POV Camila I had hardly slept that night, anxious for the impending surprise trip which would not only make me travel by plane for the first time - which I had to admit was not the main reason for my panic - but I would also meet Lauren's family , that yes the fact that worried me. They must be cool. I repeated this as a mantra inside my own head while watching Lauren sleeping. She was deep in sleep, but I noticed in some moments that she dreamed. Most of the time I said incomprehensible things, but when her face contorted in an expression of sadness or displeasure, she instinctively brought me closer to her body, squeezing me so tightly that I doubted if she was even unconscious. I wondered if she was having some kind of nightmare with me. I remembered all those I had had with her. Fortunately, insomnia worked on it, keeping me awake almost all night and preventing my fears from plaguing me in the form of dreams again. It was 5 o'clock in the morning when I saw the watch for the last time and I was able to relax in Lauren's arms. *** I woke up at 10.15 am feeling a little cold. I was alone and with a headache, so I tried to get some sleep, a task that proved impossible, since my anxiety would not let me relax. I took a hot, time-consuming shower while plotting for the rest of my day, at least until Lauren came home from work. I dressed in a set of sweaters and fluffy stockings, grabbed a banana in the kitchen, and went to my room to start separating some clothes for our Christmas trip. I found three large, discreet suitcases lined up near the wall, so I wondered if Lauren really thought I'd take so much. Ignoring the rest, I separated a single suitcase for the trip. I chose the newest clothes for a variety of reasons. First, they were prettier. Second, there was no risk in making her or I remember unpleasant things. Third, they were far more elegant than my old plays, and it would probably be more appropriate to dress that way next to Lauren's family. Even so, I kept putting on some old coats and comfortable sweatpants, since I had no idea how cold the London nights were. I wondered if it would be good to pack up Lauren's suitcases as well, since I did not know what time she would be coming home, but soon I gave up on the idea because, apart from being able to make her uncomfortable with me, trying to deal with things that were her responsibility , I had no idea what kinds of clothes she wanted to wear. I took the present, still wrapped up, and put it in my bag, afraid that if I left it later, I'd forget to take it with me. I put some shoes, socks, winter clothes like gloves, scarf and cap, plus underwear in my bag. I remembered I had two glasses of perfume, but both were too strong. One, even, was the same perfume I had used the night we met, so I figured Lauren simply hated him. As a single outlet, I packed along with the rest of the stuff my bruise cream - which I knew I would not dislike - and zipped. It took me longer than I imagined. I looked at the clock, which marked 12:30, so I thought about what to do for lunch. Since she was alone, anything frozen would be a good size. I prepared a lasagne in the microwave and ate it in the microwave, trying not to think about anything related to the trip and everything that could go wrong with it. I finished lunch around 1:15 a.m. Without much to do, I rushed to Lauren's room and turned on the tv. I went through more than two hundred channels three times, taking a few movies only to see if they caught my attention, but there was not something that interested me or that could stop me thinking. They will hate me. They'll think I'm a bitch. They'll think I'm not good. "And why would they think that?" I asked myself. Because I do not do it. I did not answer. Worst of all was not having to live with Lauren and pretend life was simple. It was the fact that I had my own conscience against me that was driving me crazy, and I was sure that if I did not reverse this situation, for better or for worse, I would end up in shit. I got up angrily, not knowing who or what, turning off the tv and returning to the kitchen. I thought of any easy recipe, hoping Lauren would have all the necessary ingredients.A quick search of the pantry and kitchen cabinets confirmed this to me, so I forced myself to remember how to prepare the dessert I had in mind, trying to forget the world around me. I prepared the chocolate syrup with condensed milk and ground nuts, waiting for it to cool down a bit to be brought to the refrigerator afterwards. I beat the cream and the chocolate powder, forming a homogeneous paste. I threw in chopped sighs, chocolates, shredded coconut and nuts, some whole and others crushed. I stirred well and set to freeze, taking with me the syrup that seemed to be already less hot. I went to the bedroom and thought of what clothes I would go to the airport. Since I had many options, it took me a while to find the best combination - the best one, because I liked them all - and when I finally decided I put on a black leather jacket, a warm gray blouse underneath, a black scarf and cap, jeans and medium-breasted boots, I wondered if I was doing it to my liking or Lauren's. Tired of zigzagging around the room and afraid to make a hole in the floor, I went to the library, examining some of the copies on the shelves on either side of the room. The room was not large so I could read most of the titles but there were many. I discovered that Lauren was a fan of suspensions, having beautiful collections of Arthur Conan Doyle, Sidney Sheldon and Agatha Christie. Sweeping my eyes continually through the shelves, I noticed that the bookcase on that side of the room was shorter than the other. At the end of it, a door occupied the rest of the wall, so I noticed that the last time I had been there-with Guadalupe-I had not noticed her. I turned the knob without thinking and noticed that it was not locked. I wondered if it would be rude to enter without permission, but then I remembered Lauren's words when I said I could do whatever I wanted in that house. Besides, if there was something she did not want me to know inside, I would not leave the door just leaning against it. I entered a small room, smaller than the library, with walls in a wine-tone and with a different look, the wooden floor covered by a large dark Persian rug. A mahogany grand piano stood above him in the center of the room, and beside him a large wooden bench stretched almost across the length of the wall on the right, beneath a curtained window. And that was all. It seemed to be Lauren's private music room, simple and discreet, yet warm and mysterious at the same time. Immediately I pictured her there, playing, composing melodies similar to the one I heard on the radio of her car. It was a magnificent image. I stood there for a while, thinking of nothing in particular. That place gave me a strange sense of peace, and standing there, even without doing anything, was good. I sat on the long bench under the window and closed my eyes. The smell there was pleasant. I wondered if I would ever see her touch anything. Maybe I would ask her. I do not know how much time passed. I remembered the dessert, which by that time would be ready, so I left the room, feeling the aura of tranquility falling behind.I took the jam from the refrigerator along with the gravy, spilling it over the chilled batter. The appearance was very good, but I did not know if the way of preparation had been done right. I went to the cupboard on top of the sink and picked up a bowl of ice cream and two spoons, taking some of the cold batter out of the serving dish and pouring it to me. I had been right. I was always very critical of the things I did, but there was no denying that it was really good. I was proud of myself for the deed, and I deeply wanted Lauren to be there so she could taste my recipe and, perhaps, fill me with compliments. Like water turning into wine, she miraculously emerged through the door to the living room. I was frightened by her almost supernatural appearance, though I was happy, and wondered when she had developed the ability to be silent as a slug. Lauren wore an overcoat, different from the one worn the day before, and she wore a black dress. He took his gloves off slowly, not in a hurry, as he stared at me silently. I looked back. She was now coming toward me, a calm expression on her face, averting her eyes to the candy dish in front of me on the balcony