7
2016 Words
NADIA
“I still can’t believe you were caught having s*x in an open space, sis. You’re becoming wild, and I love it.”
I bury my face in the magazine I’m pretending to read, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me.
“Keep your voice down, Laura. We weren’t caught. He handled it before it escalated.”
She hums, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Attagirl.”
I roll my eyes and glance around the café, making sure no one’s close enough to overhear.
“So,” she leans in, lowering her voice, “have you guys actually talked? Like… do you even know his name now?”
“Nope.” The P pops louder than it should, echoing in my head like a siren.
Laura frowns. “I don’t get it. It’s been what—a month? What do you two even talk about, or…” she smirks, “…do you just spend all that time screwing each other’s brains out?”
I nearly choke on my drink. “Laura!”
She grins, lifting her glass for a slow, deliberate sip, trying to look refined when she’s anything but.
“It’s been a month and two weeks,” I correct, setting my glass down. “We’re taking things slow. And honestly…” I hesitate, my voice dropping, “I’m not sure I want to keep him.”
Her brow arches. “You make it sound like he’s a toy.”
A flicker of guilt rises in my chest. “That’s not how I meant it. It’s just… sometimes it feels like men come with too many buttons and no manual. You figure one out, and suddenly, something else stops working. And right now, I already have my hands full with Felix.”
Laura’s teasing smile fades. “You mean the Felix who moved into the guest room last week?”
The words hit harder than I expected. I look away, pretending to check my phone, but the air between us has shifted. It was tight, heavy, and filled with everything I don’t want to explain.
“Nadia?”
“Huh?” I lift my head abruptly, blinking like I’ve been caught daydreaming.
“Mom has been asking questions,” Laura says, her tone cautious, “and I don’t know what to tell her.”
“Well, that’s new,” I murmur, forcing a smile. “You always have something to say about everything.”
“Not this time,” she replies quietly. “And definitely not to her. She’ll blame herself.”
Laura’s right. Our parents’ marriage wasn’t exactly a happy one. It was more thorn than flowers, and we got pricked too, again and again.
Mom always prays that Laura and I don’t end up like her. Stuck in a house that feels too small, too silent, with a man who stopped trying a long time ago.
If she finds out about Felix and me… God, I don’t even want to imagine it. She’d see it as her fault, like I inherited her pain, her bad choices. She’d blame herself for me falling apart, too.
“Felix and I are going to his parents’ place for dinner next weekend,” I say eventually. “It’s his—our—way of keeping up appearances. We can do that with Mom too”
Laura arches a brow. “And how long do you think you can both pretend?”
Hopefully, not for long. Maybe… just maybe… things will fall back into place soon. My hope, fragile as it is, hasn’t given up yet.
She gets up, comes around the table, and slides beside me on the couch. “What’s going through your mind, sis?”
God, I don’t want to break down. Not here. Not in the middle of a restaurant.
Sensing it, Laura waves the server over, takes care of the bill, grabs my bag and my hand, and leads me outside.
“Let’s take a walk,” she says softly. “The air’s cool, and you need it.”
“Don’t you have to get back to work?”
“I called my PA. Cancelled the rest of my appointments.” She stops, facing me, and wraps her arms around my neck. “We’ve been trying to do this for weeks, Nadia. Work can wait.”
I blink back the tears, threatening to spill and lean into her hug. “Thank you,” I whisper. “For being here.”
We walk in silence for a while, our steps slow, the city hum around us fading into background noise.
As we talk about nothing and everything, my thoughts drift back again to my marriage. To the mess of it. To the choices that keep me awake at night.
I blink hard, but the tears still find their way out. I press my face into Laura’s shoulder. “Thank you. For not asking too many questions.”
“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” she whispers.
We walk side by side, saying little. The evening air is cool and clean, smelling faintly of rain and wet pavement. The kind of air that feels like forgiveness.
Streetlights paint everything gold and soft. For a moment, I almost believe I can breathe again.
But then my mind goes back to Felix, to the distance, to the slow unravelling of something that once felt unbreakable.
And then, to him.
The one who made forgetting impossible.
Maybe that’s why I’m holding back from him, from whatever this thing between us could be. Because if I let go, if I let him in, I’ll lose myself again. I can’t afford that. I need to be able to walk away without looking back without craving and without ache.
But every time I close my eyes, I see him. Feel him. The way he looks at me, like he’s trying to memorize every breath I take. The way his hands move over me, steady and certain. The way his mouth finds mine like it’s always known where to go.
