Woman's Cry

by Vanessa Martir

  I couldn’t stand his cutting bitterness. I felt bad for not sharing his feelings but he was being unreasonable. Still I tried to understand him and not be offended, after all he was the one nursing wounds I’d inflicted.

  “I am involved with someone. I don’t know where it’s going but I am hopeful. He’s a good man and he’s wonderful to me. I’m sorry.”

  “What are you apologizing for?” he interrupted apprehensively. “So you met someone. That’s great. So have you learned how to treat a good man or are you going to chase this one away as well?”

  I couldn’t take his spitefulness anymore. I slammed my fork on the table and glared at him. “You know what, James? I’m sorry that I hurt you and that I couldn’t reciprocate how you felt but you don’t have to be so fucking nasty to me. I don’t deserve that. You know everything I’ve been through and you have the audacity to play victim. How dare you? It’s me, India. Your best friend for years. What the fuck is your problem?” I blinked back the tears that gathered at the corners of my eyes. I refused to give him the pleasure of seeing me cry.

  “India, I haven’t heard from you since when? We’re not friends anymore, who are you kidding? You decided you needed to do you so while you were doing that, I did me. I’m sorry if you don’t like the way I’m talking to you or treating you. This is me now. Don’t be so fucking sensitive.”

  “Sensitive?” I couldn’t believe my ears. I gaped at James but he refused to meet my eyes. He was resentful and there wasn’t much I could do about it. This was something he was going to have to cope with and get over on his own.

  “I think it’s time for me to go. It was, um, nice to see you again. You take care.” I could no longer sit there and take his abuse. My departure was cold to say the least. I could feel him watching me as I walked out of the restaurant but his pride didn’t let him apologize or run after me. I didn’t wait for him to do so either. I called Ruben as soon as I exited the restaurant.

  “Don’t worry about it, India mía. There’s nothing you can do for him. He’s a man and has to do what’s right for him. You did your part.”

  “Yeah, I know. I just feel… I don’t know.”

  “Forget about that. How about I make you dinner tonight?”

  “Damn, pa, you cook too? I am too lucky to have you.”

  “I think we’re both lucky, India. I’ll pick up some stuff at Citarella before I head over there later. You gonna be okay?”

  “Yes. I’ll be fine now that I have you.”

  “And you certainly do have me, India. Besos. I’ll talk to you in a little while.”

  As had become the custom, Ruben assuaged my every worry and smoothed away my frown lines.

  44

  I spent my entire afternoon on my new writing chair enveloped in the world of my journal. By then I had filled six journals with the stories of my life. Without realizing it, I fell asleep curled in a ball, pen perched precariously in my hand, book on my lap. I awoke to a tap on the door.

  “India? You there? Open up.”

  My cheeks tickled at the sound of his voice. I jumped up and opened the door. The sight of him, loaded with bags, soaked from the apparent downpour, made me giggle. “Oh baby, you look like a wet dog.” I planted a quick kiss on his lips before running for a towel but before I could wrap him in it, he swept me off my feet. Cradling me, he kissed me softly.

  “How’s my Indiecita doing? You feeling better?”

  As I looked at him, I felt like little ladybugs were dancing around in my chest making my skin prickle. “I’m wonderful now that you’re here.”

  He smirked and put me down, grabbed the bags and headed towards the kitchen. I followed him, towel in hand.

  “How does seafood sound? We’ll start off with a shrimp cocktail, butter and garlic dipped lobster tail with wild rice. For dessert, strawberry cheesecake.”

  “Pa, you’re gonna get me fat.” I laughed as I tousled his hair with the towel.

  “We’ll worry about that later. There’s a gym on Amsterdam I was looking at. I thought we could join it together. How does that sound?” He put the bags down on the countertop and turned to me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and nuzzled his nose in my neck, his trademark demonstration of affection. “Oooh, somebody needs a shower.”

  “Shut up.” I smacked him softly on the chest. “I didn’t get a chance.” I whined. “I came home and started writing. I think I’m getting close to being done.”