between us. - You did that? - Yes. - Can I prove it? I hurried to fetch a larger piece of wet bonbon from the bottom of the bowl, but it was a huge challenge to bring it with the spoon up. Maybe this was due to the fact that it was a task that required a minimum of motor coordination, and if I was already bad at it normally, my incompetence tripled when Lauren was staring at me so closely. A little desperate, I dropped the spoon and took the candy with the index finger and the thumb, leading to his mouth. She stared at me with an indecipherable expression, but before the drop of chocolate that formed there could fall, Lauren bit the candy. When I waved my hand away, she gripped my wrist tightly, and still staring at me, sucked my two fingers one at a time, leaving them clean from the syrup that dripped there. I stared at his mentally feeble lips running down my fingers. I realized that I was open-mouthed, so I closed it abruptly, wishing with all my might that I stop acting embarrassingly every time she did something provocative. "Wow ..." She started, taking a moment to swallow. "That's perfect. - Thanks. I smiled, happy at her comment, hoping she was telling the truth. "Can I eat this with you someday?" It was a silly question to ask. Why would she ask permission to eat anything with me? - Clear. Let me get you a cup, we ate together ... I made to get up, but she held my wrist again, preventing me from leaving the place. "I do not think I was clear." Let me rephrase the sentence: Can I eat you with it someday? I was making that stupid face again, I knew. Even without being in front of a mirror, I also knew that my face could easily be mistaken for a ripe tomato because my head was boiling with shame. She was doing it on purpose, I was sure. "You ... I think ... Ha ... Yes, I ..." It was the brilliant sentence I could utter as I gazed nervously at the candy on the platter in front of me. I heard her muffled laughter as she still stared at me. "You're lucky to have a desk between us. Every time you blush, I have an almost uncontrollable urge to hold you until I suffocate you. She smiled carefree.Seeing Lauren so comfortable in this way was good because it made me think there was nothing to worry about. And then, she was just a cute fool who loved to tease me. No uncomfortable situations, no moments of unpleasant silence. It was just the two of us. No problems. "I'm still going to find a way to embarrass you too, sweetheart." "Well, as long as you do not tell my mother that I'm good in bed ..." I let out a muffled laugh, concentrating to make my face stop burning. I tried to change the subject, hoping it would happen soon enough. "You have to pack your bags." - Ah yes. By the way, I forgot to ask you something: Do you have a passport? I did not have a passport. How the hell had not I remembered that? I did not have to say anything, my expression said everything for me. So that was it: For another stupidity of mine, now Lauren would travel alone to London and I would spend Christmas there, away from her. "I did not think so." She answered my unspoken response, with a calm that only made me more nervous. "Well, good thing I'm rich. I looked at her confused, still devastated. - We're going on a private plane. The flight is at 10:00 pm, no one will ask for your passport. I stared at her with wide eyes, not knowing what to say. "How many people did you have to bribe for?" - None. The plane is mine. From that moment, I gave up talking to Lauren. She would always surprise me in some way and leave me beastly-if it were not for her personality, it would be for her power-so I just let her guide us for the rest of the day. *** I used more makeup than I was used to, which did not mean much: Just a discreet eyeliner in the eyes and a soft blush. The leather jacket on me seemed to dazzle her, making her repeat more than five times-and making me blush in all of them-how beautiful I looked. She repeated my dessert twice, while she packed her bag. Lauren did not seem to care what clothes she would take, putting the first few pieces in her closet. It was the first time we'd been together in that apartment without doing anything about sex. I was nervous, and she seemed to notice it, so she respected my space and my anxiety, sometimes asking me if everything was okay, and repeating sometimes that "soon we are going. "I tried not to notice anything around me, because that would make me have some sense of time. I thought about taking some tranquilizer to relax, but I remembered that I did not have any in the bag, and it was out of the question to ask for a pill. In fact, I had turned off using the familiar autopilot. I was in a state of coma, and in what seemed like the next minute, we were already in an open, dimly lit field, a small plane standing in front of us and our suitcases being carried by two men I had never seen in my life. "Good evening, Mrs. Jauregui. Good night, Miss. I raised my head and smiled a nervous smile at the man. - Good night, Rick. We are ready? - Whenever you want. The night was cold. The wind was icy, being more intense in that wide open field area. I crossed my arms over my chest, tightening my jacket on my body, and lowered my head. I felt an arm going down my back and a firm hand on my waist. As I well knew who she belonged to, I let her guide me.I climbed the stairs that connected the asphalt to the door of the plane, feeling my nervousness increase with each step stepped. Finally my ears stopped hearing the loud noise of the strong wind, indicating that I was now inside our means of transport. I raised my head and noticed that it was in a small but quite luxurious and bright setting, where everything from floor to furniture seemed to derive from ivory, beige and caramel tones. I turned back, trying to make sure I was not alone. I found Lauren near the entrance talking to the man who, it seemed, would be our pilot, and what looked like a kind of co-pilot. They babbled things I did not pay attention to. I turned my eyes to the light environment, with eight armchairs in four pairs (which seemed to be more comfortable than all the beds I've ever had in my life), a small backroom surrounded by mirrors and an open door that, I could see, it was a corridor that connected us with the rest of the plane. I stared at it with an expression that I knew was incredulous. At that moment, I felt two hands full of fingers close at my waist and a body lean against mine from behind, while a husky, beautiful voice spoke at the foot of my ear. "You've never been on a plane, have you?" I shook my head, still a bit overwhelmed by all that. "It's possible that the flight is a bit troubled by the strong wind." But turbulence is normal, no need to be afraid. Rick is an extremely competent pilot. I would worry about being afraid later. For the moment, she was still dazzled by it all. - Come on, we'll take off. Lauren pulled me into one of the huge, ivory-colored chairs, so I sat down by the tiny window as she sat next to me. I watched her put on her belt and repeated her act mechanically, so I waited. "It's very beautiful here." "As soon as we can get up, I'll show you the rest of the place." She said, smiling simply at me as she brought her left hand up to my right leg and left it there. Without thinking, I closed my eyes and covered his skin with mine leaning back in the chair, just letting me feel the contact between us. The plane started to walk. A short time later he started to run, and then, without any warning, he simply stood up, ceasing the contact of the wheels with the rough asphalt. I felt a small pressure on my head pull me back, but I did not bother. I looked out the window, watching the night lights move farther apart. Lauren did not stop touching me for a second, sometimes cuddling like a kind of comfort in my thigh. - Ready. "She started after a while, making me wake up from my autistic moment." Come with me.I undid the seat belt that still attached me to the armchair and held the hand she offered me, letting me guide me and show me whatever I wanted. I was introduced in the next room to a room with armchairs, chairs and sofas arranged around a large television. It was a small elegant living room. We passed a narrow bathroom that shared the last room with the next one, a kind of kitchen with thin benches and long closets, with a cooler compartment and a shelf of biscuits and canned goods. Finally in the last room, the hall was divided