Dangerous Love Affair

Monalise and Rafael

Marriage.

Something about that word lingered in the back of my mind the next morning when I woke up. It left a bitter taste in my mouth, but oh so sweet at the same time. I loved marriage but I didn't exactly love the man I was married to. Or maybe I did. Maybe I just couldn't stand his guts right now.

He made me feel happy but mad at the same time. Sexy but with a hint of immaturity. Not good enough. The perfect wife. Did I speak too much? Did I wait until I got permission? Should I have skinned an Italian woman and worn her skin as clothes? Make him love me more. Make him less distant with me.

"Mona!"

I jumped and spun around to face the irritated face of my mother. She was wearing a black fur coat with a white jumpsuit underneath. Her hair was in a sleek low bun and she wore red on her lips. She looked perfect. Not a day over the age she liked to lie about.

She came around the kitchen and reached in front of me to turn off the stove. It was then that I realized that the smoke detectors were going off, meaning my blueberry pancakes were trash.

She fanned the smoke in front of me with a towel. She moved the now ruined pan onto a different part of the stove, "¿Que Paso? Where's your head today? I've been knocking for five minutes only to come in and see this. Where's Rafael?"

I grabbed the pan from the stove and threw it into the trash can. The smoke detector finally stopped thanks to my mom's make shift fan.

"He's probably impregnating the nearest Italian woman he can find." I said lowly.

I knew my mom heard it because she sucked her teeth. I knew she was going to try to give me a long speech about how much he loved me and how he would never do that to me. I didn't care. I didn't want to hear it.

I washed my hands before I got out of the kitchen and walked up the stairs. My mom didn't bother following me which meant she was probably calling my husband to tell him everything I did and said.

I entered the room that smelled strongly of Rafael's cologne and shut the door loudly. I wanted my mom to know I wasn't in the mood today. I didn't mean to be such a brat, but I couldn't help myself. After the way my husband made me feel last night, I ignored him and everything he did and yet I still couldn't relive myself of the anger I had.

I laid down face first on my bed at an odd angle. The coolness of my sheets contrasted with how hot I felt. My mind drifted to my sister Aleesa. She was probably somewhere in London meeting her new boyfriend. I envied her. She got to live so free. She got the luxury of becoming who she wanted while I got stuck here.

We were inseparable when we were younger. I was the oldest, so anything I did Aleesa copied. If I got a scratch playing on our make shift playground, then miraculously, Aleesa would have one too. My favorite colors were hers and my favorite movies became hers too. I didn't mind, it prevented so many disagreements growing up. Wherever I was, she could be found.

Until she was 16 and I was 17. Aleesa got pregnant. Jake Harbert. A senior. My father was furious. He threatened to have Jake arrested for rape, but my sister begged him not to. Instead she somehow talked him into letting her have the baby, give it up for adoption, and going to an all-girls boarding school in London.

Phone calls in the span of three months were the only way we kept up now. I was a month and a half away from another phone call from her. Last I heard, she owned a hair salon that serviced celebrities from all over and she lived in England's wealthiest neighborhood. You wouldn't be able to tell from the way she still partied and went out.

I got up from the bed and headed towards the bathroom. I slipped off the dress I had on and turned on the shower to hottest mode there was. It made me feel cleaner that way no matter how much it burned my skin. I got in and let the water cascade all over my body and my hair. I didn't intend on washing it at first but that gave me an excuse to actually do something with my hair today.