Marriage.
Something about that word lingered in the back of my mind the next morning when I woke up. It left a bitter taste in my mouth, but oh so sweet at the same time. I loved marriage but I didn't exactly love the man I was married to. Or maybe I did. Maybe I just couldn't stand his guts right now.
He made me feel happy but mad at the same time. Sexy but with a hint of immaturity. Not good enough. The perfect wife. Did I speak too much? Did I wait until I got permission? Should I have skinned an Italian woman and worn her skin as clothes? Make him love me more. Make him less distant with me.
"Mona!"
I jumped and spun around to face the irritated face of my mother. She was wearing a black fur coat with a white jumpsuit underneath. Her hair was in a sleek low bun and she wore red on her lips. She looked perfect. Not a day over the age she liked to lie about.
She came around the kitchen and reached in front of me to turn off the stove. It was then that I realized that the smoke detectors were going off, meaning my blueberry pancakes were trash.
She fanned the smoke in front of me with a towel. She moved the now ruined pan onto a different part of the stove, "¿Que Paso? Where's your head today? I've been knocking for five minutes only to come in and see this. Where's Rafael?"
I grabbed the pan from the stove and threw it into the trash can. The smoke detector finally stopped thanks to my mom's make shift fan.
"He's probably impregnating the nearest Italian woman he can find." I said lowly.
I knew my mom heard it because she sucked her teeth. I knew she was going to try to give me a long speech about how much he loved me and how he would never do that to me. I didn't care. I didn't want to hear it.
I washed my hands before I got out of the kitchen and walked up the stairs. My mom didn't bother following me which meant she was probably calling my husband to tell him everything I did and said.
I entered the room that smelled strongly of Rafael's cologne and shut the door loudly. I wanted my mom to know I wasn't in the mood today. I didn't mean to be such a brat, but I couldn't help myself. After the way my husband made me feel last night, I ignored him and everything he did and yet I still couldn't relive myself of the anger I had.
I laid down face first on my bed at an odd angle. The coolness of my sheets contrasted with how hot I felt. My mind drifted to my sister Aleesa. She was probably somewhere in London meeting her new boyfriend. I envied her. She got to live so free. She got the luxury of becoming who she wanted while I got stuck here.
We were inseparable when we were younger. I was the oldest, so anything I did Aleesa copied. If I got a scratch playing on our make shift playground, then miraculously, Aleesa would have one too. My favorite colors were hers and my favorite movies became hers too. I didn't mind, it prevented so many disagreements growing up. Wherever I was, she could be found.
Until she was 16 and I was 17. Aleesa got pregnant. Jake Harbert. A senior. My father was furious. He threatened to have Jake arrested for rape, but my sister begged him not to. Instead she somehow talked him into letting her have the baby, give it up for adoption, and going to an all-girls boarding school in London.
Phone calls in the span of three months were the only way we kept up now. I was a month and a half away from another phone call from her. Last I heard, she owned a hair salon that serviced celebrities from all over and she lived in England's wealthiest neighborhood. You wouldn't be able to tell from the way she still partied and went out.
I got up from the bed and headed towards the bathroom. I slipped off the dress I had on and turned on the shower to hottest mode there was. It made me feel cleaner that way no matter how much it burned my skin. I got in and let the water cascade all over my body and my hair. I didn't intend on washing it at first but that gave me an excuse to actually do something with my hair today.
It only took me twenty minutes to shower and get dressed. I was blow drying my curls when my mom finally came to look for me. Her coat was off, but she was still wearing her high heeled boots. She looked upset with me.
"It's almost 11, and we need to get to this auction by 1," her eyes watched me blow dry my hair. She always loved my curls when I was a little girl, so I knew she was admiring them, "Rafael says to call him when you're all done. I have my driver waiting downstairs, so hurry up."
She closed the door behind her, and I rolled my eyes. Nevertheless, I rushed to finish my hair and apply light make up. Instead of dressing like I was going to a photoshoot like my mom, I chose a graphic tee and tucked it into a black leather skirt. I chose my favorite pointy Louboutin's. I grabbed my clutch from my collection of purses. I checked myself in the mirror before walking downstairs. My mom was on the phone sipping from a smoothie. There was another one in front of her which I figured was mine.