  “Really? That’s dope. Well, get some stuff together for me so I can read it after dinner. In the meantime, go wash that pretty little ass. You smell like sweat.” He smacked me softly on the bottom.

  “Wait. I have something for you.” I ran to my desk and retrieved a small box from the drawer. I’d bought it several days before but hadn’t found the opportune moment to give it to him.

  “What’s this?” he asked crinkling his brow with curiosity.

  “Open it and see.”

  He opened it and retrieved two keys. “What’s this? The keys to your heart?” He held his hands dramatically to his chest. “Kinda corny don’t you think?”

  “No, that would have been kind of high school of me. Um, there’s a key to the lobby door and the other is a key to my door.” I scrutinized his face for a reaction. I’d worried that the step was premature. I mean we hadn’t even slept together yet but my instincts told me it was right so I followed my gut.

  He looked at the keys and looked at me intently, then back at the keys. “Wow, India. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Well, you’re always here anyway. I just thought …” I was growing increasingly anxious, concerned that he’d think I was rushing him. The last thing I wanted was to scare him away. He kissed me before I could start panicking.

  “Indiecita, are you ready for this?”

  “What do you mean am I ready? I was worried that you wouldn’t be ready.”

  “Me, not ready? Girl, I’m waiting for you. You don’t have to wait for me. The ball’s in your court.”

  I tilted my head to the side, taking in his confession. “I’m ready honey.”

  He nodded and kissed my forehead. Just then the bell rang. “Who could that be?” he asked with a sneaky snigger.

  “I’m not expecting anyone.” I walked to the door and spoke into the intercom.

  “Delivery from CompUSA.”

  “Huh?” I buzzed the guy in. “You expecting a delivery, babe?”

  “Are you?” I recognized the playful twinkle in his eye. The knock on the door stopped me from inquiring further.

  When I opened the door my eyes made their way to the two boxes at the deliveryman’s feet. “Delivery for an India Maldonado.”

  “I didn’t order anything.”

  “Just sign for it, India.”

  I gave Ruben a ‘what are you up to’ face as I signed for the package. Ruben handed the guy a tip and brought the packages into the living room. I followed him, crazy with curiosity.

  “So, are you going to open it or stand there and gawk at me?”

  “What did you do?”

  “Just open it!” he commanded exasperated, a little laugh in the back of his throat.

  I began to pull away the packing paper and fell on my ass when I saw what it was. There on the box was a picture of an HP laptop.

  “Now open the other one, please.”

  The other box contained an HP printer. I sat speechless looking at the boxes. My gift couldn’t, didn’t compare to his.

  “I know this doesn’t compare to the key but I just thought you could start fresh with a new computer and printer. You’re starting a new época in your life India, writing your first book and everything. I thought some new equipment would help you along. You can take the laptop with you everywhere you go.” He kneeled and started opening the box. “It’s really lightweight. I ordered a bag for it. They’re on backorder but should arrive within two days or so the salesman said.”

  I threw my arms around him, knocking him over. “It’s
perfect!” I showered his face with kisses. I straddled him and pinned his arms over his head. “And what do you mean this doesn’t compare to the key? This is too much. You really shouldn’t have.”

  He flipped me over quickly. “India, you gave me a key to your crib. Yeah, my gift was more expensive but yours was… Trust me, there’s no comparison.”

  Feeling him on top of me felt amazing. His manhood rubbed against my belly and I felt flutters in my private. I blushed and tried to wrestle him off. He tickled me until I pleaded for mercy then kissed me, pulling me up close to him. I could feel his longing as he rubbed his arms up and down my side. Suddenly he pulled away, lifting us both to our feet.

  “I’ve got to make dinner. You go take a shower, stinky.” I watched him as he walked to the kitchen. I knew he felt what I felt, he wanted to feel me as much as I wanted to feel him but he was holding himself back, waiting for me.

  I walked to the bathroom with a pout. Were we ready? Was our relationship ready? There I go over-thinking again, I scolded.

  Dinner was extraordinary. Ruben made me stay in the living room while he prepared the dining area. He’d lit dozens of candles all around and had arranged a bouquet of colorful African violets as a centerpiece. The food looked and tasted mouth-watering.