into four doors, two on each side. - The rooms. Unfortunately, everyone is single. There was a thin bed against the wall. The room was small and cramped but extremely comfortable, clean and tasteful. Taking into account that we were inside a plane, that was the equivalent of a presidential suite of any five-star hotel. "Are you sleeping in the front room?" - I will. I felt a twinge of disappointment, but Lauren did not notice, saying that she would speak to the pilot and that she would be back. I stood there, getting used to that place and accepting the fact that we would sleep apart that night. It was a night when I really needed her with me, because my anxiety grew every minute. Not that she could do much, but only her presence helped calm my nerves. A few hours later, Lauren handed me fluffy pajamas in my sweatpants, and I wondered when she'd picked up my things without my realizing it. Finally he wished me goodnight, asking if I would be all right. I answered yes, knowing that she thought my nervousness was related to the turbulence, not the expectation of meeting her family. I let her believe it, wishing her good night and finally going to bed. An hour passed and I could not sleep. Two hours passed and my eyes were still open, staring at the ceiling as my head kept working in countless hypothetical situations where something always went wrong when I imagined myself meeting Lauren's family. Three hours passed and I heard the door to my room open. She walked in unceremoniously, her eyes swollen, her shirt crumpled, her hair completely messed up. Linda, obviously. Without giving any explanation, she lay on top of me, resting her face on the curvature of my neck as she pulled the duvet to create a cocoon around us. - Do not complain. It's your fault. I can not sleep without you feeling close to me. I smiled wanting her spontaneity. I loved that spontaneity. I hugged her passionately, squeezing her a little closer. Five minutes passed, and I had already fallen asleep. *** London was cold. Colder than Los Angeles. It was the first thing I noticed when stepping off the plane, looking around and noticing that the place we were in was very much like the open asphalt yard where the plane was waiting for us to take off. Lauren looked pleased, looking around with an air of nostalgia that bordered on "nothing like being at home." But she was not from England, at least as far as I knew. Her face looked healthy, rested from the turbulent night on the plane, and I could only ask if she had really slept well for a few minutes when I found her sitting in the armchairs, since when she woke up she was not by my side. The landscape was white, icy and cloudy, but still beautiful. There was a kind of natural haze that made everything a bit more like a dream. I was glad to be wearing a suit that would protect me from the cold because there was snow there. My gloved hands were stuck in the pockets of my warm jacket, and Lauren was almost clinging to me, either because she wanted to warm me up, or because she was losing the notion of space. But obviously, I did not complain. - What time is it? She asked the pilot. - It's a few minutes till 5:00. - 17h? Lauren looked startled. "Have not you been less than eleven hours?" "It must have to do with the time zone. I said without thinking, getting into their conversation. "Ah ... It's obvious. She sounded ashamed for not considering the eight-hour difference between Los Angeles and London.Were those things that made her embarrassed? Lauren definitely did not make sense. A taxi was already waiting for us. After arranging the suitcases in the trunk, we said goodbye to the two men who accompanied us on the trip and sat in the backseat of the car. Lauren dictated the address and so we set out for my nightmare. *** I expected an old stone castle with more than thirty windows and tall trees all over the territory. For some stupid reason, I always related England to the Middle Ages, medieval constructions and things reminiscent of knights and dungeons. So I was surprised when we got to Lauren's parents' house, which looked nothing like the image I had in my head. Although not as large as the buildings I expected to find, the house was large. Huge. Sure, it was a mansion, but not something scandalous, twenty-four-story, swimming pool, volleyball court, and ponies strolling around. The house was wide. It had two floors and a beautiful, huge, flowerless garden because of the season. The building was in the classic style, in an extremely nice and clean peach tone and white details. The sky was already beginning to show signs of the night coming, so it was possible to see through the large windows that some lights were already lit inside. Lauren pressed a hand lightly on my back to make me walk. The suitcases were left by the taxi driver on the porch, and the race was already paid for. I shuddered. Not from the cold, but from the anxiety. We climbed the steps that led up to the large white door of carved wood. I prayed silently not to have a reception full of eyes on me, but the imposing appearance of that door made me think that the bell would be at least something like a church bell. And then we would have a reception worthy of a princess: Princess Lauren and her nosy escort. I saw her tug on the pocket of her overcoat and take something out of it. "Let's see if they changed the lock." She has the key! Thank God! We entered the wide and warm reception hall, Lauren comfy and I tiptoeed. She seemed to notice my discomfort, then slammed the door gently, quietly, and finally walked to the right. I followed her without saying anything, fearing that, along with the first word, my heart would be spat as well. Lauren walked toward a door deeper, but before she could reach it, a cheerful, beautiful voice sounded from within. - Someone's here! Even before we could reach her, she left the kitchen with a hopeful expression. As she looked at Lauren, her face lit up in a way that made me feel happy myself. Calmly, she hugged Lauren who hugged her back. I would not believe that woman was Lauren's mother, simply because she seemed to be too young. But looking at her incredibly beautiful features, there was no doubt about it: They were almost exactly the same perfect features of the woman I loved. Light skin light brown eyes bordering the green. - Honey! I miss you! - Hi Mom. How have you been? - As always. She smiled, but her expression suddenly became a little more serious, though discreet. His hands were still around her body.- How are you? - I am fine. - Same? She asked, her expression now showing an unmistakable maternal concern. - Same. She replied simply, and then nodded to where I was. The woman seemed to notice the rest of the house for the first time since she had seen Lauren there. His eyes focused directly on mine, and then I felt the muscles of my face relax, returning to a serious and anxious expression. Only then did I realize that I had been smiling all the time. She looked at me for some time, probably less than it seemed in my head, without doing or saying anything. When she finally realized there was a stranger in her house, her face slowly widened into a beautiful smile. So genuine that I wanted to repay him. Her reactions were good to me. - Mom, this is Camila. Camz, my mother, Clara. She let go of the daughter's embrace, coming to meet me. So that was where Lauren had taken off so much beauty. "Welcome, Camila. Clara gave me a kiss on the cheek, an affectionate kiss, and a tight hug. I retaliated by reflex, because she had taken me by surprise. - Camila. Your name is beautiful. - Thanks. I smiled, glancing quickly at Lauren, and the expression of contentment on her face, I knew it was red-again. "Lo, why did not you tell her you were coming along?" I looked at Lauren with a murderous look. Had not she informed her parents that she would take me along? Did she have shit on her head? "I'm sorry, I did not know she did not ..." I started, a little desperate, but Clara tried to reassure me with her naturally gentle manner. - Do not worry honey. Believe me, I'm so glad you're here. I only said that because I could have prepared a better supper. - It's a lie. There is no way to improve. Lauren interrupted in amusement, wearing that crooked smile that often resulted in my death, but I still wanted to punch her. - I agree. Said a voice at our side, and then I saw a white man a little tall and rather chubby go to her, squeezing