She turned her head when she heard my heels against the hard wood floors. She extended the second smoothie towards me, which I grabbed, and got up from where she was sitting. Without a word, she started walking towards the front door. I followed after her, preparing myself for another one of these events.
It didn't surprise me that my mom and I were the only black ones there, seeing as that was a common event. What surprised me was how clearly misrepresented we were in these social events. Everyone expected my mom and I to know all about the African art as if we had spent time with them. All of the art had descriptive paragraphs next to them so I wasn't sure why anyone thought my mother and I would have any inside scoop on how the art came to be.
After an awkward conversation with a man who claimed to be an artist who studied under Pablo Picasso, I went in search of my mom. The big space was filled with so many people, it was hard to get through without rubbing my entire body across someone. I finally made it to a rather spacious area but still no sight of my mom. I shrugged and grabbed a glass of wine from a platter beside me. I walked to a wall full of paintings and gazed at one with a woman looking at the moon from her second story balcony. She had on nothing but a sheer blanket covering her naked body. It clung to her like a second skin. The fine detail was incredible, even to the rust on the railing of the balcony. It seemed so real.
"I hear if you stare too long, you'll inherit her beauty. Not that you'd need any help with that."
I turned to see who was talking and gasped. I didn't mean to, but I couldn't resist myself. He was beautiful. Tall, eyes the color of honey, and dark features. He reminded me of an actor from my mom's soap operas, Cauã Reymond Marques.
"I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you," he smiled, and dimples adorned his cheeks. He held out his hand to me, "Levi."
I cleared my throat and placed my hand in his, "Mona. Monalise, actually."
He was talking but I was barely listening. Instead, I was discreetly studying his features. The black, cotton, long-sleeve did nothing to hide how muscular he was. His cologne, Clive Christian, filled my nostrils deliciously. I didn't mean to be eye fucking him so publicly while my gigantic wedding ring could be seen. My eyes trailed back up to his plump pink lips. They weren't moving, instead they were set in a smirk.
"I'm sorry, what?"
He chuckled. Clearly, I wasn't as subtle as I intended to be.
"I said, are you here alone?" His eyes looked down at my wedding ring then back up at me. Busted.
I took a step back when I realized how close to him I was standing. I wondered just then if anyone else was watching our exchange.
"Oh, no. My mom is around here somewhere," I glanced around me annoyed that I couldn't spot her, "She shouldn't be this hard to find. Were the only ones who look different around here."
"Different?"
I turned back to look at him, "Black," his expression didn't change, rather he looked intrigued, "I should probably go and find her. It was nice to meet you, Levi."
He held up his glass of something dark, "You too, Mona."
I walked away feeling like I just cheated on my husband. I could feel his eyes on me still even when I was too far mixed in with other people. It was like I was under a spell of some sort. I never was the type to openly stare at a man. It was always the other way around. I could usually make a man eat out of my palm with just a couple of words, but this time it was different.
I spotted my mom in a corner speaking to an older man. He was whispering something in her ear while she was just staring out into the mix of people. She didn't look interested nor did she look bored. I smiled. It was about time my mom moved on from my father and met someone new.
I hesitated interrupting before I decided that I was ready to go, and she was the only one who could fix that problem for me.
"Mami, ¿estas listo para ir?"
Her eyes went wide at seeing me in front of her. She glanced up at the stranger next to her before stepping towards me. The stranger turned around and I got a good look at him. He was handsome for an older man. He sported a mustache too thick for my liking, but he was still handsome nonetheless. His eyes lingered on me and a smirk appeared in his lips.
"Claire, aren't you going to introduce us?" The smooth accent immediately told me who this was.
My mom took a sip of her drink, "Monalise, do you remember Alejandro Colombo?"
I held out my hand to him, "It's nice to meet you, Señor Colombo."
