Fatefully Yours

by Misha Anderson

  "Anahí, can you listen for a moment? Promise not to interrupt me?" I nod and he scratches his chin, gesturing tensely. "I didn't know you were a virgin and I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with my advances. Let's say, I just wanted...I wanted you, little cabocla, but if you don't want me, I understand. Fuck! You're a beautiful young woman, and I'm sure there are tons of guys after you. And they probably can walk, right? They can take you out for dinners, dancing, make love, kids, fuck! You will make a wonderful mother, and I'm stuck in this chair waiting for fate's good will that the recovery will work, but even if it does, I'll never be able to do the things a normal man can, like running in the beach with you, little cabocla. So, you don't need to resign and break the contract. I promise to leave you alone. It took a while, but I know understand this is a fucking delusion. I'm not a man, not for you, not for anyone. If you can help me get back on my feet, or at least crutches, I'm already a winner. We can still be friends, I like your company. I can barely stand my family and, anyway, it sucks being alone. If you change your mind I promise you can choose the next movies. So, are you staying with me? I mean, will you keep working on my recovery?"

  Klaus's words hit me deep but I can't weaken now. However, I think it's fair to be as open with him as he was with me.

  "Klaus, I'm going to be honest with you. It's not about not wanting you, I just can't. Wanting you is not right. If we met under different circumstances, maybe our relationship would be different. But the fact is, that I was hired to be responsible for your recovery, not to be your lover. So, we can't. I would love to keep being your friend. If you can accept that, then I'll keep working with you."

  I squeeze his hand, and the touch of his skin on mine and the almost tangible tension in the air, makes a mockery of what we just said. Every time Klaus touches me, it's as if the match between his hands and my body was perfect. Our hands let go slowly and Klaus leaves my room, leaving a bitter taste on my tongue, thinking of never feeling the intoxicating sensation of his mouth on mine.

  But being apart in inevitable, it's better this way.

  THREE MONTHS LATER

  ANAHÍ SARAÍBA

  Twenty days after our conversation we leave the residential hotel in Leblon and move back to Klaus's newly renovated house. I thought being back in the comfort of his house would be good for him, grave mistake. Klaus became aloof and emotionally unstable, to the point where he didn't even realize the progress and wins we had since starting our sessions. And to complete my rotten luck, the promise we made to keep being friends, shattered like fine porcelain. The conversations we used to have, our moment of levity and joking became rarer and rarer, then stopped altogether. Nowadays, Klaus barely says a word to me, and the despondency with which he goes through the exercises is frustrating to see.

  The anxiety of achieving quick results, coupled with his emotional frustrations, sent him to a stark and deep depression. There have been moments when I wanted to pack my bags and leave, but something stops me from leaving him. I don't know if it's my idiot hope that he'll wake up from this lethargy, or if I just can't be apart from him. I just don't know! Words are not enough to explain, I just keep being here, next to him, despite everything.

  I've just finished a progress report and should be happy. But instead of celebrating Klaus's breakthroughs like the slight movement of his hip, his stability keeping his upper body straight, the independence he won by taking care of his own personal hygiene. But instead, I mourn. I'm saddened by seeing him with a full beard, quiet, and, every day, more and more tempted by alcohol. Several times we had to cancel our sessions because he has drunk so much the night before he was in no condition to do the exercises. I blame his so-called friends that frequently promote parties filled with booze and big-breasted models with the excuse of cheering him up.

  Twice I thought of quitting but was convinced by Renato to keep trying to bring Klaus back to reality. The house routine has gone to hell, but like they say, nothing is so bad that it can't get worse. And that evil has a name, Débora Silva, the new nurse. After Sandro, who blatantly harassed me, was fired, Débora was hired by Felipe to take his place. And ever since that viper settled in here, I've been doing my best to keep being professional and not kick her slutty ass.