her in some kind of bear hug. '' How have you been, daughter? "Steady and strong, Papa. - Is what it seems. Clara cleared her throat beside me, and then I remembered she was there. Not only that, but now he was in a very straight posture, with his left arm entwined to my right. When had she done that? - Well, we have visitors! Mr. Jauregui looked at me for the first time, certainly wondering who the skinny girl would be with his beautiful wife. His eyes were very intense, but it was when he smiled, a splendid smile, that I lost the thread of thought. It was Lauren's crooked smile. My crooked smile. "And who am I having the pleasure to meet?" He spoke very gently, gently holding my hand between his. - Camila. Lauren spoke behind her. - Or Mila. - I told you. - Nice to meet you, Mila. I heard Lauren snort. - My name is Michael. I'm such a grumpy father back here. I hope you enjoy our Christmas. - I'm enjoying it. I spoke openly. "I think you guys want a shower and some rest from the trip." Clara said, undoing the knot in our arms as she walked to the front door. "We're not tired. We came on my plane, we slept at night. - Because? You do not usually do that ... "Michael began, but Lauren was quick on the lie. - Airports in the United States are closing all the time because of bad weather. I thought it best not to risk it. I looked back, looking for Clara, who instructed an employee to take our bags to some place on the second floor. "But I liked the idea of bathing." Which rooms are still vacant? "I heard her talk to her father. - All. You were the first to arrive. - Let's go. Clara drew our attention to the bottom of the stairs. I followed Lauren when she went to join her mother, and the three of us climbed the steps together while Michael stood by the kitchen. "The bed is already made." She said as she pushed open the door to one of the bedrooms and held it open for us to enter. The room was large and dark, all of it in a wood tone. The walls were wine-colored, the lamps emitting a yellowish light, giving a warmer air to the place, the cabinets in mahogany. The bed was gigantic, even larger than the one Lauren had in her apartment, and the blankets looked incredibly soft. The window was large, but it was covered by blinds. The floor was also dark, and suddenly I felt incredibly warm - even warm.- Liked? Lauren asked me, pulling me out of my reverie. - I will stay here? - Yes, with me. This is the idea. I looked at her, silently asking her to understand me. She did not understand. I turned to Clara, who was still smiling behind us. - Mrs. Jauregui ... - Please, call me Clara. I feel less old. - She laughed. "Clara, I can stay in another room. - What? I heard Lauren exclaim behind me. "I do not want to disrespect you, it was horrible to come to your house without being announced ... I did not know how far the moral customs of the family of Lauren went, but I knew I did not want to cross the border at all. It was clear that Clara did not believe that her daughter was a virgin, but it was one thing to know that she did whatever she wanted at her house. It was another thing to force the bar under its own roof. - What are you talking about? - Lauren intruded, indignant - You're sleeping with me! I shot her with her eyes. "Honey, do not worry. There's no problem with that. "I really do not want to look like ..." I began. "Why do not you want to sleep with me?" "Lauren, that's not it!" I said, a little irritated. "Children, calm down. I looked at her again, ignoring Lauren and her incredible inability to understand me. "Mila, I give you my word that everything is fine. You'd better sleep here, because the other vacant room would have to have the bedding changed. Besides, I think Lauren would have a syncope. We both looked at her, which seemed a little hurt. "Okay," I said, a bit reluctantly. "Well, I'm going downstairs to see the plates for supper." Mila, make yourself at home. Clara smiled cordially, closing the door behind her and leaving Lauren and me alone in the huge room. I sat up in bed, taking off my jacket and taking a deep breath. - What was that? - She started. "You really can not understand?" "Do you think my mother is a nun?" "I just did not want to look-" "Did not you want to look like my girlfriend?" I was silent for a few seconds. Was that what I was? I had never thought of titles in our relationship, but that was not the point at the time. "I did not want to disrespect your parents." "And how exactly would you do that?" Taking away my virtue? "Do not be ironic. "I'm ironic when I'm angry. "And why exactly are you angry?" "Because you wanted to sleep away from me!" "I just wish your parents did not think I was a bitch!" Lauren froze at my words. I imagined she would answer something, but all she did for a long time was to stand there, staring at me with an indecipherable expression. Only after a long time did she speak again. "Your idea of morality is very misrepresented. Maybe she was right. But if that was the case, we both knew why. "No matter what I think. It matters what your family ... "" My mother became pregnant with Christopher at the age of fifteen. She and my father had to anticipate the marriage because of it. Do you think she's a bitch? - Oh my God, of course not! "And you still think someone here would find you a bitch?" "I ... No." "Great. I shut up, looking sadly at my hands. I thought about apologizing, but I realized that I had done nothing wrong besides being silly. Maybe I was really exaggerating. - I'm coming! Stop with promiscuity! Before I could understand where the unfamiliar voice came from, the bedroom door opened wide and showed a man I did not know. He was tall a little muscled. And his skin was clear.And, of course, handsome. "Well, it's not my sister's shoe!" He shouted, grinning from ear to ear, opening his arms to Lauren and crushing her in an effusive hug. "Well, if he is not the genius of the family!" - Fuck off. He answered, punching Lauren in the arm and laughing. Finally he looked at me, and then I feared for my life. "I did not believe when Mom said you were with her." Who in this world would hold you? "Camz, this is Christopher. My oldest brother. Chris ... - Camz, you unlucky one! He concluded. - Her name is Camila. Chris seemed to ignore her, walking up to me with a murderous look, and then I wished for everything in the world that he would not hold me the way Lauren had embraced. Luckily, he seemed to have notion, so he just greeted me with two kisses on the cheek. - Then. What was the crime that you committed to have to put up with it? "Not really. I answered, laughing at his good humor. "I chose it of my own free will. - Lauren, stop drugging her. "Christopher, leave your sister alone!" I heard Clara's voice echo downstairs. "Why does Mom think you hate me?" Chris asked, looking at his sister. - Because I told her. Both laughed at the joke, and then I felt a huge complicity between them. "I'm going to take a shower and go down to help the Jauregui's. Camila, nice to meet you. - Equally. I answered sincerely. Again, we were alone in the room. "I think we should go down and help your parents, too." I said, trying to use a casual tone in my voice and make our little discussion forget. "Are you going to take a shower now?" "You can go ahead. I nodded, getting up and going to my suitcase, to pick out a suitable outfit for Christmas Eve. - I have something to give you. I wish you wore it tonight. She was already opening her own suitcase and pulling out a bag. I felt discreetly excited about getting her a Christmas present, without even caring what exactly she had given me. I took the package from his hands and opened it carefully. As I unfolded the cloth, a black dress with short straps hung from my hands. The dress was fair, but it was far from vulgar. It was not too fancy, but elegant, and I was glad Lauren did not ask me to use something that made me uncomfortable in front of her family. Later I would repay the gift.