Rather than giving me a handshake, he took my hand and gave the back of it a kiss. Feeling a little uncomfortable, I pulled my hand out of his. I didn't feel as uneasy as I thought I would when I met him. It felt comfortable, like I was meeting a family friend.
"Sorry for the interruption, but I must get home to my husband. I haven't prepared dinner yet, and I'm sure he'll come home hungry."
He held his hands at his sides, "That's fair but please, let me introduce you to my son." He pulled out his phone and sent a text.
I looked over at my mom. She was fidgeting with her purse and trying to look neutral. I knew she was actually annoyed but just didn't want to make a scene. Her reputation mattered to her more than telling someone to fuck off.
We weren't waiting for long before the smell of Clive Christian clogged my nose again. I turned to be faced with Levi again. It all clicked just then, the story that my mom told me. He was the man I was supposed to marry had my father's and Alejandro's plan gone accordingly. Why hadn't I connected the two earlier? It was definitely awkward now.
He kissed my mother's cheek, to which she graciously accepted before turning to me. He took my shoulders in both of his hands and leaned forward to do the same, "Hello, again. I'm sorry to deceive you, but I thought you'd recognize me."
I chuckled, "It's okay. I don't know why I didn't. I think it was the wine."
My mom cleared her throat. I looked at her to see her shooting daggers at me, "We're sorry but we must go." She made a show of checking her wristwatch, "Mona, your husband should be home soon. We shouldn't keep him waiting."
I knew what she was doing. Everyone did. I smiled politely at Alejandro and Levi, "It was very nice to meet you both."
"Wait, you're not staying for the auction?"
I shook my head but before I could say anything my mom answered for us, "No. We can't. Vámonos mija."
She grabbed my arm and began pulling me with her to the entrance of the studio. Neither of us looked back but just as before, I could feel them staring at us. The cool air hit us like a ton of bricks when we stepped outside. I barely had anything on to shield me from the winter air, so my mom handed me her fur coat. The car pulled up just as soon as we made it to the curb. The driver stepped out and came around to let us into the suburban.
I was preparing spaghetti and meatballs while my mom was drinking a cabernet and scrolling down her phone on the kitchen island. She hadn't said much since we arrived. I almost thought she might have wanted to stay for dinner until I heard her mumble something about Rafael being on his way. I knew she was waiting for him to get there just in case I tried to go call Alejandro.
Just as I was taking the meatballs out of the oven, we heard the front door open and close. Rafael was on the phone, speaking in Italian. He was probably talking who his dad who we hadn't seen in over a year. He stepped into the kitchen dressed to the nines. I would have asked him where he had been had I not been acting like I was still mad at him.
He hung up the phone before giving my mom a kiss on the cheek, "Good evening. I hope you had fun at the auction."
She smiled, "Oh, yes we did. We didn't have to use your check book though, because we left before the auction could start."
I added the meatballs into the marinara sauce and set the heat to low. I hit the spoon on the palm of my hand to taste the sauce. I sighed in satisfaction. Just like his mothers. She had taught me how to make a good pasta sauce when she found out Rafael and I were engaged. She had professed that was how she got his dad, by cooking for him.
The timer for the garlic bread went off, so I rushed over to take it out not wanting a repeat of what happened this morning.
From the corner of my eye, I could see Rafael take off his suit jacket and set it on the back of one of the island stools. It was his way of telling me that he was ready to eat now, rather than showering then coming back down to eat.
I scooped a generous amount of spaghetti onto a plate before adding an even heftier amount of tomato sauce and meatballs. He preferred more sauce to pasta anyways. I added shredded parmesan on top of it and a basil leaf. I brought over to him and set it in front of him. I took some cutlery and set it down beside him. I could see my mom pour another glass of cabernet, and I assumed it was for him seeing as she was still sporting a heavy glass.
"Mom, you want some?"
"Oh no, I should be leaving," she came around and kissed my cheek, "¡Gracias, Mija¡ I love you."
I returned the sentiment before turning around and taking out food for myself. I didn't realize how hungry I was until I literally couldn't stop salivating while scooping spaghetti into my plate.
