The hand that held the glove was strong. The hand that held out toward her face was so strong as to make them fear an indelible mark on the face. He could not go home with that sign on the cheek. She was not ready to reveal his double life. She was not ready to reveal herself to her condition as a slave . That hand is stopped. He knew . He knew his fear. A sign of their bond so clear . A sign so unequivocal . She wanted to cry , because it was a sign that she wanted more than anything else and could not have it. He told her to get up. Her knees ached so much that he struggled to his feet. He looked at her with a steady gaze and straight. She felt falter. He was weak and he wanted to do just that. She was weak in his hands. Who had brought her there? Why did that step ? He did not know nor did she explain it . It was not usual to let go of herself , but she knew that that day would be different. He put the glove in his pocket. The leather glove came there for a while. Then he turned and walked to his car. She saw him go in and not to look at her. She stood still. Usually saliva after him, silent , submissive . But this time he could not move . Something held her back . He wanted to go with him, but something inside her was blocking . The engine was turned on. He was waiting . She did not move . His head bowed and eyes closed. He went away.
