Vasílissa mou

6

The cool embrace of the pool water did more than soothe my skin—it was a balm for the boredom gnawing at me. After thirty minutes of silent strokes, I found myself slicing an apple when I caught the unwelcome attention of three men. Their stares were blatant, one gaze laced with hostility. But it was Nuel's sudden fury that sent a jolt through me.

His curt dismissal of the men was met with reluctant nods from all except one—an older man, Samuel, who stepped closer, his hand reaching toward mine. My polite smile felt strained under Nuel's withering glare. The tension between us was thick, almost suffocating.

"We're done here, Samuel," Nuel growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Samuel's amusement was misplaced. "Why so tense, Nuel? Your wife doesn't seem to mind the attention."

The air crackled with unspoken threats. Nuel's forced invitation for a social visit hung heavily in the room until Samuel finally took his leave.

The second the door closed, Nuel's icy rage turned on me. "Seducing my partners? Cover up! You look like a slut."

My jaw tightened. "Excuse me? I didn't know you had visitors, and I certainly don't dress for your approval."

His voice turned ugly. "You're my wife. Act like it. I didn't marry a slut."

The knife I held, meant for the apple, suddenly felt like a weapon. Before I could think, it flew across the room, embedding itself harmlessly above a picture frame. Nuel flinched, his face draining of color.

Ignoring the wide-eyed Samuel, I stormed past, Nuel's hateful words echoing in my ears. What had started as a peaceful day had turned into a volatile mix of anger and humiliation.

At the training facility, the usual camaraderie with the twins was gone, replaced by an uneasy silence. Daniel, the more volatile of the two, wouldn't meet my eyes. David, ever the peacekeeper, tried to break the tension.

"Don't mind him, Andrea," he said, using the name I had insisted on.

"Still mad about yesterday?" I challenged, trying to lighten the mood.

Daniel, ever the pragmatist, scoffed. "We fight with keyboards, not fists, my queen."

"Enough with the titles," I replied, a playful glint in my eye. "Now, get on the mat."

Daniel smirked, accepting the challenge. We sparred for a good five minutes, exchanging punches and dodges, until I had him in a headlock. Just as I was about to claim victory, David chimed in.

"See? Forgiving her wouldn't have landed you flat on your back," he teased.

Daniel glared, clearly not pleased with his public defeat.

"For a hacker," I said, catching my breath, "you pack a mean punch."

"High praise, coming from you," he replied with a hint of a smile.

The tension finally eased, replaced by a grudging respect. "We good?" I asked, extending my hand.

He grasped it firmly. "We're good."

David, ever the voice of reason, muttered, "Finally," as I headed for the shower. Nuel's words still stung, but the solidarity with the twins provided a much-needed sense of relief.