My mom said her goodbyes to Rafael, who mumbled back a bye, before reminding us that she was going to Palm Springs for a friend's wedding and that she wouldn't be in town for the next three days. As happy as I would be that she would be butting in to my marriage, I was also going to miss her. Without my dad and my sister, my mom was all I had, and I hated being so far away from her. I wondered how Aleesa did it with no family around.
As soon as I heard the front door slam shut, I joined Rafael at the island.
He looked up from his phone, "Good evening. How was your day?" He pulled me into him and gave me a quick kiss on the lips.
"It was good. Mom and I saw some really nice art."
He nodded his head, "Did you see anything you liked?"
I spooned spaghetti into my mouth and waited until I was completely done chewing to answer him, "Not really. It was a lot of the stuff that I'm not really into. There actually was this one painting that I couldn't stop staring at, but we left before the auction."
His eyebrow went up, "Well do you remember what it was called? I could call and pull some strings and get it for you if you want."
I shook my head but didn't say anything further. I was too hungry to have a conversation right now. Especially one that wasn't important. Also, because I didn't want him to bully and harass someone just because I wanted a painting.
He finished eating before I did and got to work on the dishes right away. When I was finished I placed my plate into the sink and began packing the left overs into Tupperware. I was reaching across Rafael to grab a sponge to clean off the stove, when he pushed into me from behind. I sucked in a sharp breath and slowly drew my body away from him.
I knew he'd be horny after three glasses of the cabernet- I just didn't think it would happen right away. I was drinking water because I wasn't quite ready to go to bed yet.
I wiped the stove and threw the sponge back in the sink. I didn't want to risk a repeat of what just happened, so I went upstairs quietly, failing to tell him that I was going to go shower. He'd probably tell me to wait for him in the seductive way that he usually did, if I had told him, and then we'd end up being too wound up to even make it up the stairs. That has happened one too many times than I could count.
I wasted no time in getting in the bath tub. I decided on a bubble bath for the night. We had a candle setting on our light switch, so I didn't even have to light any up. The mood was already set. My head was laid back on the edge of the tub and I was humming a Lauryn Hill song when the door opened to reveal a very naked and hard Rafael. His eyes were low and staring at me predatorily.
The floodgates opened instantly. Something about that look did something to me.
He was in the unnecessarily large bath tub in two strides. He hissed at the temperature of the water seeing as I liked my water a lot hotter than he did. His hands instantly went to his length underneath the water. He stroked himself while I watched, entranced. It was always my favorite thing to watch my husband masturbate. The way his chest rose in anticipation, and his breath in short staccatos, awakened the beast in me.
I glided over to him and replaced his hand with mine. He groaned and set his head on the end of the tub. His eyebrows creased towards each other and little beads of sweat started to form on his forehead. I leaned down and kissed his lips. He grabbed the back of my head and, pulling me further into him. My strokes got faster and faster and I made sure to keep the spiral motion I was doing. He was cussing now. He was thrusting into my palm while our tongues fought for dominance. I pulled back from his lips to watch my handiwork, literally.
I liked seeing him like this. Flustered and satisfied. I liked knowing that I could please him that way. That he was mine to please like this. I knew what he needed, and he responded to my every touch. I could ask him to sign away everything he owned to me and he wouldn't hesitate to sign them away while I did this to him.
When his breathing got faster, he pulled my hand away. I bit my lip and let out a short laugh, "Let me help you, baby. Let me help you finish."
Chances were if he finished now, he wouldn't want to have sex. I knew that wouldn't stick when he pulled me onto his lap and gave my ass a swift smack before entering me without warning. I cried out in surprise. I threw my head back when he started thrusting into me fast. The splash of the water was no match for how loud I was. This position allowed him to be too deep inside. I wanted him out but at the same time there was something that felt so good about the hurt that I couldn't get away from.
