– i can’t believe you did this to me – he says.
-did what? -she asks.
-you know fully well what – he hisses.
-stop it now – she pleads – give it a rest man. it was a month ago.
– just can’t get over the fact of what a slut you are.
she winces at his words. a headache is making its way from the base of her neck. possibly because her energy has run out.
– stop being such a wounded dove. you knew i was a slut since the beginning. that is why i slept with you in the first place.
– yeah but, but i did not think you would sleep around like that.
– i never pretended otherwise. -she says and drinks her espresso wearily. this conversation is definitely getting to her.
– but how could you? how can you open your thighs to other men just like that?
-i opened them for you didn’t i?
-but, you are, you are…
she drags on her cigarette for a really long time, thinking whether she should get out now, and then changes her mind out of some loyalty that catches her by surprise.
-look – she says, choosing her words carefully, – you can’t be jealous over something like that. you are married, i am married and i know you had somebody else after you had me, so stop pretending.
she has said the wrong words.
-i am not pretending -he counters. – i really care for you but you make it so difficult.
-oh yeah? -she asks.- would you leave your wife if i left my husband?
-what has that got to do with anything? i can’t leave my wife, she does not deserve it. what about my children?
-well, you never think of them when you sleep with me, do you? what about my children?
-not my fault their mother can’t keep her legs closed.
-ok, for the last time, you have no right to guard my legs! i have a husband for that. just try to watch your wife’s, ok?
-what is that supposed to mean? she is an honest woman! you are not fit to mention her name, you filthy slut!
he storms out and she watches him go frothing at the mouth. then she picks up the bill, checks it carefully, and lays money on top of it like she has always done before. the waiter comes to collect the bill, and she gets up to leave, then changes her mind, sits down and orders another espresso. what the heck, bring a shot of brandy too.
she whips out her sleek black cell, flips through the very long and mixed list of names who will never be put together in any other place, and chooses one in particular. oh yes, he’ll be perfect. he has already done for free what she now will propose to pay him for. she talks to that man about a job, asks for plenty of pictures and agrees on a price.
then she sips her brandy and is almost sorry for the lover who walked out on her. he will be devastated when the pictures reach him. perhaps she should reconsider her actions, think of his children. then she remembers the look in his eyes, while spitting “honest woman”, everything she neither is nor pretends to be. a honest whore, maybe. yeah, she likes that.
the brandy and coffee finished, she gets up and out of the cafe, possibly to reaffirm her new title. and make her children proud.