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She giggled. “But it meant a lot to me…it lets me know she loved me…at least once, at some point.” She said sadly as she walked back towards the window and glared out of it. 

 

“You know, I honestly think Secret really believes you’re not her mother…” I said trying not to sound cruel.

 

She snapped her head up and her eyes darted at me. She looked like she wanted to hurt me.

 

“…I mean…you don’t look or act like the mother she knows. She’s even said herself…she doesn’t remember what you even look like…maybe with this picture, you could jog her memory…let her know it’s really you and that you love her.” I said with a weak smile. I was trying to be serious without seeming like an asshole.

 

“…Miguel, I don’t think that will wor--.” She started to say.

 

“Trust me…it will work.” I said with a smile as I handed the drawing back to her. She smiled at me and went to put the picture back in her bag. We both stood in the hallway. “You want me to show you around some more?” I asked.

 

“No, thanks. I think I’ll just take a shower and maybe go to bed. It’s late.” She said smiling.

 

“Well, alright…I’ll do the same.” I said with a smile.

 

“Oh, you can go ahead first, since it’s your house.” She offered.

 

“No, its ok…I have a bathroom in my room.” I answered laughing.

 

“Really, another one, where?” she asked. 

 

“The door that looks like a closet by my TV. I have three, there’s one downstairs next to the living room.” I said.

 

"Alright then.” She said as she backed up a bit. “Yea…um…oh, the towels are in the closet here.” I said pointing to the small closet in the bathroom.

 

“Oh, thanks.” She said.

 

There was a small awkward silence. “Well, goodnight.” She said nervously with a smile.

 

“Goodnight.” I said as kissed her on the cheek. I froze as I realized what I did. We both just looked at each other. “…I…I’m sorry…” I said as I backed away a bit.

 

“No, it’s…ok.” She said. She backed away into her room.

 

“Goodnight Miguel.” She said as she got behind the door and slowly closed it.

 

Tamar:

 

Wow that was awkward…but I liked it. I should have refused to come over. It’s just weird you know? First, we were yelling at each other…then, we were kissing each other and now, we’re living with each other. Love-hate. I turned the shower on, and got my body wash out of my bag. I heard Miguel turn his shower on and we both walked into the hall at the same time.

 

“I…was um...just… going downstairs…” he said as he nervously ran down the stairs.

 

I went back into the room to get my purple satin robe, and then I went and took my shower. The water felt amazing. It was warm and smooth against my skin. The steam made the air feel so fresh. When I got out, I dried off and put my green lace bra and panties on. Then I slipped my purple silk robe on, got my clothes and body wash and went back to the room. As I closed the door, I heard Miguel open his and go downstairs.

 

Miguel:

 

I need a drink. I’ve had a long day…a very long day. I deserve it. I had just gotten out of the shower and instead of changing clothes, I just wrapped a towel around my waist and headed toward the kitchen to treat myself to a glass of wine. That’s how bad I wanted it. I honestly deserve it, in my opinion. I got a wine glass out of the cabinet and popped open a bottle of red wine. I poured in the normal amount…then a little more…just a bit more…fuck it, I’m filling the glass up.

 

The flavor of it was indescribable… made directly from my father’s vineyard. It was smooth and rich down my throat. I had just remembered that I left my lotion in the mirror in the hall way bathroom. I drank a little more and then trotted upstairs to get it. I flicked on the light, grabbed the lotion out of the mirror and rubbed it in on my arms. After that, I put some on my legs and when I bent over I noticed a pair of turquoise panties on the floor by the vent.




Chapter Four: Lost Feelings

Tamar:

 

I put some lotion on and spayed a tiny bit of perfume. I gathered my clothes that I had just taken off and made sure I had everything. Damn…where’s my panties? I scuffled around looking for them and didn’t find them. I must have left them in the bathroom. I loosely tied up my robe and walked out of the room. When I went into the bathroom, I stopped in the doorway…just in time to see Miguel…examining them. What the hell? He turned around and had a surprised look on his face.

 

“This is…not…what it looks like.” He said as he put both hands into the air. The panties were in his right hand…which he quickly hid behind his back as he looked down.

 

“Um…those are mine...” I said pointing to them. He pulled them from behind his back and looked at them nervously.

 

“I know…they smell really nice.” He said as he handed them over. “…They’re dirty…” I said just looking at him.

 

“…I knew that….” he said starring at them.

 

He kept starring. I hid them in my hands. Then his eyes fixed on something else and he froze. He looked surprised.

 

“Miguel…?” I called. “Miguel….um…” I said looking down and then up at him. “Guelly.” I said trying to get his attention. There’s a name I haven’t used in a while. I finally got his attention, and he looked at me.

 

“Um…y…your towel…it's slipping.” I said looking away. Too late, the towel dropped and I had already turned back around. “Jesus…” I said as I just starred at it. “Oh, shit!” he said as he quickly picked up and wrapped the towel back around him. It fell again.