- It's beautiful. I finished, looking at her. She smiled, a little sad. I imagined that I was still upset by the recent discussion, and I wished that it would soon pass. I did not like to see her that way. Trying to act naturally, I approached her with the piece in my hands, and I gently laid a seal on the corner of her lips. - Thanks. She closed her eyes, seeming to savor the moment that had passed. - You're welcome. I saw his mouth curl into a discreet smile, so I was sure we were fine again. *** I left the bathroom already dressed, ready to see Lauren's reaction, but she was not there. The clothes in her suitcase looked a little freaked out, so I figured she'd gone to bathe in one of the several toilets scattered around that house. I combed my hair and wiggled a little on the wires randomly with my fingers, trying to make them more rebellious, full and wavy. I picked up my old makeup box and chose some appropriate colors for the occasion. I finished the production by squirt a little spray fixative on the hair, a kind of laquê. On my face I opted for a thin black line with a dark eyeliner, a lightly silvery shade very discreet, a blush that seemed to match my skin tone and colorless gloss, not exaggerating the color of my lips. I looked down at my neck and noticed some light marks that stood there, though old. I passed thin layers of the bruise cream, and then I put on a golden necklace to cover them. I put on a pair of high-heeled gold shoes and I put on earrings too, I looked in the mirror. I figured she was pretty. Really beautiful, and even a little seductive. For the first time, I did not feel out of place to be in the middle of Lauren's family and all that annoying beauty. For the first time, I felt her height. I threw everything back into the suitcase and turned, ready to go looking for the missing, but I was scared to see her there, standing by the door open like a ghost wearing a fair white dress, wearing a makeup that beautifully highlighted her eyes, he also wore a black heel. Her hair was smooth, a little rebellious, but perfect as always. "For God's sake, make some noise when you get there." She continued to stare at me, her expression resembling a lemur, and then, after a scare, I wanted to laugh. "The dress was perfect. Thanks. I said, trying to get her out of her catatonic state. - I am seeing. I was beautiful, and I felt pretty good about it. But seeing that expression on Lauren was priceless. - How did you get the measurements right? - I know your body. Oh, yes, she knew it very well. I remembered 'study' nights, and I shivered every time they popped into my head. But I did not know she knew this well. "Lauren, you want to come soon and help ... Wow, Camila! It was a family thing to appear as magic. Like Lauren, Chris also had this craze. "Christopher, are you drooling at my girlfriend?" - Of course not. I'm just making it clear that she looks very pretty. "Thank you, Chris. - Thank you, flattered. "You know, you're big, but I have a baseball bat. Lauren spoke calmly and psychotically, but I noticed she was joking. - Okay, lady Othello Syndrome. Stop being a worthless daughter and come help your parents with supper. Chris left the room, down the stairs and leaving us in the same positions. Lauren kept looking at me with a dangerous expression on her face, and then I figured one of us would have to talk first. - Well, shall we? I walked toward the exit, but by the time I would cross the threshold into the hall, she pushed the door in front of me, locking me inside the room.I looked at her feeling a certain cold in the belly. - Can I do something? It depends on what you want to do. - You can. She grabbed me possessively, almost desperately, leaning my back against the now closed door and kissing me furiously. I felt his tongue force the entrance of my lips, so all I could do was open them to give way to her. His hands were pulling me closer, my fingers already tousling the rebellious strands of his hair even more. She grabbed me, shamelessly, lifting me off the ground and forcing my back even more against the door. I linked my legs to her waist, already feeling the bar of the dress stop at the height of my belly button. I felt a stiff overhang against my panties, and I knew it was coming from inside her dress. I kissed her in despair, clutching at her neck and leaving a blistering heat to take hold of my body, which shook wildly. - LAUREN, YOUR WASTE! "I swear to God I'm going to kill Chris ..." she began, parting our tongues and panting against my lips. I smiled against his mouth, already feeling my soaked panties and the urge to be eaten right there at that moment. But her brother was right: The least we could do was help with the preparations for Christmas. I sighed against his face, undoing the lace that bound my legs to his hips and stepping back to the floor. - Let's go down. Just wash your face first. It has gloss all over your face. She sighed in frustration, then walked to the bathroom. A few minutes later, long enough for her to be more 'calm,' we stepped into the gigantic kitchen, with a huge 'U' counter and several lockers along the walls. We found Clara and Michael bent over some plate in the oven. Chris was moving his cell phone, sitting at the table."Why did you yell for me to come down and help if you're not fucking yourself?" Lauren started, slapping her brother's head. "You know I suck at those things." You're the girl who cooks. "Could you speak less words, please?" Clara asked, rolling her eyes. "Mom, it's your fault for giving birth to this idiot. Chris finished. "She's not an idiot!" - I said, entering the game. - There is! Lauren exclaimed triumphantly. "They're both idiots, and I'm going to break your ass if they do not respect the people here!" We all turned to the kitchen door, and then I had the vision of a beautiful girl, her light brown hair, and a smile from ear to ear. - Daughter! Clara exclaimed in a low shriek. The girl jumped up to her and Michael, all happy, and hugged them willingly. - Sorry for the delay! We missed the flight. Weeeeeeee! He turned to Lauren, hugging her and squeezing her tightly. She returned the hug, giving a long, loving kiss on the top of her head. "Taytay." Chris spread his arms and she was dancing slyly to his meeting. They hugged each other and then she looked at me, addressing me the word. - You are young! My name is Taylor, I'm the sister of these pests here! - Taylor, this is Camila. Lauren said. - Nice to meet you, Camilinha. She squeezed me into a hug. - I can call you that, right? - I also think. Chris commented. "Chris, I'm going to fuck you!" - OLIVER, WHAT ARE YOU? Taylor screamed suddenly, giving me a scare, and I laughed. "Trying to bring your four suitcases in, love." A dark-haired man with a gray-eyed, mysterious air joined us in the kitchen, looking at Taylor as if he wanted to shoot her. "As I was saying, Lauren." Chris raised his voice to make it clear. "I think every Frenchman is a little boiola."Chris, what's with your guts about homosexuals?" Taylor pinned it. "Dear brother-in-law, I will not respond to your height because your muscle mass is much greater than mine. After speaking to all the Jauregui's, Oliver came up to me. - Honey, this is Camilinha. She's Lo's girlfriend. Taylor hastened to say. - Much pleasure. My name is Oliver, and despite the calumnies you've heard about my sexuality, I'm Taylor's husband. I squeezed his hand cordially, trying to get some accent in his speech, but finding nothing. "Mother, let's take a shower and pack. We're off to help you guys. The pair came out of our sight - Oliver hard as a stone being carried by the hand by Taylor jumping like a gazelle - and I hastened to approach Clara and Michael. "Can I help with anything?" "No need, honey. It's all pretty much done. - Are you sure? No detail ... - Mama, Camz knows how to make a spectacular dessert. Lauren interrupted me, and I blushed. "You really do not have to work for nothing, my dear. "It's not work!" - I said it at once - I like to cook. - Fuck, you deserve it. Chris said, getting up from his chair and going into the living room. Clara took the ingredients I needed and then I repeated the recipe prepared the day before in Lauren's apartment. Michael asked leave to leave, joining Chris in the large living room. Clara seemed very interested in the preparation of my dessert, so I explained everything in the smallest detail so that she could decorate. When the oven whistled with one of the supper dishes inside, it moved away from me. I was crumbling the sighs when I felt the light breath on my neck. "I'm going to talk to my father about some business-related matters." Are you going to be okay here? - I will. I sighed, already feeling the skin of my neck creep with the approach. She felt it too, and the next moment she kissed gently on the shivering place, then walked away and left me alone in the kitchen with Clara. It