  We fed one another in between bites. When he brought out the cheesecake, I looked at him with suspicion. “That looks incredibly like a Junior’s cheesecake.”

  He laughed with guilt. “Okay, okay. This I didn’t make. It is from Junior’s but everything else was my doing.”

  “Strawberry cheesecake is my favorite.” I cut a small piece and put it to his mouth. He licked it from my fingers, eyes fixed on mine. He cupped my face and sucked my lips. Gooseflesh spread on my arms. Then he stopped himself.

  “Why are you so scared to touch me, babe?”

  “Scared? India, with everything you’ve told me, I don’t want to rush you into anything. I’m dying to, you have no idea, but I want it to be right for both of us, not just for me.”

  We ate our dessert in silence. Afterward, he went to work arranging my new computer and printer on my desk. He pulled off his button down and worked in his wife-beater. The muscles on his arms and shoulders flexed as he labored. I had to squeeze my hands in between my thighs to keep from touching him.

  “I’m gonna go take a shower, India,” he said when he was done constructing my new workstation. He hugged me and snuggled into my neck. “Mmmm, now you smell scrumptious and I stink. Let me take a quick shower and we’ll watch a movie.”

  I watched his broad shoulders enter my bathroom. I had no intention of watching a movie that night.

  I took off my clothes and walked into the bathroom.

  “India?”

  I stepped into the shower and stared at Ruben’s soapy muscle rippled back and firm buttocks. He stepped under the water cascade but didn’t turn around.

  “India, you sure you ready for this?”

  I laced my arms under his and held him to me. “I’m tired of contemplating. I’m going on pure feeling. Look at me.” I turned him around and put my hand under his chin. “Look at me please.”

  His eyes traced my bare torso. He breathed deeply and I felt his manhood bump my leg. I wiped the suds from his forehead and stepped back so he could see all of me. We took each other in, mapping out one another’s bodies with our eyes.

  “You’re stunning India, you know that.”

  “You not too bad yourself,” I giggled and felt my face flush.

  We made sweet love in the shower, the warm water rushing over our bound forms. He was unhurried with his every touch. He wrapped my legs around him and entered me with a gentleness that made me shiver.

  “I’ve been dreaming about this for so long, India,” he whispered in between open mouthed kisses to my neck and face. “You feel me, ma?”

  “Yes, baby. Oh God, yes,” I gasped.

  I felt our bodies tense as we readied to burst. It felt amazing, much too remarkable to ask him to pull out. We came together, moaning into one another’s mouths. He held me against the wall, still inside me, smoothed my wet hair from my face and put his forehead to mine.

  “Damn, India mía, what are you doing to me?” He held my face firmly and kissed my eyelids. “Don’t hurt me, India. Please don’t hurt me. I couldn’t handle it. I’m in love with you, India. Head over heels in love with you. Everything about you.” I tasted salt when I kissed his face and knew he was crying.

  “I won’t. Trust me please. I …”

  “Don’t say it ‘cause I said it. Don’t.” He unwrapped my legs from his waist and washed me. We stepped out of the tub and he dried me off, leaving his dripping body exposed. I grabbed the towel and dried him off. I dabbed his face with a corner of the towel.

  “I’d never hurt you babe. I …”

  “Ssshhh.” He put his finger to my lips. “Your actions speak for you, India. I know.”

  He led me to the bed and lay me down, unwrapping the towel from around my body. He scanned my form and removed the towel under me. His thick, long penis was still rock hard. He lay down next to me and circled my stiff nipples with the tips of his fingers, moved down my abdomen and traced my belly button. “You’re perfect. Just perfect. From head to toe, perfect.”

  He brought his mouth to my vagina and with the very tip of his tongue, edged along my clitoris, blowing warm air as he went along. I squirmed, cupping my breasts into my trembling hands. He ate me slowly, moving his tongue down the length of my pussy, down into my ass and back up. When he heard my groans grow louder and my breathing becoming heavy, he resurfaced. I whined in frustration.

  “Not yet, India. I want you to come when I’m inside you. Ssshhh.”