 

“Don’t look!” he scolded.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to!” I said as I quickly turned around.

 

“You kept looking!” he said embarrassed.

 

 â€śI thought you fixed it already!” I said as I covered my eyes and walked out of the bathroom into the hall.

 

“Ok…now I fixed it.” he said. I turned around to see him finally dressed but he stared at me. “What?” I asked curiously.

 

He pointed slightly at me. My robe was open, revealing just my underwear.

 

“Oh, damn.” I said as I quickly squeezed it closed and tied it tightly.

 

We just looked at each other. Why did I spend the night? I must admit though…he looked pretty damn sexy.

 

“Goodnight…again…” he said as he slowly walked backwards into his room with a smile.

 

“Goodnight.” I said softly as I walked back to my room.

 

That was very awkward…but I liked it. It’s about 2:30 A.M. now and I still can’t sleep. I wonder if Miguel is still up. I got out of bed and tip toed into the hallway. I walked past his bedroom and he wasn’t in there. I went down stairs into the kitchen for a glass of water. I hand washed the glass and dried it instead of putting it in the dishwasher. I quietly walked up the stairs and saw some light creep out from an extra room.

 

I tiptoed over and peeked inside. Miguel was standing in front of a canvas board, painting. The radio was playing soft Spanish music. The CD playing was by Prince Royce. I could tell because Miguel used to sing his songs to me when we started dating, especially the song “Addicted”.

 

“Tu y yo.” Was playing at the moment and I could hear Miguel singing along. He has a good voice…I love his accent…especially when he speaks Spanish.

 

“Did I wake you? I could turn the radio down…” he said softly without even looking my way.

 

“No…y…you didn’t wake me…how’d you know I was standing he---.” I tried finishing.

 

“I heard you come out of you room. Besides, I know you…you never slept well.” He replied without taking his eyes off the painting.

 

“May I come in?” I asked softly. I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to, he looked like he was in the zone.

 

“…Si…” he answered quietly.

 

“Are you alright?” I asked. He froze and sat down in front of his painting. He examined it and then got up to wash excess paint off his hands. The canvas had a painting of a baby girl on it. She was lying down in a crib asleep and was covered with a pink fleece blanket. The baby was Secret. It looked so real, she looked like she would wake up and start crying any minute. I wanted to pick her up and hold her so bad. I feel terrible that I missed all her baby years…I’ve never even rocked her to sleep.

 

Not when she needed anything…not when she was hurt….not even when she just needed to be loved. I wasn’t there.

 

“It’s beautiful.” I complimented as he walked back into the room.

 

“She’s beautiful.” He said softly as he wiped the paint off his hands on a towel.

 

It was quiet for a moment. I didn’t know what else to say. Miguel put the towel on the table next to him, leaned against it while folding his arms and looked at me. I didn’t return the glare. I continued to stare at the painting. I wanted to cry…but I know it’s too late for tears.

 

“You’ve really changed…” he said checking me out.

 

I finally looked at him and back to the painting.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked curiously.

 

“Well, look at you…it’s like you’ve killed her and then brought her back…” he said sarcastically.

 

“…Killed who?” I asked stubbornly already knowing which route this conversation was going.

 

“…The Tamar I used to know…the one I fell in love with.” he said softly looking at me.

 

I caught his stare and quickly avoided it. “Tamar…” he said sternly.

 

“Your work is fantastic.” I complimented.

 

“…Thank you…Tamar we need to tal---.” He tried to say.

 

“I see why she loves art…she gets it from you.” I interrupted.

 

“Why me?” he asked letting me get off topic.

 

“Well, I can’t draw or paint.” I said shamefully.

 

“Who says you can’t?” he asked.

 

“I say, I mean…I do.” I said looking at him and then down. I walked around looking at his paintings and pictures.

 

“You can draw.” He stated.

 

“I can’t, really.” I said.

 

“Yes, you can.”

 

“I assure you, I can’t draw.” I said sassily as I walked towards a familiar painting hidden between the wall and table. I picked it up and starred at it. It was unfinished. Miguel quickly took it from me and put it back.

 

“Miguel…Is that…a painting of my panties?” I asked surprised.

 

“Um…can you draw a line?” he asked trying to change the subject.

 

A slight “I know what you were doing” smile went across my face. “Yea, I can.” I said allowing him to lead me off topic.

 

“Then you can draw.” He said while setting up a new canvas board.

 

“Whatever.” I said in a smart alec voice

 

. I walked up to a painting of a flower on it, it was beautiful.

 

“You must really love art.” I assumed.

 

“It’s my life.” He said softly.

 

He walked past me towards the table and took a large sip from his wine glass. The wine bottle was half empty. I saw it earlier

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