was not long before Taylor arrived again, now wearing a short blue dress with frills matching with very delicate sandals. She was all about a butterfly. "Taylor, do you have something to say?" Clara asked simply as she watered the shank with pineapple sauce. "Mother, your exaggerated perception spoils all my surprises. "Well, you do not need to talk now. I just wanted to know if I really had anything. "You know you do. I watched them talk, and wondered if Clara and Taylor had any kind of telepathy communication. My dessert was brought to the refrigerator, and so I went to help Taylor with the cutlery, glasses, and plates. She was arranging the large dining room table on one side while I imitated her from the other. After all the magnificent dishes adorned the entire length of the table, Clara went to inform the rest of the Jauregui's that the Christmas dinner was ready, and seconds later everyone was already sitting in their seats. I sat down in front of Lauren, in the seats in the middle of the table. Dinner was quiet and fun, being stuffed by several of Chris's tales about random subjects. At every word, Clara rebuked him. Taylor called him a troglodyte, and Lauren just laughed. Everyone seemed to enjoy my dessert, and in the end I had to recite the recipe for Taylor as well. The family talked among themselves, so I learned a little about each of the members of the Jauregui family. Michael was the powerful kingpin. The companies scattered around the world were his, and maybe that was what helped give that air of power to him. He built his family with Clara in the United States, and when everyone was well-bred and well-off, he decided to move to England. Chris moved to Germany, being responsible for the main branch of his father's company there. Taylor had met Oliver in the United States at the age of eighteen, and two years later, when she married him, she moved to her husband's home country, playing in France the same role as Chris.Lauren, as I already knew, had stayed in Los Angeles. Clara was the housewife who had to deal with the pressure of being Mrs. Jauregui, even without understanding anything of publicity at all. They were a normal family, happy and beautiful. Suddenly, even though I felt a bit out of place to be there, unbalancing the perfect balance they all had with each other, it felt like being part of that family was easy. I liked them all. Without exception When everyone was satisfied, the dining room was empty, while the living room filled with Jauregui's. I applied to clear the table and do the dishes, but Lauren practically carried me on the shoulders and made me sit on the couch next to her in the other room. Michael filled small glasses with mint liqueur, but Taylor and I vehemently denied the offer. - We have wine. Would you like? - Lauren asked deliberately, laughing at my face and making me blush with the memory of the last time I accepted the drink. "No." I looked at her, wanting to pinch her. "I'm fine, thank you." "So ..." Chris said loudly, wanting to get everyone's attention. "I've discovered fucking things related to fields outside the electromagnetic spectrum ..." "It's not possible. - Taylor interrupted - Speaking the truth, you are doing searches in the random pages of Wikipedia, right? Chris looked at her as if she were an undernourished opossum. - Ignorant girl, I'm studying this. - Do you study electromagnetism in German? "I did not hold back, and by the time I knew it, I had stopped them. - Cool huh? Chris finished, a giant smile on his lips. - Is not cool. "No one understands what you say," Taylor said, amused. Chris cursed her, and Clara suppressed him again. Lauren came close to my ear while her two brothers verbally assaulted. - Christopher has considerably above average IQ. If you want to see him pissed, call him a genius. It's funny, we do it when we want to get you out of it. "Dear sister, I dare you to say something more interesting. "Ah, defy me, eh?" Taylor suddenly gained an unmistakable expression of victory, rising from the chair and tidying the dress, as if about to make a statement. And it was. - I have a statement to make. She paused, a sincere smile taking her face slowly. "I'm pregnant. After a few minutes of a lot of mess, the spirits calmed down in the living room. Michael was glowing, his wonderful smile illuminating the whole house. Clara's face was swollen with tears of emotion, and Chris was happy as a child. Lauren still looked a little shocked, but she could not stop laughing. "At last a brat in this family!" Chris said, laughing at his own sense of humor. "Do not call my son a brat, you idiot!" Taylor said, punching him hard in the arm, but not being able to hurt him. - Come on, Lauren! Our little sister telling you to see! It is much faster than you! "And looking at me," she concluded, "Mila, are you sure she's not a bitch?" "You're the eldest, you asshole. Lauren defended herself. "I do not have a girlfriend, you slow. - Shut up! "Do not ruin my moment!" - Congratulations, Taytay! You're going to be an excellent mother. Clara said, still excited. "And you a great father, Oliver!" "I think it deserves a celebration." Michael said, over his voice to the others. - Whiskey! In less than a minute, there was a pretty bottle with a little dark liquid in it, and a few large, low glasses on the small table. I noticed that Clara had left the room and then returned with a box of orange juice in one hand and in the other a bottle of red wine. At the end, we toasted four glasses full of whiskey, one for Clara and two for juice, one for Taylor who could not drink and another for me, who could not let me get drunk. "Hey ..." She came close to me, trying to speak softly so I could only hear. "Mind if I drink tonight? Chris heard his sister's question and mimicked the sound of a whip with his mouth. I ignored it. - Of course not! You have to celebrate! I said, a little more lively than I thought I'd get the news. And she drank. Not just her, like Michael, Chris and Oliver. Clara reminded everyone of the gift exchange, since, after all, it was Christmas.Still, no one was interested in that part of the night. All attention was focused on Taylor, Oliver, and their novelty. Therefore, I felt more comfortable when the family presented itself quickly and soon the subject returned to be the new heir Jauregui. "How many months, TayTay?" Lauren asked, and I was already beginning to notice the most drawn words coming out of her mouth. - Two. I can even know the sex of the baby. - It has to be a man! - Chris said, excited - Of woman in this family is already enough mama, you and Lauren. "Have you any idea names?" I asked. "Ashley if you're a woman, Jackson if you're a man." Oliver announced. "Was it planned?" How did you find out? How did you tell Oliver? Clara was chatty, perhaps because of the wine. Everyone was amused by asking random questions to Taylor, sometimes repeated. Every time I looked at Lauren, she had a new dose of Whiskey in her hand, and that started to worry me. Still, I did not say anything, because I did not want to ruin anyone's celebration. And she would be aunt. That was great. The conversation went from one subject to another, but it always ended up returning to the pregnancy. Michael was playing around with the idea of being a grandfather, Chris was ironically more serious as he became more drunk, and Lauren kept ringing me. Thank God, his touches were not inappropriate. "So, Camille..." Taylor began, a little sullen with the endless questions they asked her. "What do you do?" I felt a bump inside me, imagining that perhaps my heart had fallen. I held my breath, trying to reason and give an answer in time to make no one there notice my panic. - She's a librarian. Lauren was drunk, that was clear. Still, she could be quicker and smarter than me, even in the lies she told. - Like to read? Oliver asked as he poured himself another shot of Whiskey. Yeah. I was still shaken by being caught off guard. I wondered why Lauren and I did not practice some of these dialogues before the trip. It was obvious that his family would want to know more about me, even to make sure I was not going to ruin the life of one of the members. "And how did you two meet?" It was Clara's turn to ask, and then I was officially starting to have a panic attack. - Hahahahaha, do you really want to know how we met? Lauren asked in a very loud voice, and that made me shudder even more. She was drunk, and I