Читать книгу The Confessions Of A Concubine - Roberta Mezzabarba - Страница 10

6

Small steps

With small steps I walked towards horizons forbidden even just to my imagination.

All the fears that Filippo would find me out dwindled day after day, drowned in our lives like poor devils, in every absent glance, in every click on that damn remote control.

Even his fits of anger, his words of accusation, his derogatory statements in my regard, did not hurt me so much anymore.

Every day that passed I was becoming more confident that I would be able to take what little happiness I deserved.

Pietro caressed me with his eyes in the long hours of work, whether I was among the shelves,

or if I was called to his office, and in doing so he unequivocally gave me to understand that the kiss we had exchanged, could, indeed should have a sequel.

One Friday evening, I had almost finished entering the suppliers’ invoices that had arrived during the week into the accounting management program. There were a lot of them.

All the other colleagues had left.

The manager came to the door of the office to say goodbye.

Pietro was putting on his jacket, and was about to leave.

"Miss Mysia, have you finished entering the invoices? Good, that means I can work on it tomorrow morning... Pietro will you wait until Mysia has finished? I don't like her being alone in here. I have to run. Have a good evening guys."

Pietro nodded yes, taking off his jacket again.

The door was closed.

We were alone.

I panicked at the mere thought.

Try as I might to concentrate on the work my head was in flames and my hands were shaking.

He sat down opposite me, his legs crossed, his arms folded, his big, dark eyes fixed on me, and his lips posed in a smile.

I couldn’t breathe, and there was a weight pressing on my chest.

"You want to kiss me, right?"

"..."

"Right?"

He was already on his feet with one hand resting on the desk and the other busy stroking me under my chin, the flesh yielding and quivering.

Nose to nose, with my eyes fixed in his, I felt his lips brush mine softly, like a touch of butterfly wings,.

He was so delicate, unhurried, as if we had all the time in the world.

"You wanted it too, baby, didn't you? I felt it, you know?"

I was unable to say a word.

Now we were standing and he was holding me in his arms, with my face pressed to his chest.

In the silence he caressed my hair, kissed me on the nape of the neck, made me feel as if I were the center of the universe.

And I wanted to weep.

I was clasped in the arms of what I had wanted so long.

And I didn't have him.

He could never be mine.

Unless a very small part perhaps.

But at that moment it didn’t matter: the only important thing was having Pietro a few inches from me.

He helped me finish entering the invoices, and at the door of the office we said goodbye.

With my cheeks red with excitement, I ran

happily towards the bus that was waiting for me under a lamppost of the space used as a station.

As if I were in a trance I sat down on a seat, still feeling his touch.

His perfume had stayed on my hands: the road ran quickly by, I closed my eyes and breathed him in from the palms of my hands.