The price to pay

Chapter two

"If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk forever in my garden."

Alfred Lord Tennyson

As the days, and especially the nights have passed, I have found out that my heart was afflicted by a peculiar illness.

My hypochondriac ego led me into thinking of a new affection unknown to mankind, or at least something real yet strange, until the link between Rita's thought and the dull pain in my chest became clear.

Whenever my head laid on the pillow, and the softness of it cuddled me to sleep, my mind wandered into dark eyes and curly hair.

For the first days I forced myself into not acting upon my curiosity, I just assured myself that nothing was worth revolutionizing my life and my rational thoughts prevailed on the intrusive thought of Rita.

I attempted to lead my life in a familiar way, driving to work, ignoring the phone staring at me in a defiant way, challenging me to find out more about her, during my lunch break, I attempted to eat with composure, but the tempting sound of Rita's laughter echoed throughout my mind, finally going back to work and dealing with my boss, who assumed he was too smart for his own good; when I drove back home, I blasted Latino music loud enough to not be able to hear my thoughts.

I did not see Anna.

She is still annoyed at me for what she believed is a lie, she believes right, but since she has no proof, no evidence of any betrayal, she simply ignores me and only refers to me with an indifferent tone to play pretend we are fine.

The commonalities of a long story.

It is finally on the third day after I've seen Rita that I decide to act upon my intrusive thoughts.

As I was parking, I boldly assumed it was her the lady in a white dress who was entering the Via across my apartment, and before I saw a mole that did not belong to her neck, I had ran behind her for way more than I would like to recognize.

I can't keep doing this.

So I finally justify myself into my madness and I grab the phone, opening my social medias in a feverish search for her name and last name.

Despite persisting in my search, the only confirmation of her existence was an enchanting picture of her, radiant and twirling in a gorgeous Moroccan skirt. That's when I understood exactly what she was like now and how I shall think of her.

I scroll my head as I press on her profile, only to find that I do not belong to the four hundred privileged people who have access to her pictures; I shall ask her permission to, then, and as I boldly press to follow her (this time I follow her, not a lady down a street) I get back on my actions and retire the offer.

Anna would not like this.

She is probably okay with me following random women on social medias who dance half naked for views, but she would not agree on me catching up on Rita, following her movements and glazing into her beautiful face.

She had made it clear that in a way or the other she had felt annoyed by her.

I shall respect it.

I pushed my limits by trying to follow her on social media, and disrespecting Anna by obsessing over her would be unacceptable.

So, it is only natural I won't act upon my curiosity and that would be the end of discussion.

After all, we did never live anything that would justify thinking of her like this; I did not own her, I did not love her, I never had anything but a vague promise of seeing each other again.

Six years... I could have seen her before, when some innocent messages revealed that we could have had something, anything, a couple of years ago; Rita had been the one who found me, briefly, as she was studying for her degree.

If only she did not confess me of her youthful attraction, at some point, I would have never given her a second thought and seeing her at that bar would have been as joyful as seeing an old friend; but I had thought of cheating on Anna, for the first time in my life, as the promise of seeing her, a clandestine and forbidden encounter where no one knew us, lingered in my mind.

And then she had disappeared.

By the fifth night, I obsess again over the fact that, as I can find her social medias, she could be finding them as well, and if she would have been as interested, she could have also searched for me.

Why could she not just allow me into her world, to take a peak at it and then as easily as that, I would walk away and never bother to think about her again?

My thoughts wandered to Rita, and I was consumed by the memory of how her laughter sounded like music in my ears.

"Hey, you okay?" Anna's voice cut through my thoughts as she walked into the room. I turned to face her, the guilt for what I had been thinking consuming me.

"Yeah, just couldn't sleep," I lied, not wanting to confess the truth to her.

Anna gave me a sympathetic smile before walking over to my side of the bed and wrapping her arms around me. Despite her warmth and affection, I couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness as my mind drifted back to Rita.

"It's just this job, it's been stressing me out lately," I lied again, trying to justify my sudden mood swings to Anna.

She gave me a comforting squeeze before retreating back to her side of the bed, her eyes with a hint of concern in them as she turned off the bedside lamp.

As I lay in the darkness, I realized that I couldn't keep carrying on like this. I needed closure, one way or another. And that's when the idea hit me. I needed to see her one last time, just to finally understand whether this was real or not.

I had to find her.

How?

Maybe I could just patrol the city in my car hoping to see her and charmingly simulate a coincidence... not even Anna could get upset about it, it would be a fortuitous encounter with her, nothing that would need to be hidden, nothing that I would have to defend.

But how insane was it?

The chances of running into her in a thirty-thousand people city were low, especially if I wanted to keep my job and not dedicate every day all day long to search for her.

The feverish desire of seeing her started burning inside of my chest, and the forbidden disease was starting to spread; I stare at Anna, whom sleeps undisturbed and not a thought crosses her beautiful blonde head, and I attempt to control myself.

Not here, not now.

But even as I fought it, the longing only grew stronger. It tortured me through the night, a fierce hunger that wouldn't relent. And so, I surrendered to its will and let myself drift into a dream.

I found myself with Rita, sensual and bare-shouldered, her laughter no longer joyous but filled with something else entirely. She pulled me close, her lips soft and exhaling slowly as we kissed. Her curls framed her like a masterpiece, drawing me in deeper as her voice murmur my name - "Marco."

When I woke, the guilt of it all weighed heavily on me. But still, my body begged for release as my manhood stirred with a passion I could not ignore. Anna remained asleep beside me, and I refused to disturb her slumber with my savage needs.

Instead, I lay in bed, my body hard with pent-up desire, consumed by the wrongness of my actions. For now, I would indulge in my darkest cravings and sate the hunger that threatened to consume me.

When I start planning on how to find her, my phone notifies me of a foreign, unknown number and as I read my hands shake:

"Hey, turns out I had your number still, wanna meet up for coffee? Rita"