  Blonde, blue eyes, skinny, and fake breast, Débora, the trainee Barbie nurse, is the dream of most men, especially those who appreciate tackiness. Ever since we met, we haven't gotten along, and had a hard time living in the same place, but now it's gone to hell as she subverts all my efforts to keep Klaus away from booze and healthy. The flea-ridden bitch let's Klaus eat crap instead of doing her job, spoiling him hoping for an advantage. She thinks she has me fooled, but I know behind that diligence is just financial interest, I'm certain she thinks if she does whatever he wants, throwing that inflatable breasts in his face, he'll make her the next Mrs. Schneider.

  We're all in the living room, watching a MMA fight in the TV, when the call girl intern puts herself behind Klaus's chair and sinks her red claws in his hair, petting him. I pretend I don't see and look at my wrist, I count ten minutes on my watch, not a second more and the cow stops petting Klaus's hair and asks him money to go to the hairdresser, purring like a cat in heat.

  "Klaus, I wanted so much to get my hair done to look pretty for tonight's party. You could give me an advance. I'll pay you back as soon as I can, okay?"

  "How much do you need?"

  Klaus asks distracted, still watching the fight.

  She bites her finger and says, thoughtful, "I think about R$500."

  R$500 for a hair treatment? Did I hear that right?

  "Sure," Klaus answers his eyes still glued to the TV screen. "Anahí, can you get my wallet?"

  What? Is he blind and doesn't understand that this tramp dressed up as a nurse is taking advantage of him? And on top of it I have the get his wallet? No way! I get up and go to my room, pretending I haven't heard him. I'm so mad I can stand still in the room, I leave and head to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. When I sit back in the living room, Débora is giving Klaus a double dose of whiskey on the rocks. Renato looks at me disappointed by seeing his patient drowning and leaves crestfallen, saying he needs to get up early.

  Débora passes by me and, looking at me mockingly, puts the money in her bra and says goodbye to Klaus.

  "See you later. I can't wait for the party to begin. We're going to have so much fun, right, gorgeous?"

  I huff, turn my back, and leave. I can't stand it anymore! Watching him dejected and conned by a tramp like Débora? This is not why I stayed working with him.

  I try to read a Nicholas Sparks romance and can't, the noise that fills the house is deafening. It's 3AM and it seems like this hell is going to keep going until dawn. I hear women's giggles and breathless shrieks, and the sound of broken glass. I open the door to my room to see what the noise is all about. As soon as I leave my room, I run into Renato in his pajamas in the hallway, leaning against the wall and looking at the dreadful orgy with disappointment in his eyes. He holds me back by the arm and says worriedly,

  "Anahí, it's best if you don't go there. The party is getting rough and you're not the type of woman to go about this kind of environment. Tomorrow I'll try to speak with Klaus, the way that he's going can't go on."

  I pull my arm out of Renato's grip and stare at him, then go in the direction of the living room. Renato gives up on trying to stop me, and keeps pace with me.

  "He's been drinking, Renato? Where is he?"

  Renato nods and answers, mournfully, "He's been drinking, and a lot of it. I think he's in the balcony. But listen to me, Anahí, don't go there."

  I get to the living room and barely recognize that this is a house and not a sex club. Near the bar there's a DJ playing some kind of techno music and all around there's an orgy that sickens me. Couples grind against each other in the corners, some women are already shirtless. Near me, two women lick a third one's breast, a tiny blonde that looks underage. A man passes by me only in under
pants, drinking straight from a bottle and on the couch a naked brunette positions herself on all four to suck a man's cock while another fingers her. Dênis, one of Klaus's friend, leans over the glass table and set up some lines of coke, snorting some of them and then offering a straw so a woman can snort the rest. A threesome between a guy and two women start in the furo bath in the balcony.

  I look around me and try to contain my rage, my heart beats out-of-sync with outrage and I can't. I walk around the room, jumping over bottles of alcohol on the floor, searching for Klaus until I see him out on the balcony. He holds a bottle of whiskey close to his chest and he's so drunk he can barely keep his eyes open. Débora sits on his lap, drinking champagne directly from the bottle and laughs like a hyena, dressed in only a thong. I yell at Klaus and he opens his eyes with difficulty.

  "Klaus, stop this orgy right now!"

  Klaus tries to answer, but he's so drunk he's barely making sense.