I didn't notice when he took a nipple into his mouth, but I did notice when he slowed down. Without the harsh splash of the water, I could hear him say my name. He was apologizing to me in Italian and telling me that he loved me enough to start a war. I belonged to him and would bear him all the children he wanted. That nobody could take me away from him. In that instant, I felt the same. Nobody would ever be able to give me this. Nobody could ever make me feel like he did.
"... I never meant to hurt you, Tesoro. I love you. I love you. I love you..."
I smiled and kissed his forehead. He looked up at me before connecting our lips. He picked his pace and I was in heaven once again. I matched his rhythm before I was yelling out my release. I was barely off of my high when I felt Rafael shoot into me. We laid hugged together for about five minutes before I moved off of him. I got out of the tub and went to the shower. Rafael followed me in and helped me wash myself while I did the same for him.
When we were done, we got into bed where we indulged in more moments where we got lost in ourselves. I didn't remember going to sleep but, the next morning when I woke up, a smile was tattooed permanently onto my face. Rafael was still laying beside me, making me even more happy. He was usually gone before the sun came up.
I got out of bed and stretched my sore limbs. I had to hold onto several things before I could walk semi normally. I went into the bedroom and got ready for the day. I didn't take long but I figured Rafael would have woken up by the time I got out. I was wrong, as he was still sprawled out on the bed.
I shook my head and walked out of the room, humming a Nicki Minaj lyric about putting someone to sleep and being called NyQuil.
I settled on making eggs for breakfast. He'd need the protein from the rapacious night we had.
The door bell rang just as I was about to beat the eggs. I wasn't sure who would be visiting us unannounced but went to answer the door anyway.
A man wearing a brown uniform was holding up something wrapped in brown paper.
"Mrs. Boerio?"
I nodded my head, "Yes, that's me."
He lifted the square and made to come into the house. I stepped aside and let him in. He set it down in front of the living room before coming back and handing me an envelope, "You have a nice day, m'am."
I said a weak, "you too." Before shutting the door and tearing right into the envelope. There was a letter written in cursive with blue ink.
'Mona,
I hated that you had to leave that beautiful painting behind. Something told me that you had a deep connection to it. Before you say you can't accept it, just know that I had to outbid three other women who claimed it 'spoke to them' or some bullshit like that. I'm not asking for you to pay me back, I'm only asking that you do us the honor or showing up to your fathers benefit. Please respond by the next two days.
XX-Levi.'
I smiled at the letter before going over the square wrapped in brown paper. I undid the string tied neatly around it and pulled open the front of it. The woman on her balcony came into view and I gasped. Even though he said he got it for me, I was still shocked.
I heard thumping upstairs, so I scrambled to hide the letter in one of my coat pockets by the door. I went back into the kitchen and went to work on beating the yolk. Rafael came down not even five minutes later in sweatpants and no shirt.
He smiled when he saw me and made his way over to give me a deep kiss. He grabbed my butt and pulled me closer to him before letting me go and breaking the kiss, "Good morning."
"Good morning." I chuckled and turned back around to put the eggs in the pan. The sizzling reminded me that I needed to put bread in the toaster.
When I turned around I caught him looking at the painting. His eyes were squinted like he was studying it.
"Beautiful, right?"
He turned to me, "Where did it come from?"
I turned back around so he wouldn't see my face. I was great at keeping secrets when I wasn't doing it to his face.
"I don't know. It just showed up. One of mom's friends must have seen me stare at it a little too long and put a bid in in the auction."
He snorted in response, "It didn't come with a letter or anything? Or the delivery guy didn't mention anyone?
I shook my head and feigned ignorance while mixing the eggs into scrambled eggs on the stove.
"Don't you want to send a thank you card or something?"
I shook my head and gave a quick glance at him, "I think they know how thankful I am. I couldn't stop staring at the thing yesterday. Trust me, they know.
I could hear his feet come closer to me. I felt his body heat before he wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled his nose on the column of my neck. He gave it a light peck, "Okay."
I smiled, happy that he decided to drop the subject. It wouldn't have taken him many more questions before I'd crack and tell him everything. I was just grateful he was willing to drop it for now.