Page 54 of What She Wants

“You said you love Esme. Oh,hijo…”

Damn, I’m in love with Esme Delgado, my wife. Who knew all I had to do was marry her for that to happen?

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Esme

The vibe is off when I get to the house much like his radio silence. I don’t know what crawled up his ass but what plans could we have had that would pop up at the last minute? As a major event planner, I know major events are planned months in advance. It’s dark outside but there are a few lights on inside our home. Just in case, I pull out my phone.

Me: Hey. Did you plan any special events for Marín?

Sister K: No, his foundation has their own event coordinator.

Me: FOUNDATION?!

Sister K: Yeah, they had an event Friday night.

Me: Of course they did. On a scale of 1 to 10 how upset would you expect him to be since I wasn’t there?

Sister K: Without knowing the details…15. You and your friends posted on social media and the news here mentioned your absence not in a tabloid way, it was one sentence but that’s enough. People are probably ride of your previous bad press and swear you’re selfish. We know you’re not just square things with your husband.

Me: He didn’t tell me anything outside of “we have plans” until I was heading out to the airport. I had no idea it was something like this.

Sister K: If you square things with your husband that’s all that matters. People will make up stuff even with the truth in front of them.

I want to cry because I’ve fought so hard against all the lies that make me look irresponsible and classless just to do something to seemingly confirm that. I look like an asshole over a simple breakdown of communication.

Carlos Santana blasts when I enter. A new song has started and I even recognize the famous guitar riffs ofBlack Magic Woman. I didn't see him at first but soon figured out where he’d be. Every now and then he’ll go out on the patio and smoke a cigar.

I find him and our eyes meet the moment Carlos suggests that his woman is trying to pull the devil out of him. If this were any other time, this scene would be sex. Marin is shirtless and barefoot. His slacks are open. He’s low in the chair, manspreading as he takes a puff of the cigar without taking his eyes off me.

He looks damn good and I missed him even though I cut the trip short because he wasn’t responding to me. I left Friday and am back Sunday evening but the time apart felt like a year. I know the reason without thinking too hard.

He gets up without speaking and walks past me, showing me that I never wanted his silence, not even in the beginning of all of this.

We’d rested after the pool party but then that next week he’d taken me on a date of some sort every night explaining that he wanted to make up for all the ones I felt I missed. And each night he’d make love to me because he was free for the week. I’d gotten used to having all of his time where I felt some kind of way when he had to go back to business as usual.

I wasn’t being spiteful when I left. It was a trip I planned before I got a fake fiance that I soon couldn’t shake. I made sure to go so I’d continue to have interests outside of him so I wouldn’t turn into one of those spouses who are mad that their husband did important work. And it totally backfired.

Deciding to give him a moment, I opt to go take a shower in a different bathroom. Knowing my husband that’s what he went to do when he disappeared and if his attitude is anything like mine, he needs a moment before we speak.

The shower soothed my nerves a little but I didn’t like the riff hanging between us. If he’s still not willing to talk, I’m going to have to force the conversation like I know he’d do with me.

I hold my robe tightly as I make it to the master bedroom. I look around for a moment remembering how he’d surprised me with the paintings that we picked on what he calls our first date. Every single one of them hangs somewhere in our house. Of course the more erotic ones are in our room and that’s what I’m focusing on when he appears in nothing but boxer briefs.

“Marín?” He doesn’t respond like I didn’t say his name but I have to assume that if I missed him then he misses me. I have to play it his way and force the argument. “Marín, you should have told me. I can’t read your mind and I’ve told you several times that you’re too bossy.”

His green eyes flash but at least he's paying attention to me. “If you never told me you have a foundation, when was I supposed to learn that?”

“Was it so hard for you to do what I aksed?” He finally growls.

“Yes, when you try to rearrange something I’ve planned at the last minute with no explanation then it’s not fair to expect me to read your mind! Like you never told me why you had such a bad day after Dallas’ barbeque.”

“It was a fucking Bishop matter Esme! There is nothing to tell.”

“Incorrect. That is what you tell me. You don’t think I know that they are the master of secrets. And you have your moments. Most of the things I’ve learned about I’ve heard in passing just like this foundation. Now I’m in the news again!”

He walks closer to me and gets in my face. He smells like soap and mint and all I want to do is cuddle with my husband.

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