumental part of Victor’s career, most noticeably as his personal assistant while on the road. However, in the last couple of years, he’s begun writing and producing some of the songs. I know that he is not quite as close to their mother as Victor is. No surprise there. He is 37 years old and unattached.
When we arrive at the studio, Rob ushers us into the building. We take an elevator to the fourth floor and exit into a dark, narrow hallway. Victor puts his hand on the small of my back and leads me toward the end of the hallway to a door on the left. As soon as the door opens, I come face to face with 6’2” of ripped muscles, olive skin and