  "Shit, no, no, it going to hit, fuck!!!"

  Débora laughs loudly at the face Klaus makes, then turns to voice, raising her voice.

  "Don't be such a party-pooper, you shitty little Indian girl. Why don't you go back to your tribe? He's having fun, right hottie?"

  Klaus faces me and covers his face, crying non-stop, holding on to the whiskey as if it's his anchor.

  "Little cabocla, leave. I don't want you to see me like this.”

  I breathe hard, furious. I turn my back on both of them and remember the golf club left on the storage of the exercise room I grab the club, a broom, I look for Renato who apparently couldn't deal with the vileness and went back to his room. I go there and knock on the door. He opens it looking tired and I silently give him the golf club. I motion for him to follow me to the living room.

  "I'm ending this party now, before this bunch of vultures end him. Are you helping me or not?" I ask.

  Renato nods and says angrily, "When he's out of the woods, I'm asking for a raise, that fucking knuckle-head."

  Renato goes to the DJ and tells him to cut the music. The bunch of drunks boo Renato and I clap my hands, moving to the middle of the room.

  "The party is over. Everybody out," I scream. "Now!"

  I take glasses out of the hands of a few women that complain but slowly everyone starts leaving. Some troublemakers insist on staying and Débora comes into the room, making a fuss.

  "Who told you to end the party? Klaus is the owner of the house. Why don't you go back to your little room and let us have fun in peace?"

  That is it. This slut has pissed me off. I grab the broom, and go after her, sweeping her out.

  "Get out of my sight, or you're going to see what I'm capable of. I'll break this broom in your back, you tramp. I bet you're not even a nurse. If you are, I'll eat my shoe. So leave and never come back."

  Débora grabs her clothes and leaves the house, livid. A few minutes later I look around and the room is practically empty with the exception of the DJ that's packing up the sound equipment and two drunks that Renato is shepherding out of the place. Klaus yells at me with a rambling voice and when I near him, he throws up all over his shirt. Renato comes to me and I shake my head, heartbroken at seeing Klaus in this wretched state.

  "He needs a bath. Can you help me?"

  Renato pushes Klaus's chair to the bedroom and brings him to the bathroom. I help him undress Klaus from his dirty clothes, and when he's only in his underpants, Renato says timidly,

  "I can take it from here, Anahí."

  "Don't be a dumb-ass, Renato. Let's just finish this."

  I help him put Klaus in the shower and open the water. Klaus staggers this upper body and mumbles my name, crying like a baby.

  "Anahí, fuck! Everything is hell, little cabocla. I'm fucked. Make the pain stop, please."

  He covers his face with his arm so we can't see him cry and the reaches out with his other one in my direction.

  "Don't leave my fucking alone anymore! Stay here with me. Stay, baby."

  Renato faces me dumbfounded and I take a deep breath, not caring if Renato notices what's happening between us, tired of denying we need each other. He needs me as much as I need him, and I want to bring him back to life and this night it doesn't matter if it's right or not. I just want Klaus, my Klaus back. I ask Renato to leave us alone and as soon as he closes the door, I let my clothes get drenched in this cold shower and clean his body carefully, scrubbing his hair and arms. He holds me by the waist and hides his face in my stomach, moaning quietly,

  "You forgive me, sweetheart?"

  I wash out his hair and kiss his forehead, losing the battle against crying. Forgive? What's to forgive? Who? Me? That like a coward, stubbornly ignores what I feel for him? Or him, that jumped head first into this perverse well of self-pity and destruction? I give up on thinking and follow my instincts that are yelling at me to care and let myself get involved with this lost, broken, imperfect man.

  "Shh, it's okay. It's over now."

  I wash his chest with firm movements and kneel in front of him, letting my soapy hands go down in stomach, hips, and thighs. His boxers outline the shape of his cock slowly but steadily hardening when my hands brush his groin. He faces me embarrassed and stutters trying to apologize for getting excited.

  "Fuck! I'm sorry, I didn't know I could... I mean, I thought it.... argh! You know what I mean."

