Page 109 of The One
What do I do if he wants more than a kiss?
God, I want more with him too, so much more. All of it, actually. But I’d be a dead woman if my father found out I’ve lost my virginity before marriage. To him, it’s not only a virtue, it’s a bargaining tool to secure me a husband.
In this day and age it shouldn’t matter anymore, but my world clings fiercely to such outdated traditions, wrapping them in layers of honor and pride that suffocate any hope of freedom.
My father’s crude warning keeps replaying in my head too.“Whatever you do, don’t spread your legs for him. It’s a guaranteed way for him to lose interest. Men like Mateo De Marco love the chase.”
Is that what this is?
A chase?
An amusing challenge with someone completely inexperienced?
The thought leaves a sour taste in my mouth, dulling the excitement Mateo’s gifts had sparked.
No. He’s not like that. Mateo is kind and caring, though it’s hard to reconcile that with his position inla famiglia.
Am I fooling myself?
Probably. When you’ve got a crush on someone, it’s almost impossible to see things clearly, right?
And then there’s his reputation. He’s an unashamed playboy. What could he possibly want with someone insignificant like me?
I wish I could call Isa and tell her all about what happened and get her advice. She doesn’t even know about last night’s ambush and that I came that close to dying.
All of a sudden talking to her is all I can think about. But it’s unlikely she’ll have the phone with her, and if I tried the houseline, it would lead to too many questions from my mother.
And if I really was out of luck, Father might be there and demand a progress report. No, I can’t risk calling the house.
But I’ll try Isa. Maybe she’ll be in her room and hear the phone.
I go to the bedside table and open the drawer. I pick up Isa’s phone and glare at Father’s, my anger about what he wants me to do flaring up anew. It’s like the phone itself is a symbol of everything he’s trying to force on me. All I want to do is smash it against the wall.
My fingers itch to do just that, to throw it and stomp on it, but the fear Father has so effortlessly instilled in us girls resurfaces. I swallow hard, and instead of acting on my impulse, I push the phone deeper into the drawer until it’s completely out of sight, hoping that hiding it will bury the emotions too.
Then my gaze lands on Mateo’s phone. It taunts me. I should send him a message to thank him for his beautiful gifts, but until I can figure out his motivation, I don’t want to start a conversation with him, especially not over messages.
Closing the drawer, I open the message thread with Isa.
Me: Are you there? I NEED to talk with you.
I stare at the screen, watching the ticks confirming it’s been delivered, but they stay stubbornly gray.
Come on, Isa. Be there.
The minutes tick by, but my message remains unread. Dammit!
Now what?
The urge to talk to someone is overwhelming.
I need help to figure out what to do.
Should I cancel on Mateo tonight? But what a shame that would be given the stunning outfit I now have. I want to wear it! That’s my answer, isn’t it?
And I’ve never been to a club. This is my chance to experience things any normal twenty-year-old would. Who knows when I’d get the opportunity again.
I could handle Mateo’s advances, couldn’t I?