  He tried to enter me but I quickly maneuvered my body from under him and flipped him over. He laughed. “Look at you.”

  “My turn.”

  I kissed his face and took his earlobe into my mouth, as I licked his neck, he pulled back. “Oooh, that’s my weak spot, India. Be careful. You’re gonna bring the tiger out of a nigga.”

  I giggled and moved down his body, lacing him with open mouth kisses. I licked his head with the tip of my tongue and wrapped my hand around his penis, jerking him slowly. I saw him dig his fingernails into my duvet and bite his bottom lip. He took the pillow and propped his head up so he could watch me. I sniggered and began to suck him off. I took his length down my throat, careful to inhale so I wouldn’t gag. I ran my tongue up and down his shaft and curled my lips around my teeth as I stroked him. He began to pant as my strokes became quicker and deeper. I felt his body squeeze and his veins throb in my mouth. I then removed him from my mouth and moved up towards his face.

  “No, no, no. Not yet.”

  He laughed and flipped me over, using his weight and strength to pin me beneath him. “You little tease,” he jested. He put his tongue deep into my mouth and entered me. He squeezed my ass and pushed himself deep inside me. I shrieked as I felt him wiggle around within. He stopped suddenly and pulled back.

  “Ay India, did I hurt you? I’m …”

  “No,” I panted. “Don’t stop!” I pulled him back and pushed him into me. “Don’t stop.”

  He pushed my body down onto him, slipping his hands under my arms and onto my shoulders. He pumped me steadily, biting my neck and listening to my wails of ecstasy. He fed off my reaction; he thrust into me slowly then went faster as I moaned louder and louder.

  “You coming, baby? You coming? I feel you. Ay, India mía, I feel you,” he whispered as I gushed all over him. He pushed his length into me and tears streamed down into my hair as I felt his dick pulsate and spray my insides.

  He fell onto me, exhausted and sweating. I rubbed my hands up his back. “I love you, Ruben.” I held him to my breast as our combined fluids oozed out of me and dripped down my ass.

  “We should really go wash up, India.”

  I lay there dog-tired. “No puedo,” I whined. “I’m sooo tired.”

  He rose, s
cooped me up and plopped me into the bathtub. “Wash that ass,” he laughed. He stepped into the tub next to me and we washed each other. I stayed in the shower, letting the water spill over me after he got out. When I walked into the room, I froze at the picture on the TV screen. Fabian’s mug shot taunted me. Ruben saw the look of dread on my face and knew.

  “That’s him, isn’t it?” he asked, anger rising in his throat.

  I sat on the bed. “What did they say? What’s going on?”

  Ruben bit his lip. “Well” he breathed deeply readying himself. “A jailhouse snitch has implicated him in the shooting of a Carlos Peña. From the look on your face, I can see you know about that. Fabian’s lawyer went public and said that his client is innocent of these charges. He also said …” Ruben looked at me, his brow creased with worry. “India, he’s never gonna hurt you again. I’d never let him hurt you.”

  “Tell me, Ruben,” I said firmly. “Tell me!” I violently wiped the tears from my face, furious that Fabian could still incite such fear in me.

  “His lawyer said that he’s making a motion to have all charges dropped. He claims the police searched his apartment without a warrant and there’s insufficient evidence to tie him to the kidnapping and rape.”

  I fell onto the bed, heaving. Ruben grabbed my shaking form and rocked me. “Don’t worry, Indiecita. The DA said they have a strong case against him. That they have DNA evidence and fingerprints tying him to the crime. That the warrant was unnecessary because they had sufficient cause to search his crib. Don’t worry, India. Please …”

  I pulled away from him abruptly. “What do you mean don’t worry. How am I not supposed to worry? You don’t know what he’s capable of! He’ll kill me! He’ll come find me and kill me and everyone I love! Don’t you see! It’s not over! He swore it wasn’t over and he was right! It’s not! He won’t rest until I’m dead!”

  “Relax, India. I’m here! I won’t let him do anything to you!”

  “And what the fuck are you going to do? Huh? Tell me?” I was so angry I lashed out at Ruben because he was the closest one to me.