  I hide a smile, feeling my face heating up bashfully, moved by the feminine pleasure of being the cause of such excitement.

  "It's okay. You don't need to apologize."

  I finish giving Klaus a bath the turn around, covering my breasts. I pull my drenched dress off and put a long, fluffy robe. I hold the robe's neck to hide my cleavage and leave the bathroom, calling for Renato. He goes into the bathroom and I leaving them alone so he can help Klaus out of his boxers and into a robe.

  Renato helps Klaus into his bed and when I'm close to leaving the room so he can sleep, Klaus's voice halts me by the door.

  "Little cabocla, sleep here with me," he asks. "I give you my word I won't try anything, just stay with me tonight.

  My hands squeeze the doorknob and the first thought in my head is that it's best if I say no, but I want it so much, dream about sleeping in his arms so much that my skin begs for his touch. I need to hold him close and feel him mine, at least once. Strangely in this internal debate, something new happens: emotions win over reason. My hands close over the key and I lock the door slowly then turn back to his bed.

  He looks at me surprised then pulls the sheets so I lie down next to him, and that's what I do. I warm us by pulling the sheet over us, then silently put my leg between his thighs, and I can feel him shiver from the touch. My fingers bury themselves in his short hair and I pet him slowly and quietly, enjoying the indescribable sensation of the heat of his body glued to mine.

  Klaus twines his arm around my waits and pulls me to him, until our breaths calm. Before falling asleep, our promise of not getting involved breaks down, I lift my face for a kiss, and he doesn't deny me... His lips rub soft and sweet on mine, his tongue tastes mine slowly, searching, exciting, pulling a moan out of me. I gasp and so does he, both of us filled with desires. After a long time, Klaus and I finally fall asleep, with our hearts appeased, satisfied by being in each other's arms, if only for tonight.

  CHAPTER 10

  ANAHÍ SARAÍBA

  I wake up with the delicious sensation of Klaus's hand wandering over my naked skin. My robe is halfway open and his hand is under the fabric and slowly makes it way to my back, my ass, squeezing them with pleasure. His heavy breathing lets me know that he's awake too...and horny. His intense cobalt-blue eyes find mine and I hang my head, embarrassed and he stops petting me. He lifts my head, forcing me to face him. His careless smile is contagious and I can't resist it, I smile too and bite my lip, disconcerted by the effect of his intense eyes on me.

  "Good morning, Anahí."

  "Good morning, Klaus."

  I move and try to move my thigh that's i
n between his own, and rub his hard cock. He looks down at his erection and smiles satisfied, grabbing my leg and not letting me escape. Klaus buries his face on the curve of my neck and nibbles on it, wrapping me in this desire-filled atmosphere with his warm hoarse voice.

  "Can you feel what you do to me? I didn't think it was possible, but look, look how hard you make me, baby. Let me show you how good it can, we'll go only as far as you want."

  I push him away and sit back on my heels, no worrying about my naked breasts. I look at him hesitantly, while a whirlwind of doubts surrounds my thoughts. Hesitation. It seems that word haunts me in regard to Klaus. I hesitate, run, try to escape what I feel for him, clinging to what I've learned all my life to think as what's right. I can almost hear my mom's voice, before I came to the big city, Live in the white man's world, but don't surrender to it. How to live in a world without experiencing it? After all, what is certain about love, since it and I were never introduced?

  Klaus uses his arm's strength to sit up too and faces me, looking quickly at my naked breast with heavy-lidded eyes.

  KLAUS SCHNEIDER

  Anahí sits up fluidly and faces me, scared, with her almond eyes. I know, I feel all her feelings, because they are also my own. In the meanwhile, even though I fear I'm not the man that she deserves, one certainty soothes me: no man can desire her the way I do. It's so strong and so much it's almost painful... My cock hurts wanting to be in her, my hands shake wanting to touch her skin. Anahí has become a necessity, an uncomfortable thirst, a throbbing hunger impossible sate.

  I take my hands to the side of my boxers and slid them on my hips as far as I can go. I look at my erection and then at her, embarrassingly asking her to free my cock from its prison and accept the imperfect male I can be for her.