Chapter 89.
1087 Words
"Captured."
Alejandro.
She feels like a plush, cashmere carpet and smells like a meadow full of different specimens of expensive flowers. If I could just let my hands wander to her derriere…
Isis embraced Alejandro and he held her there. Executing his plans and letting her feel his desire for her.
But he was posing as the perfect gentleman, so he needed to fall back into his role.
He slowly broke the embrace and kissed her forehead.
Whatever crushes Isis had on campus, game over.
He opened the car door for her and she blushed, hiding her face from the shocked onlookers.
Alejandro smirked in pleasure. Dumb little students with no real lives.
"Where are we going?", Isis asked.
Alejandro started the car and reversed hastily, almost knocking down a few students.
He stuck his head out and yelled, "That will teach you to mind your own goddamn business!"
He looked over at Isis, who was trying so hard not to laugh, and smiled at her, full teeth.
The f**k?
He hated how she made him feel. Alive.
He had told her that he wanted to take her to the places she was used to going to, in a bid to play an emotional blackmailing game.
You’re so good at this Alejandro.
Isis.
She had felt Alejandro’s erection and could not believe that little old Isis, could give a man such as Alejandro, a boner.
And that kiss on the forehead. Girrrrl.
She got into his car and asked where they were going.
He had not answered her but rather reversed into the students standing around to watch them, and almost riding over them.
She felt like laughing after he told them off and caught her breath when she looked at Alejandro, who was smiling at her from ear to ear.
He had dimples.
Dimples that seemed to come out only when he smiled really broadly.
That is so adorable.
He had told her that he was taking her to a bistro, next to the beach in Bridgetown.
"I don’t want to impose on you, the kind of life that I’m living. I know you’re a simple girl. An island girl. And I’m the one that’s going to change for you. You told me that this was a place you grew up going to. I’d like to experience it too."
Isis smiled, charmed. She looked at Alejandro dreamily, got settled into her chair and cranked up the volume on Alejandro’s car stereo as they drove into the graffiti-splashed town of Bridgetown, Barbados.
Alejandro.
Nigga, what s**t place is this? He thought, as he pulled through the driveway.
Alejandro parked into the Bistro’s parking lot and took Isis’ hand as she stepped down from the car.
He had chosen the most modest car from his collectibles - A top-down, yellow jeep.
Perfect for island adventures and steamy s*x in the jungle, according to Alejandro.
He led her through the bamboo trees that led to the little cafe next to the harbour.
They passed a Rastafarian at the door of the bistro. He sat there, cap pulled down on top of his dreads, a dreaded beard, dark glasses, maybe some green army fatigues and broken down boots, smoking a joint.
He was probably a dealer.
He looked at Isis directly and said, "Orange yellow yuh nah know if it sweet", which directly translates to "Don’t judge everything by appearances."
Isis did not know what the man was implying by that but she replied saying, "Everyday buckit a go a well, wan day he battam drap out" which meant, "Every bad action, has a consequence."
She plastered on a fake smile and walked into the bistro, leaving Alejandro to pick up his face from the ground.
He knew she was an Island girl but had no idea that it was that deep.
Okay, so she’s African, Barbadian, Greek, Egyptian perhaps and what else?
He pondered on it so hard, forgetting where he was and what he had came there to do.
So, he didn’t even have an idea of her actual roots? He always knew the ethnicities of the girls he slept with, but this one..
He based his suspicions on her exotic looks, assets and behaviour.
This was the time when his psychology degree came in handy.
With that, he looked at the man up and down, scrutinizing him before going in after Isis.
As he was about to enter, he saw her standing in front of him, with tears streaming down her mahogany cheeks.
Isis.
Isis had gone in, to the bistro, and had decided to use the bathroom first.
She knew this place so well, which was evident in her confident strides around the restaurant.
She thought about how Alejandro’s eyes would soften around the edges every time he looked at her.
He can’t be playing a game. This has got to be real. Every time we see each other, we become transfixed.
She carried her thoughts with her, all the way to the ladies room, with a mischievous smile on her face. She knew what she had to do.
She needed to square up with Alejandro.
Isis was going to beat him at his own game, that was if he was playing one.
Better safe than sorry, right?
She walked into the ladies room and examined her face.
Pretty ebony tree. Eyes like fire. Cheekbones like Sheba.
She smiled at herself. What a day I’m having.
She eased herself, came out to wash her hands, fixed her gloss and left.
She went straight to the bar and ordered two tall glasses of Mojito cocktails, one virgin - a necessary aperitif for a day that promised good company, good conversation, and an amazing view of the beach and the yachts moored, in the harbor of Bridgetown.
Then, there was a laugh: a jeer that cut deep. And then suddenly, a distinct laugh that she knew so well, piercing her ears.
She slowly looked in the direction of the source of laughter and saw…her mother.
Seated in one of the bistro’s hammocks, nestled against the nook of the man she was having an affair with.
This was a place they used to come to, as a family, when her father was still alive and now her mother did not even think twice about dishonoring his memory.
She walked back to the entrance of the bistro in a zombie-like manner.
My mother is committing adultery without giving two f***s about my father.
She could not fight back the tears.
- Writer
