My Secret Longing

How it all began

I am Bhavishya, and everything began when I got posted in Brazil for my new job. I was a typical Indian girl - brown-skinned, a little on the short side at 5'3, with an hourglass figure. There was nothing special about me, except being considered a spinster by my entire family. I always felt insecure about my looks. Even my mother never complimented me on my appearance. So, instead of sulking about it, I focused on building my career, and eventually landed the position of Junior Diplomatic Ambassador of India to Brazil.

After five years of hard work, that day marked the beginning of my career. Coming from a middle-class family, I never had the opportunity or resources to travel abroad. So being in Brazil for the first time was both exhilarating and a little nerve-wracking. We had an Indian Embassy and some familiar faces there but being alone on an unknown continent felt strange. I just hoped to adjust to my new surroundings quickly.

Everywhere I turned, it was breathtakingly green and stunning. However, I wasn't able to do much exploring after arriving in Fortaleza. My journey had left me exhausted and jetlagged for a week. Once I recovered, I walked around taking pictures. I was a little worried about the weather because, based on what I knew about Brazil, I assumed it would rain constantly. However, I was proven wrong.

With only one rainstorm since I had arrived in the coastal city, the weather was mostly hot and windy. The Indian Embassy gave me a cute little villa in Fortaleza. It was cozy and more than comfortable.

Despite standing out like a sore thumb among all the luxurious mansions surrounding it, I loved my little villa. It shared an adjoining gate with my immediate neighbor's abominably huge mansion, which gave me a chance to spy on it. With tall roof-length pillars at the entrance, French glass windows, and a pool in the backyard, it redefined luxury on a whole new level. It was like a modern take on an old colonial estate.

However, being a pretty simple person, I was a little intimidated by all the luxury. My utmost requirements in life were a decent place, good food, and a quiet room to read in. So, being surrounded by all that opulence was daunting in the beginning. The only thing that gave me hope was that I was there solely because of my hard work.

As I started my work that day, I was nervous as hell. I waited for my driver to pick me up, unsure if he spoke English. I had basic Portuguese training but I wasn't ready to dust out my language skills on day one.

When I heard the loud horn, I rushed outside. The driver stepped out. "My name is Gabriel. Ma'am, I'll be picking you up from now on."

Relieved to learn that he spoke English, I said, "Nice to meet you, Gabriel; please call me Bhavishya." He nodded. I asked, "How long will it take us to reach the Embassy?"

"It's only a 35-minute drive, Ma'am. We'll be on time, don't worry," he reassured me, sensing my concern.

I smiled, thinking it might take some time to get him to call me Bhavishya instead of Ma'am. Gabriel was in his fifties, of medium height and a little flabby. He had a friendly face, and I liked him right away.

When we arrived, I thanked Gabriel and started toward the building's entrance. Because of the cultural conference that day, the embassy was teeming with dignitaries, with men in suits everywhere I turned. Being from India, it was unusual for me to come across people dressed in suits.

I was passing through the corridors of the embassy, eagerly taking in my surroundings, when I slammed into someone. I felt his solid abs beneath his suit as I leaned on him for support. He helped me regain my balance by steadying me, and only then did I realize where his hands were. My sari had come undone, and his palms caressed my naked waist. He seemed reluctant to let go of my hips, so I quickly drew away from his grip, causing him to snap out of it. It was then that I saw his face.

He was Brazilian and stood over six feet tall. His slicked-back wavy brown hair, with smatterings of grey at his temples, made him look smoking hot rather than old. His sculpted face, accentuated by a sharp nose and warm honey-brown eyes, had me frozen in place. I couldn't help but stare. He was far too attractive, and seeing some eye candy didn't hurt at my advanced age( according to my family) of thirty-one. I suddenly realized I was standing there staring at someone in my workplace on my first day. I quickly pulled on my professional mask.

I extended my hand for a handshake and thanked him for helping me. He took a long look at my hand before shaking it and saying, "You are most welcome. But it is my fault. I slammed into you without looking. I was on the phone."

I said, "You can call me Bhavishya. I'm new to Brazil, and today is my first day, so I didn't pay much attention either," and smiled at him warmly while he looked at me with an inscrutable expression. I had no idea what he was thinking. My terrible lack of experience with men and relationships reared it's ugly head leaving me uncomfortable.

He returned the smile. "That's fantastic, Bhavishya. Hello and welcome to Brazil. I hope it's to your liking." Just as he was about to ask me something, his assistant came over and asked him to be at the conference table. I then excused myself and went to my office to retrieve some files.

I finally found the conference room after wandering around for twenty minutes and entered quickly before the event began. I had a feeling that someone was watching me when I was about to sit next to my boss. I sat in my chair, looked around, and noticed the Brazilian man I had collided with staring at me. He was sitting across from me, his face blank. When I looked at him in confusion, he gave me a warm smile, which I returned, not knowing how to react.

The conference began right away, saving me from my own awkwardness. The way the event unfolded was admirable. I discovered a great deal about Brazilian culture, particularly their cuisine, which reminded me of Indian culture.

I never saw him again after the event. He left the conference in the middle of it. And as I was about to fall asleep that night, I realized I hadn't even asked Mr. Brazil's name. "Maybe if I see him again, I'll definitely ask," I thought before sleep consumed me.