Just forget that this happened

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” I whisper, sitting up after taking a few minutes to think everything over clearly.

“Uuhhmm, did I do something wrong?” he asks, burdened with the weight of all my stupidity.

“No, no, it’s just that I should be working,” I lie, hoping to convince him, getting up from the bed and starting to look for my clothes on the floor.

“I understand, you don’t have to lie to spare my alpha male ego, I’ll understand if this was better for me than it was for you,” he insists, realizing my trickery.

“No, believe me, you were wonderful, it’s just that this shouldn’t have happened. I’m not like this, I barely know you and... Oh my God, we didn’t even use protection!” I exclaim at the stupidity of my lust.

“Relax, you don’t have anything to fear, I’m not sick...” he starts to say, trying to calm me.

“It’s not just that... It’s better if I go,” I insist, putting on my pants and shirt in any way.

I leave the room, leaving him in tangled sheets. I hear him getting up and struggling to put on his clothes quickly. I grab my bag and leave before he can catch up, signaling a taxi that’s coming from a few houses away and getting in as soon as he leaves the door dressed only in pants. I hurry to give the driver the address, and he speeds off quickly, leaving Dante with his hand extended, ready to open the door.

I’ll never see him again. A man who makes love by giving his soul in every kiss doesn’t deserve to be cheated on like this. I’m not even close to what he wants, what he deserves, and I have to live with that.

҉

My fantasies haven’t stopped, every time I think of him, I relive every caress he gave me, and my body longs to see him again. Maybe I developed some kind of special interest in him, but I always have to remind myself that what his kisses gave me wasn’t love, it was just the product of those perfumes’ drugs.

The days pass slowly when I count the seconds longing to see him, and even though I could use that fragrance that helps me think clearly, I don’t think it’s a good idea to abuse it. I grab my phone and call Belén looking for a quick way out.

I haven’t told her what happened yet, after spending a couple of days on edge due to the possibility of pregnancy, the emergency contraceptive did its job, cleaning my body of any trace of that terrible idea.

The ringtone sounds several times before my friend answers.

“Hey! I was starting to worry that you were sick,” she exclaims as soon as she answers.

“It was... complicated days,” I comment, not wanting to go into details.

“Your little chick hasn’t let you breathe? I knew you’d be on some kind of restorative sexual retreat,” she says, unaware of what happened.

“In fact, I decided not to see him again, we have nothing in common,” I lie, hoping to sound convincing.

“Emma, is everything okay?” she asks cautiously.

“Yes, I swear it was the worst date ever. We talked twice about the weather... and that was it.”

“Oh my God, this is the downside of dating younger guys, you never know what the hell they’re talking about,” she comments casually, thankfully not pressing further.

“Exactly!” I exclaim, closing the topic. “I wanted to ask you if you’re free this weekend, maybe we can go out for a drink or something,” I suggest, hoping she’ll accept and drag me into a binge of drinks that will erase Dante from my mind.

“Of course, you can always count on me if there are drinks involved. What do you have in mind?” she asks happily, although her voice is overshadowed by some knocks on the door.

“Hold on, someone is knocking,” I say, getting up from the swivel chair.

“Sure, let’s arrange it through messages. Kisses,” she responds, ending the call.

“I’m coming!” I shout at the insistence of the knocks.

Disheveled and dressed comfortably, I open the door, ready to send whoever is on the other side to hell if they try to sell me something. As soon as I do, I come face to face with a young delivery man who looks at me horrified.

“Yeah, it’s not a good week, buddy,” I say to him, mentally.

“Package for Emma,” he says, searching inside his backpack.

“I didn’t order anything,” I reply, waiting to find out the details of the delivery.

“I just deliver, I don’t ask questions,” he responds, extending the package towards me.

I take it and he just turns around and walks away. I close the door, turn on the lights, and search for something to open the small box. There’s no label on the outside that would reveal the sender or the contents. As soon as I open it, I discover a card nestled among red and white rose petals.

Emma: I know everything happened very quickly and we didn’t have enough time to get to know each other. I don’t know if you feel the same way, but I can’t stop thinking about you. Give me a chance, get to know me and then decide if I’m worthy of your company. If you’re available, I would like to have dinner with you tonight.