Page 70 of My Boss

“It must have been painful,” I respond as gently as I can.

“It was humiliating.” I can see that the memories of his ex-wife stir unwanted feelings in him. I also know that I shouldn’t dwell on this topic, but…

“Not all women cheat on their men,” I respond. I, for one, do not.

“As long as they have no reason to do so.”

“Meaning?”

“That is, Maria, if you are a twenty-nine-year-old healthy woman who dreams of having a baby and your husband can’t give you what you want, you start looking for the kind of man who will fulfill your dreams.”

I freeze. Something is constricting my chest. What a bitch!

“Yours was a real piece of shit,” I state truthfully. “After all, there are different ways to conceive, you don’t have to immediately sleep with another male to have offspring. Since she knew you couldn’t have children…”

“She didn’t know,” he interrupts.

“No?”

“We had been trying for a child for three years. Kamila did all possible tests. I, however, resisted. I didn’t even want to admit that something was wrong with me. Things began to deteriorate between us, although the whole thing was somehow not good from the beginning. Finally, without her knowing it, I decided to undergo a medical examination.” He rubs his face. “Getting the results, and the whole fucked-up conversation with the doctor, was one of the worst experiences of my life. I don’t wish any man to hear such a diagnosis. There isn’t even a minimal chance of me ever having offspring.” A vertical wrinkle splits his forehead. “It was Christmas Eve. After the visit, I came home, totally shattered. Kamila, on the other hand, was beaming, bustling around the kitchen, singing damn carols under her breath. The whole house smelled of mushrooms, fried carp, cabbage with peas, cake… And I felt like throwing all that food out the window, along with the Christmas tree and everything else. But I restrained myself. I wasn’t going to confess the truth to my wife that day that we could never have children together. So I pretended that everything was fine.” He goes back to his memories. A muscle twitches on his clenched jaw. “After dinner, Kamila handed me a gift that had been lying under theChristmas tree since the morning. A small box in which I would most likely have found a watch or cufflinks. Only it was neither. They were baby socks. For the baby my wife had made for herself with… someone else.”

Jan lowers his head and runs his hands through his hair. He doesn’t need to say anything more. He has already said a lot anyway; for him, it’s more than a lot. I prefer not to think how much this confession cost him, how he felt when he unwrapped that gift.

God Almighty, Jan.

My heart shatters, and simultaneously, somewhere inside, extreme rage builds up at this slimy cunt who has hurt MY JAN so much. My insides start to boil.

What a piece of scum that ex-wife was of his! Not only did she cheat on him, but she wanted to force a baby on him that wasn’t his. I feel like breaking down that damn elevator door, finding the bitch and rolling her by the hair in cow shit.

But I want to hug Jan even more. Just embrace him tightly, feel his heartbeat and give him at least a little of the tenderness he deserves.

I am so damn sad about what happened to him. I feel such tremendous remorse for dragging him through the mud today that I’m about to cry.

I get up from the floor, walk over to him and sit astride his legs with my arm around him.

Jan gasps, raises his head. There are so many emotions in his eyes that I can’t interpret them.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“I want to hug you.”

He grimaces.

“Don’t do it, Maria.” I hear the deep timbre of his voice.

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t hug me. Don’t take pity on me. Pity is the last thing I want from you.”

I look into his eyes, in which I feel like drowning.

“It’s not pity.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying,” I answer truthfully. “It’s something much more complex.” I bring my lips closer to his mouth and kiss him.

His lips are hot, soft. I desire them so much that I’m about to go crazy. I brush my tongue over them. Jan sits still at first, as if frozen, but after a while he parts his lips and responds to the kiss. With our tongues, we caress each other unhurriedly, tenderly, intoxicated by each other’s closeness. A typhoon swirls in my stomach, and blood boils in my veins. I am overpowered by Jan’s closeness. His mere presence, his breathing, everything that has happened today is messing with my head, taking away my ability to think rationally. I am hot, so devilishly hot. I desire this man, and not just physically. I want him to talk to me, to look at me, to be next to me, tobewith me. I want him to open up to me the way he did a few minutes ago.

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