did not know how far her notion would go. "Well, I'll tell you. She settled on the couch, and Clara seemed interested in the story to come. I gripped his arm in panic. I knew it was red, not shame but desperate. - Lo ... - I spoke low, my mouth very close to her - You are a little changed ... - Do not want me to tell the story? She said loudly, and they all heard, "Why, you do not need to be ashamed, my beautiful one! It's so beautiful ... She touched my face, and I understood that it was no use: She was going to tell her story. What exactly would she say, I did not know. I took a deep breath once.Twice. I looked at Taylor, trying to hold back the panic that slowly consumed me. I was surprised to see her staring at me with a strange expression. She had noticed that there was something very wrong there. "I've met Camz you've known for a few months. She was sitting in a square near my house, reading. It was raining a lot, and I ran back to protect myself. I saw it penetrating the reading, and as the simple image of it caught my attention, I went to meet it. I sat beside her and we talked. I was glad she did not give me off so easy. And then, I fell in love with her that day. I was not breathing, paying attention to every word she said. When she was silent, I noticed that absolutely nothing I had said was a lie. That was the day she really knew me, that she really talked about my life and came to know that she was already part of it. The Camilla she had met before that day was not the same as Camila now. only Camila now mattered. But then, it had been that day that she- "" And so you asked her in courtship? " Clara asked, still smiling at the story and pulling me out of my reverie. "No. Then we became friends, but I could not stop thinking about her. So my life turned to hell because I tried to pull away ... "And here, Lauren stopped, staring sheepishly at the glass in her hands and sighing." And I found I could not be without her. Everyone was silent. Taylor was still looking from me to Lauren in a weird way. At least I could breathe. Oliver did not look at anyone in particular, and Clara stared at Lauren with a pitying expression. "Good." Chris's voice cut the silence. "In the end, you've gotten caught up. The balance was positive then. Michael laughed, making Clara relax a little too. Taylor looked away from me, and I was beginning to fear her. "So you're the new family maid, Mila. I looked at Oliver in amazement. Why had he said that? "I'm not ... I'm not with her because of this ..." Oliver looked at him a little irritably. "Make your jokes with those who already know you." "Sweetheart, Oliver has a slightly icy sense of humor. He was just joking. Sometimes it's hard to notice. Clara hastened to say, as I felt my face boil. Only then did he seem to understand that his '' joke '' had not turned out as planned. - Yeah, it's a joke! I only said that because, until then, the self-interest was me. But I was joking, I know you're not. - Wow, she's a giant tomato. - I heard Chris say. - I'm sorry, it was just a joke! Oliver repeated, already looking a bit desperate. "All right," I said in a low voice, and I prayed that they would stop looking at me. Lauren stood up, staggering slightly when she did. - Let's go to sleep. She said, holding out my hand, which I grabbed without thinking. I wanted to get out of there, wanted to get out of everyone's sight. "Mama, was there anything left of the candy Camz made?" I remembered the idea she'd had about that dessert when we were in her apartment in Los Angeles, and wondered if it was possible to turn redder than it was now. "No daughter. I ate the last bit, if I knew you wanted to- "" Do not worry, Mom. - Taylor said, with a sarcastic smile on his face, getting up too and looking at Lauren, as if they kept a conversation by telepathy - She just wanted to smear Mila with that syrup. That pervert. "Taylor, do not be weird. Oliver said. But Taylor was not being weird. How the hell did she know that? Lauren laughed and said a good night out loud, pulling me behind her. I said goodbye to each of the people who remained in the room, and then we were at the bottom of the stairs. I thought she would have trouble with that obstacle, but I was wrong.Although Lauren was clearly drunk, it was not that bad. She opened the bedroom door and let me in first, locking her in the next. It was 1:45 in the morning. I sat up in bed, trying to make up for everything that had happened in the last few minutes. I sighed deeply, feeling life come back to my veins now that I was alone there with Lauren. I looked at her and she seemed focused on some inner battle. His eyes were closed, his face serious and austere. She could even say that she was about to make a vital statement for the whole of England. So when she opened her mouth, I had to laugh. - I need to pee. She headed for the bathroom, a little awkwardly, as she took her heels along the way and lifted her dress up to her belly button. I kept looking at where she was. I smiled again. I remembered what was hidden in my purse, so I stood up against her and took her gift from there. She returned to the room without the dress, wearing only a top and a boxer, eyes out of focus and hair, as always, disheveled. I sighed. "I have something for you." I started, not knowing how to do that. She looked at me curiously. - For me? - IS. A Christmas present. And saying that, I handed it to her. Lauren's expression slowly turned into a knowing smile. At the end of her metamorphosis, she was so beautiful and seemed so happy that for very little I did not lay on her lap and filled her with kisses. It was as if she were a child and I had just given her a candy store. "You bought me a present?" Wow!! She looked really surprised, opening up the packaging anyway, and taking the box with the watch inside. Seeing what it was, his smile got even wider. - Wow! - She repeated this a lot - It's too much! - Liked? I studied his expression in the hope of finding traces of lies there. But all her reactions seemed genuine. - Very! She said, and suddenly I looked at her arm and noticed for the first time that night a wonderful watch, much more interesting and apparently much more expensive than the one I had bought for her. I even remembered once seeing the hours on that same watch: the day I had woken up in her room for the first time. I quelled on time. How the hell had I ever noticed that she was already wearing a fucking wristwatch? How had I not remembered? How did I not see it that night? I was an amoeba, and I felt like a seven-year-old giving a 'stupid' drawing with a gouache and a watercolor pen. - Wow. That expression, before making me feel good, was already pissing me off. She had no reason to stay that way. It was a stupid idea. - How did it get? She left her wrist sample, now with the watch I had given. - The other one got better. I said, bitter and bitchy. - Of course not! This is much more interesting! - It is not. Do not lie. - I'm not lying! I liked very much! "Whatever ..." I said quietly, taking the torn package, kneading it all in anger and forming a ball of papers in my hands. I turned to throw all that in the trash, but I was surprised by a hug, and then the next thing I was aware of was Lauren's face tucked into my neck as her arms held me close to her body, crisscrossed on my back and not allowing myself to leave. - Thanks. You have no idea how much I liked it. I returned the hug, feeling his heavy breath on my neck. I remembered Ally telling me that no matter what I gave Lauren, she would. Almost immediately, I remembered my birthday, when mere bookmarks had given me an unexplainable joy, and then I understood that if Lauren were feeling the same way I was that day, that moment would probably be in fact precious. - You're welcome. I answered quietly, returning the hug and feeling the already known waves of electricity between my body and hers. We stayed that way for a while, so I realized that if I delayed a little longer, she would end up sleeping on my shoulder because of her drunken state.I pulled away from her and pulled out the comforter that covered the bed. "You'll wake up with a little headache tomorrow, so enjoy it while you sleep." I said, stuffing the pillow and pointing at the sheets. - Comes. She walked to her suitcase without paying attention to me and pulled out of there something small that fit into the closed palm of her hand. Without a word, he guided me around