What’s wrong? Why are you down there and not in the suite?
Me:
Because I can be.
Cabrón:
Mi alma, I’d prefer you go back upstairs.
Me:
And I’d prefer you leave me alone and forget you ever met me. We don’t always get what we want.
Cabrón:
I always get what I want.
I roll my eyes again. The man is insufferable.
Me:
What are you doing? Other than stalkingwomen?
Cabrón:
Women would suggest there is more than one. There is only you, mi alma. One woman who I’m keeping my eye on.
Me:
What did you do today?
Our conversations always start out with me telling him to fuck off, him not doing what I want, and then they always have a way of turning into something more real. I don’t hate it.Which I hate.
I’ve slept once since he’s been gone, once in an entire week. But he seems to always know when I’m bored, or when I just need something to occupy my mind. The few times I’ve tried to ignore his messages, one of his lackeys has turned up, holding out a phone to me with a pleading look on their face. Like their life depended on me taking that call.
Cabrón:
I bought a house. You’d like it.
Me:
Where is it?
Cabrón:
I’ll show you one day soon. What did you get up to today?
Me:
I baked a cake. You’ll love it. I put extra arsenic in the batter.
Cabrón:
I’d still eat it because you made it.
Me:
That’s really messed up, E.
