Now and Forever

by Maxwell, Megan

  A man who identifies himself as Henry gets out. He looks at the dog and touches his head. I sign some papers he hands me, and, while he opens the back doors of the van, he says, “Say goodbye, miss. I’m going. And please, take off what he’s got on his neck.”

  “It’s a scarf I made for him. He has a cold.”

  Henry looks at me and insists, “Please, take it off. It’s for the best.”

  I curse. I close my eyes and do as he says. When I have the scarf in my hands, I sigh. What a sad moment. I stare at Susto, who’s looking at me with his big, bulging eyes, and, crouching down, I murmur as I touch his bony head.

  “I’m sorry, darling, but this isn’t my house. If it were, I promise you, nobody could take you away from here.” He puts his wet snout close to my face and gives me a big lick. “They’re going to find you a nice home, a cozy place where they’ll treat you well.”

  I can’t say any more. My tears are streaming down my face. This is like saying goodbye to my cat, Curro, all over again. I give him a kiss on the head, and Henry picks up Susto and puts him in the van. He resists, but Henry is used to doing this, and he handles him. When he closes the doors, he says goodbye and drives off.

  Not moving, I watch the van drive away, and Susto with it. I cover my face with the scarf and cry some more. Everything feels harder in Munich. Flyn won’t make things easy for me, and Eric is sometimes cold as ice.

  When I turn around to go back inside the house, I’m surprised to see Eric standing behind the fence. The darkness keeps me from seeing his eyes, but I know they’re fixed on me. He opens the door for me. I pass by him and don’t say a word.

  “Jude . . .”

  Angry, I turn toward him. “It’s done. Don’t worry. Susto is out of your damned house.”

  “Listen, Jude . . .”

  “No, I don’t want to listen to you. Leave me alone.”

  Without another word, I start walking. He follows me, but we’re silent. When we get to the house, we go in and take off our coats, and he takes me by the hand. Quickly, I pull away and hurry upstairs. I don’t want to talk to him. Upstairs, I run straight into Flyn. The kid looks at me, but I walk past him and into my room, slamming the door. I take off my boots and my wet jeans, and head toward the shower. I’m frozen, and I need some warmth.

  The hot water makes me feel like a person again, but I’m still crying.

  A moan comes from deep inside me as I sob. I’m having a tearful day. I hear the bathroom door open, and, through the screen, I see it’s Eric. For a few minutes, we stare at each other until he walks out of the bathroom and leaves me alone. I’m glad.

  After I get out of the shower, I wrap myself up in a towel and dry my hair. Then I put on my pj’s and get into bed. I’m not hungry. Sleep quickly gets the best of me, and I wake up with a start when I notice someone touching me. It’s Eric.

  “Leave me alone. I want to sleep,” I say. I’m still angry.

  His hands move away from my waist, and I turn over.

  27

  In the morning, Eric is drinking coffee in the kitchen. Flyn is with him, and when I come in, they both look up.

  “Good morning, Jude,” Eric says.

  “Good morning,” I respond.

  I don’t go up to him. I don’t give him a good-morning kiss. Flyn watches us. Simona quickly hands me my coffee, and I smile when I see she’s made me churros. Delighted, I thank her and sit down to eat. The kitchen is quiet as a tomb; I’m normally the one who tries to get a conversation going.

  Eric just looks at me; I’m sure he doesn’t like my attitude, but I don’t care.

  Norbert walks into the kitchen and tells Flyn to hurry up or he’ll be late for school. My phone rings. It’s Marta. I smile, stand up, and walk out of the kitchen. I go upstairs to my room.

  “Hey, crazy girl!” I greet her.

  Marta laughs.

  “How are things going over there?”

  I sigh and look out the window. “Fine. You know how it is, my dear! I feel like killing your brother.”

  Marta laughs again.

  “So, that means everything’s still good.”

  After I talk to her for a while, she agrees to come by and pick me up. She wants me to go with her to do some shopping. When I close my phone and turn around, Eric’s behind me.

  “Are you going to meet my sister?”

  “Yes.”

  I try to walk past him, but Eric reaches out his hand and stops me.

