Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 66952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
But when ten minutes pass, then twenty, then thirty and he’s still not here, I start to relax.
That half hour turns into an hour and I take out my book, sit on the bed to read, although I’m so distracted, I just keep re-reading the same passage.
The night grows darker and I get up to go outside, to look at the sea.
From here, I can see down to where we’d sat for dinner. The table’s been cleared, and candles are lit in hurricane jars. Those, combined with the lights inside the pool, makes for a pretty, elegant affect.
I’m about to go back into the bedroom when I hear voices. First a man’s. I think it’s the same man who was here earlier but I only heard him for a split second so I could be wrong. Then I hear a woman’s laughter. A musical sort of laugh that immediately grates on my nerves. It reminds me of my father’s whores.
I’m barefoot so my feet don’t make any sound on the marble floor. I think every floor in this house is marble.
When the voices grow louder, I walk to the French doors, then edge out a little to get a look at who’s here.
I see the top of Stefan’s head first, then the other man. I was right. It’s the same one who was here earlier. They’re drinking their whiskey and laughing at something.
Stefan says something to the woman who must still be inside because I can’t see her, and the two men laugh as a tall, beautiful, elegant and very naked woman walks out onto the patio.
I’m not exactly sure what I feel at seeing her. She casually walks up between the two men and pushes them away with one hand on either of their shoulders, saying something in a low, husky voice before slinking into the pool and gliding across to the other end to come to rest there.
I feel the strangest thing at seeing this.
Jealousy.
And I know I’m so far out of my league, I’m not even in the same universe.
When I turn to the two men, I meet Stefan’s eyes and freeze.
He’s watching me. He was probably watching me watch that woman.
Embarrassed, I blink first. I slip back into my room to hide like a child. Because that’s what I feel like. A child.
What are they doing down there?
I want to close the balcony doors, especially when I hear laugh. Are they laughing at me? But I don’t dare risk him seeing me again and so I remain in the darkness of my borrowed bedroom and hug my arms to myself at the sudden chill I feel.
I’m alone. I know that. I knew I would be before I got here. And it’s not that I mind it. Even at home, I’ve always been alone. I’ve always hidden in some way.
But at least at home when my dad was a jerk, it was still my home.
Here, I’m not wanted. Not welcome.
No, it’s worse than that.
I’m their enemy.
And if I had any idiotic doubt as to how this would go before, Stefan made it perfectly clear after dinner.
I pad into the bathroom to change and brush my teeth. Even though it’s early, I get into the bed and close my eyes, trying hard to block out their talking, their laughter. I turn my back to the balcony doors and squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to hear their little party downstairs.
8
Gabriela
An unfamiliar sound wakes me early the next morning. It’s only five o’clock according to the clock by the bedside.
It takes me a moment to remember where I am, to remember the night and how it took me hours to fall asleep. I wonder if they’re still here. Wonder what they did.
Wonder if the woman slept in Stefan’s bed.
But mostly, I wonder why I care.
A glance at the door tells me he hasn’t been in here, although I swear I can smell his aftershave.
It’s still dark out, and I hear the sound again.
Someone’s swimming.
I push the blanket back and get up, go out to the balcony to peer over it down to the pool and I jump back instantly because it’s him.
It takes me a full minute to get my courage up and look again because he’s naked.
I watch him swim the length of the pool underwater, then come up for air and repeat again and again and again. He’s a strong swimmer. Even from here, I can see how his muscles ripple with each elegant stroke, and I wonder how he doesn’t tire.
When he finally hauls himself up and out of the pool in one smooth motion, I slip out of sight and remain hidden until I hear him on the stairs. I hold my breath, thinking he saw me, and only exhale in relief when the footsteps pass my room and I hear a door open and close.