God, he knows what he’s doing. He knows exactly how to make me come apart, and it terrifies me how easily I let him.
“I got the burner phone,” Laura says, breaking into my thoughts. She digs into her bag and pulls it out. “Made a f*******: account with fake details, like you asked.”
I take it and stare at the screen. My chest tightens, just thinking about hearing his voice again.
A small smile finds its way to my lips. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, sis.” She nudges me with a grin. “You know I got you.”
It’s 1 a.m., and I’m giggling like a schoolgirl on the phone with Mystery Man. Yes, I finally found a suitable name for him, from Eyes Wide Shut, and it fits him too well. There’s something about the way he talks, the way his voice slides through the line like smoke.
“If you want to stop, now’s the time,” he says, voice low and husky. For a second, I could swear he’s right here, his breath brushing my ear, his gaze fixed on me. His eyes, his hands… f**k.
“I can’t,” I whisper, the words coming out softer than I intend. “Even if I want to.”
He chuckles, slow and dark. “Good. Then listen to me.”
I shift on the bed, pulse racing. Even though he doesn’t know my name, I promised myself I wouldn’t hold anything back from him. He’s promised the same honesty in return.
“Prop yourself on your elbow,” he says, voice steady now, “and spread your thighs.”
I obey before I can think. The phone is warm against my cheek. I push the duvet away, baring myself to the night air. The sheet rustles under me. My breath comes quicker.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, and my body reacts before my mind catches up.
His voice alone could undo me. Each word lands heavy, deliberate, until I forget the distance between us. I can almost feel his fingers trace the inside of my thigh, pausing where I want him most.
“Now close your eyes and trail your fingertips down your belly.”
He exhales, a sound that borders on a growl. “Don’t stop until you reach that spot where it starts to ache.”
I close my eyes, and everything blurs except him. I gasp and arch my back slightly as my finger brushes my labia, then slide downward to the opening.
“f**k, you’re so wet.”
My lips part, a small, shaky laugh escaping. “How can you tell?”
“The sounds you make, the way your breath hitches... and I’m fully erect.”
He’s fully erect. My mouth waters. “You should take off your shorts.”I whisper before I can stop myself.
His reply comes fast, husky. Honest. “No. This is about you. I can wait.”
“Wa–wait for what?”
A low chuckle hums through the line, rough and intimate. “To f**k you.”
Damn!
“Enough talking. Now, move your fingers the way your body tells you to. Don’t rush it. Take your time. Feel it. Do you understand?”
I can’t form words. My mind’s a haze of heat and want.
“Sweetheart?”
I open my eyes and nod, then recall he can’t see me. “Yes.”
“Let your thumb massage your c**t simultaneously. And your free hand should stroke your nipples.”
A ruffling sound, and then he mutters an oath. I want to ask him if he’s okay, but I’m too far gone, lost in the rhythm of his voice and the tension tightening in every part of me.
“Move your hips. Slowly... and then add another finger.”
“What are you feeling?”
My breath turns shallow. I imagine him above me, his warmth, his scent, the weight of him, and the thought alone makes me tremble.
“Say something!”
His voice jolts me, and the motion sends a shock of pleasure racing through me. My fingers still, my breath breaking. “I’m so close.”
“Really? I told you to go slow, sweetheart.”
I bite my bottom lip as I add a third finger and clamp my thighs around my hand. A moan escapes, but instead of being embarrassed, I feel powerful. I let out another and move the hand from my n*****s to the bedsheets as my body convulses.
“Stop!”
What?
I want to cry at his command. I’m so f*****g close.
“I–I can’t.”
“You can.”
“I’m so close!”
“I know,” he says, and I can hear the strain in his tone. “I can tell.”
I bite down on my bottom lip, trembling as he keeps talking, voice steady, but heavy with need.
I keep stroking, praying he allows me to keep going before I pass out.
“Do you think you can drive in your state?”
“What?” I blink, dizzy. “Why?”
“Because if it weren’t for that damn rule between us, I’d already be at your door.” His breath catches, and when he speaks again, his voice drops even lower. “I need to see you, sweetheart. Now.”
The words detonate in my chest. I don’t even think, I just move. I grab a short gown, slip it on without bothering with underwear, and snatch my car keys from the table.
“Meet me at the park on Fifth Avenue,” he says. “I know a place there.”
There’s movement on his end, a door creaking open, then slamming shut. “I’m already on my way.”
I pull the phone from my ear, ready to hang up, but his voice stops me.
“Drive safe, please.”
I smile, pressing the phone closer. “You too.”
- Writer