  “Jude . . . are you ever going to talk to me again?”

  “I think I’m talking to you now.”

  He grabs me around the waist.

  “Listen, darling. About what happened yesterday . . .”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “You taught me to talk out our problems. You can’t change your mind now.”

  “Well,” I answer cheekily, “for once, I’m going to be the one who doesn’t want to talk about our problems. I’m sick of it.”

  “Darling, forgive me. Yesterday wasn’t a good day for me and . . .”

  “And you took it out on poor Susto, right? And, by the way, you reminded me yet again this is your house and Flyn is your nephew. Go fuck yourself, Eric!”

  Our eyes clash.

  “Jude, this is your house too . . .”

  “No, sweetie, no. It’s your house. My house is in Spain, a place I never should’ve left.”

  He yanks me close to him. “Stop going down that road, please.”

  “Well then, be quiet, and don’t say another word about what happened yesterday.”

  Tension. You could cut it with a knife. I think about the bike. When he finds out, he’ll really tear me apart, but I just can’t think of a way to dig myself out of this hole. We look at each other.

  “I have to leave on a trip. I was going to tell you yesterday, but . . . ,” my German finally says.

  “You’re going on a trip?”

  “Yes.”

  “When?”

  “Right now.”

  “Where?”

  “I have to go to London. I have to take care of some business, but I’ll be back the day after tomorrow.”

  London. That sets me off. Amanda is in London.

  “Will you be seeing Amanda?” I ask, unable to hold myself back.

  Eric nods, and I slap him and pull away. My jealousy has gotten the better of me. I don’t like that bitch, and I don’t want them to be alone together. Eric pulls me close to him again.

  “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s a business trip. Amanda works for me and . . .”

  “And you play with Amanda too? You behave badly with her on trips sometimes, and this is going to be one of those times, right?”

  “Darling, no . . .”

  But my jealousy is terrible, and I’m not myself. “Oh great! Go have a good time with her. And don’t deny what’s going to happen, because I wasn’t born yesterday. But, hey, no worries! I’ll be waiting for you in your house when you come back.”

  “Jude . . .”

  “What?” I say angrily.

  Eric lays me down on the bed and holds my face in his hands.

  “Why do you think I’m going to do anything with her? Haven’t you realized I love and desire only you?”

  “But she—”

  “But she nothing,” he says, cutting me off. “I have to travel for work, and she works for me. But, darling, that doesn’t mean there’s anything between us. Come with me. Pack a little suitcase and come with me. If you really don’t trust me, fine, but don’t accuse me of things I haven’t done and won’t do.”

  Suddenly, I feel ridiculous. I know Eric wouldn’t lie about something like that.

  “I’m sorry, I . . . ,” I murmur after a deep breath.

  I can’t keep talking. Eric takes my mouth and kisses me. He overwhelms me, and then I’m the one who’s wrapping my arms around him desperately. I don’t want to be angry. I hate it when we can’t communicate.

  I enjoy his kiss an
d hold him against me.

  “Fuck me.”

  Eric stands up and slides shut the latch I put on the door.

  “With pleasure, Miss Flores. Take your clothes off,” he says while he takes off his tie.

  Not wasting time, I undress. When I’m totally naked in front of him, and he’s naked in front of me, he sits on the bed and says, “Come . . .”

  He moves his face toward my mound and kisses it. He rubs his hands over my body and whispers as I move to sit on my haunches above him. With his hands, he spreads me open.

  “You . . . are the only woman I desire.”

  His penis slips into me, and he pushes it in all the way.

  “You . . . are the center of my life.”

  I move, seeking my pleasure, and he gasps.

  “You . . . are the man I love and the man I want to trust.”

  My hips rock back and forth, and then I’m the one gasping. Eric gets up, lays me down on the bed, and, climbing on top of me, penetrates me deeply.

  “You . . . are mine like I’m yours. Don’t doubt me, baby.”

  A strong thrust makes his cock glide all the way to my cervix, and I arch my body.

  “Look at me,” he commands.

  I look at him as he goes deeper and deeper.

  “I could only make love like this to you; you’re the only one I desire. I enjoy playing games with only you.”