the waist to the edge of the bed, making me sit there. - It's my turn. "You already gave me your gift." I reminded her, wondering more about what she forgot when she drank. - I did not give. - I'm wearing it. I lifted my wrist, patiently showing the fabric of the black dress. - This is not my gift. She sighed. Her fingers moved a little trembling through her hair, staring at me mysteriously. Lauren looked nervous, and I could see this even with the various doses of Whiskey that made her look sleepy. - It's all right? I asked, getting a little more annoyed every second she was silent. - It's all right. She said, kneeling down in front of me on the rug on the side of the bed and looking at me with some kind of veneration. I did not know why, but the way she acted was making me anxious. "I wanted to know how to do this soberly ..." She began. "But I think it would require courage that I do not have. I'm sorry if this does not come out the way I wanted it, or the way you wanted it, but I need to say I love you. The sound of those words made any noise disappear. It was as if the only person that existed was her, as if the only sounds that mattered were her breathing and her voice, as if the only sensations of the world were her skin in mine and the waves that crashed in the short space between us. Her eyes were not unfocused, which proved she knew what she was saying. And I could only hear. "I know we were together a few days ago, but it was long enough for you to notice that I am an idiot and that I notice that you are perfect. Lauren opened the hand that hid a small navy blue box. I stared at it, trying not to think about what it might be before she opened it. "I do not know the terms that define our relationship, but I know I need you. I do not think I have the right to give titles to what exists between us, but- "The box opened, showing a thin, golden ring set in the diagonal. - One thing for you ... Remember me. It's up to you to call this a request for dating, engagement, marriage, it does not matter. As long as you accept. She gripped the small wedding band between her fingers and wrapped my right hand gently, bringing it against the rim. - But what I'm really asking for here is ... Stay with me forever? The ring slid through the ring and fit perfectly into the thickness of that finger. She pulled her hands away from mine, and we both stared at my newest prop. "I promise ..." She looked into my eyes again, and I stared back at her. "I promise to try every day to do as well as you do to me. And I promise to try to make sure you do not regret being mine. Something hot ran down my two cheeks, but I did not care. "Even though you deserve someone better," she added, wiping my face. "But no one will admire you as much as I do." No one will want you as much as I want, and I'm pretty sure you will not do as well to the other person as you do to me. She probably had something else to say. Unfortunately, my body acted on its own accord, and then I had thrown myself into it unceremoniously, falling to the floor on the rug and kissing it unconsciously. My ring was hot. Maybe it was psychological. It did not matter. I was hers, with or without a ring, but having her there was a test. It proved that I was important. He proved that she wanted me to be hers, and in the same way, she proved that she was mine too. Now I knew I was crying compulsively. So much so that she sobbed. Lauren, though drunk, seemed to understand that it was a "yes, I'm yours and always was," and then I felt completely surrendered to her already-working hands in my dress, not desperately but carefully. I did not remember the bed.The rug seemed enough to ease the friction of our bodies with the floor. It was neither cold nor hot. It was perfect. She kissed me passionately as she possessed me, putting aside caution and squeezing me against her body possessively. I was hers, and she knew it. I could not tell if my moans were loud. I'd leave it to worry the next day, as well as the bites and hickeys that Lauren randomly applied by stretching my body. I figured I'd need more makeup than ever, but since that would not change in any way, I allowed myself to enjoy all the sensations of that moment. The weariness came, but it did not make the desire that consumed me go away at once. It seemed to burn in the same way, so part of the night we rolled and docked, trying at the same time to feel and provide pleasure to each other. When we both seemed satisfied, I let sleep crush me, feeling the warmth of her skin warm me. Sometime that night I woke up suddenly and found that I was lying comfortably in the big bed next to an angel. She did not sleep, but she watched me with more passion than I had ever seen in anyone. I raised my right hand to check if my gift was still there. As if I needed to make sure it was not a dream. Relaxed. The golden ring was there. And if it were up to me, I would be there forever. *** Light. It was much brighter than I could expect in the middle of the night. It was possible to notice this still with closed eyes. I opened them lazily, only to see, to my utter surprise, that it was already dawning, though my perception judged that not an hour had passed since I fell asleep. I blinked a few times. A timid morgue entered the room through the crack of the open curtain, directly in my left eye. I turned abruptly aside, not thinking where I was or what time it should be. Next to me was a woman on her stomach, her face turned to the other side, apparently naked as far as the sheet covered her. It was a beautiful, fit body, but something bothered me there. Something I had not noticed at first. I did not know those backs. They were different from the back I expected to find that morning. The hair was not the same either. It was wavy, but brown. The reason came slowly, and it was with her that the woman began to move. It was when she finally turned to me that I got up immediately, almost falling off the bed. I noticed that I was also naked."What the fuck ..." My heart was pounding. I did not understand anything, and looked around trying to locate me. That room was not the room I'd expected to find that morning either, simply because it was not the same room I had slept in. It was not the Jauregui's house suite. But I knew that place. It was a place with grimy, dirty walls. They needed a painting. By my side, a broken tv, some clothes on top of her. The '' bedroom '' in question divided the space with a kitchen through a bench. There was only one lamp hanging from the ceiling without a chandelier. My bags were scattered on the floor on the right wall, and like a crack inside me, I was able to locate myself. The apartment. The apartment I used to live in. It was not Lauren's house or her parents. Nor was it The Hills. It was the place I had gone between these two moments. Despair. I scratched my eyes, trying to see better. Everything seemed very blurry. The unknown woman was still facedown on the sofa bed, looking at me as if looking at any circus animal. "No." I spoke out loud. Once, twice, over and over again. "No, no ... That's not ... I had a shortness of breath. An agonizing pain compressed my chest as if to crush him. - NOT! IT WAS NOT A DREAM, FUCK! More shortness of breath. My body began to tremble wildly, ridiculously, trying to stand. I reached for my cell phone and reached for her number, trying to fight the shaking and press the right keys. Was not there. "Please, no ..." I cried in despair. I looked around, not knowing what to do. That could not be happening. - A scandalous whore. You picked your finger, Vero. The woman spoke to herself, and I felt a thud in my stomach. I leaned against the wall and tried to breathe. My throat felt closed. Beside the couch, two bottles of something alcoholic and notes of money. "For God's sake ..." I spoke to myself. He did not know whether to shout or beg. The fight against the panic that had dominated me was coming to an end. I looked at my right hand. There was no ring there. Like an outbreak of madness, I pinched myself. I knocked, scratched and punched every bit of skin I could remember, desperate to prove to myself that this was a nightmare. My God, it could only be a nightmare! "Will you be quiet or do you want me to gag you?" The woman looked at me in amusement, showing me and wrapping a piece of cloth with her hands. I sobbed, letting myself slip down the wall and fall to the floor. No strength, no life. Nothing. ***