  Eric grips me around the waist, presses me against him, and says wonderful, lovely things, and I enjoy them as much as I enjoy what he’s doing to me. For a few minutes, he moves in and out of me, strong . . . fast . . . intense.

  “Tell me you trust me as much as I trust you,” he demands.

  He plunges inside me again and gives me a slap on the ass, waiting for my answer. I look at him. I don’t answer, and he grabs me by the shoulders so his thrusts are even fiercer.

  “Say it!” he demands.

  “I trust you . . . yes . . . I trust you,” I say, going out of my mind.

  A wolfish smile spreads across his face; he holds me around the waist and lifts me up. He handles me however he wants. I adore it! He pins me against the wall and thrusts inside me boldly again and again while I wrap my legs around his waist and arch my body to receive him.

  Oh yes, yes, yes!

  My moans are muffled when I bite into his shoulder as I reach my climax, and then and only then does he let himself go. Naked and sweaty, we stay wrapped in each other’s arms, still leaning against the wall. I love Eric. I love him with all my heart.

  “I love you, Jude . . . ,” he says, lowering me to the floor. “Please, don’t doubt it, darling.”

  Five minutes later, we’re in the shower. He makes love to me there again. We’re insatiable.

  When Eric leaves, I wave goodbye. I trust him. I want to trust him. I know how important I am in his life, and I’m sure he won’t let me down.

  Marta comes to pick me up a while later, and we disappear into Munich traffic.

  We arrive at an elegant store and once inside, I see the store belongs to Anita, Marta’s friend who was with us at the Cuban bar. We choose a few dresses, the prettiest and most expensive ones, and walk over to the spacious and well-lit changing room.

  “I have to buy something sexy for dinner the day after tomorrow,” she whispers.

  “You’re having dinner with a guy?”

  “Yes,” Marta says, laughing.

  “Look at that! And who’s your date?”

  Amused, Marta looks at me and murmurs, “Arthur.”

  “Arthur? The hot server?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wow, great!” I say.

  “I decided to follow your advice and give him a chance. Maybe it’ll work out, maybe not, but, hey, you can never say I didn’t try!”

  “Olé, girl!” I exclaim, happy for her.

  She tries on several dresses and decides on an electric blue one. Marta looks amazing in it. Suddenly, a voice draws my attention. Where have I heard that voice before? I walk out of the changing room, and I’m left speechless. A few feet away, just standing there talking to another woman, is the person I’ve wanted to slap in the face for months: Betta. My blood boils, and my thirst for vengeance takes hold.

  Unable to contain my most murderous impulses, I go up to her, grab her by the arm, and pull her to face me.

  “Hey there, Rebeca! Or should I call you Betta?”

  She goes white as paper, and her friend goes even whiter. She wasn’t expecting to see me here, and even less for me to react like this. I may be small, but I’m a bruiser, and this idiot is about to find out who I am. When she sees what’s happening, Anita rushes toward us, but, unwilling to let go of my prey, I push her into a changing room.

  “I need to talk to her. Would you give us a moment?”

  I close the changing room door, and Betta looks at me, clearly horrified. She has no way out. Without another word, I give her a slap that spins her head around.

  “That’s so you’ll learn, and this,” I say, giving her another openhanded slap, “is because you haven’t learned yet.”

  Betta screams. Anita screams. Betta’s friend screams. They all scream and bang on the door, and, ready to give this bitch what she deserves, I twist her arm and shove her against the wall.

  “I’m not an aggressive person, but when people are that way with me, I’m the worst. And I’m sorry, sweetie, but you have awakened the monster in me.”

  “Let me go . . . Let me go; you’re hurting me,” Betta screams from the floor.

  “Hurting you?” I repeat sarcastically. “This isn’t hurting you, you nasty bitch! This is just a warning not to mess with me. You had an advantage last time. You knew who I was, but I didn’t know you. You played dirty, and, like a fool, I didn’t see you coming. But don’t mess with me again, and if you do, be ready for payback.”

  Marta, frightened by the screams, comes up to bang on the door with the rest of them. She doesn’t understand what’s going on. She doesn’t understand why I’m acting this way. That throws me off, and before letting go of Betta, I whisper, “Let this be the last time you come anywhere near Eric or me, because I swear, if you do it again, you’ll get more than a warning. Remember that.”

  That said, I let her go, and she falls flat on the floor. I open the door and walk out. Marta looks at me, horrified. Then she sees Betta and understands everything, and just when Betta’s getting up, Marta walks up to her with all her anger intact and gives her a slap of her own.

  “That’s for my brother, you bitch!”

  At that moment, Anita stops asking for explanations and figures out what Marta is talking about. Betta’s friend, horrified, helps her up.

  “Call the police, please.”

  “Why?” Anita asks indifferently.

  “These women attacked Rebeca. Didn’t you see?”

  Anita shakes her head no.

  “I’m sorry, but I didn’t see anything. I just saw a rat on the floor.”

  Feeling tough, I lean on the doorframe. Betta is dazed; she doesn’t know what to do, and she finally takes her friend by the arm.

  “Let’s go,” she says.

  Once they’re out of the store, Anita and Marta look at me.

  “I’m sorry. Forgive me, girls, but I had to do it. That woman has given Eric and me a lot of problems, and when I saw her, I couldn’t help myself. My anger got the better of me, and I, I . . .”

  Anita nods.

  “Don’t be sorry,” says Marta. “She deserved it, that dirty pig.”

  When we leave the store, we decide to go to a bar and have some beers. We need to. The encounter with Betta was something I never expected, and it’s thrown us off a little. When we manage to relax, Marta tells me about her date.

  “The day after tomorrow is Valentine’s Day?”

  “Yes,” Marta says. “Didn’t you know?”

  “Well, no . . . I’ve got so many things on my mind that I honestly forgot. Even though, well, knowing your brother, I’m sure he won�
�t care too much about a day like that either. If he forgot about Epiphany, I can’t even imagine what he’d think about a day as romantic and consumerist as Valentine’s Day.”

  “Girl, he told you up front he’d be getting back from his trip that day.”

  “Yes, but he didn’t mention our doing anything special. Although not long ago I suggested we add a padlock to the lovers’ bridge, and he said yes.”

  “Eric? Mr. Grumpy said yes to putting on a love lock?”

  “He did,” I confirm, laughing. “I mentioned it was something that had caught my attention, and he said whenever I wanted, we could go put one up of our own. But he hasn’t mentioned it again.”

  After incredulous laughs from both of us, Marta whispers, “Honestly, I’ve never seen my brother as much of a romantic. And, as far as I can remember, when he was with that pig Betta, I never heard about them doing anything special on Valentine’s Day.”

  Mentioning her sets us off again.

  “I imagine you got like that because of something more than what that bitch did to my brother, right?” Marta inquires.

  “Yes.”

  “Can you tell me?”

  My mind starts going a hundred miles a minute. I can’t tell her the truth about what happened with Betta. She doesn’t know about our sexual games.

  “She stuck her nose into our relationship in Spain, and your brother and I argued and broke up.”

  “My brother broke up with you over that horrible bitch?” Marta asks, openmouthed.

  “Well . . . it’s kind of complicated.”

  “He wanted to get back with her? Because if that’s true, I’ll kill him!”

  “No . . . that wasn’t it. It was because of a misunderstanding caused by she-who-shall-not-be-named, and he believed her more than he did me.”

  “I can’t believe it. Is my brother an idiot?”

  “Yes, and an asshole too.”

  We both laugh and opt to put an end to the conversation and have something to eat instead. Eric calls to tell me he’s arrived in London, and I decide against telling him what happened with Betta. It’s for the best, at least for now. I can’t fathom his reaction from so far away, and I fear he’d never understand.

  28

  After dinner, Marta leaves me at Eric’s house. Simona tells me Flyn is doing his homework in the playroom and she’s going to the supermarket with Norbert. She’s taped today’s episode of Emerald Madness, and we’ll watch it later. I agree, go up to my room, and change. I put on a T-shirt and gray cotton pants, perfect for sitting around at home, and decide to go see how the boy is doing.