Peace. Here’s part 2 of the short story series attempt. In this piece, I try to write differently and keep the woman’s thoughts more insular, which is how I imagine her. Let me know if you think it ties neatly enough with the first part. PEACE!
When Wind Blows North
Morning always arrived too soon for Victoria. It was in her restful periods that she was able to quiet her busy mind. She was able to forget those nights where Evan would lay on her. It was when she would also fantasize about those nights and made them pleasurable. She had become accustomed to him, immoral as his actions were. She would make herself available to him so he would be tender where before she was resistant to him. When she resisted, he used pain to control the moment. The girth of it perturbed her but the scent of him excited her and she wanted more of the closeness. She would make Evan into any boy she fantasized about in school and he never lasted long enough. When she reacted to him, he became excitable and she responded more. She had found a perverse symbiosis with Evan’s peaking moment. In essence, she was controlling him in her own way. She felt power in this submission. She thought she could make Antonio into her own manner of tool.
Victoria kept in contact with Evan, unbeknownst to Antonio. He wouldn’t understand, Victoria thought. She knew Antonio wanted respectful boundaries put between her and her past. Victoria enjoyed having access to her old lovers. She idealized their friendships, all while knowing that these men were simply drawn to the possibility of more. She kept them at bay, only offering what she felt was enough to ensnare them. When she didn’t see or speak with Antonio, she would engage in torrid conversations with her fawning men. She reveled in this magnetic hold she possessed over them. She held these things secret because she was empowered by the adoring words of those who should be forbidden. She felt alive when she was being chased. What Antonio had become was a comfortable routine, not necessarily a bad one. She was not excited. As beautiful and shockingly intelligent as he was, he was too tender – too much in love with her. She needed him to be more than what he was and she knew he’d become too soft. Antonio was not enough for her but she didn’t want to let him go just yet.
Uncle Evan was not family. He was her father’s college roommate. When her father became ill, he moved nearby to help the family then eventually moved in. As her father slowly approached death, Evan began sleeping with her mother. Victoria suspected that her father knew this but was too powerless to stop them from engaging. Poppa’s eyes were always so sad when he saw Mom and Evan speak. Victoria would sneak to the guest room to watch Evan get naked and lay with her mother. She would look at them, swept up in the urges many teenagers experience and feeling the shame that sometimes accompanied those moments. She wanted to mute her desire but it began to consume her. She wanted Evan to show her how to use her body. She wanted him but of course, she couldn’t ask him. At 16 and fully developed, Victoria did her best to showcase her body to Evan. He would look but his eyes would always dart the other way. His weaknesses for her became a reality when one night he visited her room after her mom had a drunken celebration for a recent job promotion. Mom slept hard already but this night she barely moved. He sat on the bed and boldly asked her if she was wearing her small shorts on purpose. She would lift her toned legs and shyly say yes. He began to get familiar with her and while it was painful at first, she slowly began to learn how to accept it. She fought him often but after time, she became a willing partner.
Antonio can’t know these things, she thought. He’d do something to Evan now. Antonio can’t know about Gabriel. Gabriel wanted her so fully and openly and she would be anything he asked her to be but he’s reluctant because of Tony, Victoria thought. Gabriel lived just one complex over and would always stare right into her eyes as he complimented even the minutest detail. Victoria was content to have her clandestine visitors and phone calls while suffering through the relationship rut. Or so she thought. Was she starting to reveal her detachment? Was she showing Antonio how much she was missing? Why won’t he get angry with me? Why can’t he raise his voice beyond a slight shout? Why won’t he show any damn emotion aside from syrupy affection and his damned big moments? How do you tell a man what you need from him without humiliating him? She didn’t know and began to not care. She just wanted a deeper connection with him or nothing at all. She was torn. She loved this man. He was good to her and very loyal. He was honest and considerate and kind. He just felt rote to her. Whose fault was it anyway, she pondered. She couldn’t describe these feelings to even her best of friends. They all thought the world of Antonio. Her entire family loved this man; even Evan. Evan called him a golden retriever. She laughed when he said it in her bedroom during one of their last times together, but it was true. He was a good old lap dog who would never betray her. Good old faithful Antonio, always there to wag his happy tail and get petted.
She decided she didn’t have enough good reason to end their relationship so she learned how to do things he liked, even if she hated it. She loved touching him and she enjoyed his shape. She loved his beard and arms. She was definitely attracted to him but she wanted him to show a streak of passion and he was far too passive. Antonio would get rough with her if she teased him or when he was close. He would talk more then. He would move like she wanted but it was all too brief. She just wanted him to finish most of the time. There was always the small moment after where the sweat and smells and stickiness filled her with a sense of completion but they were rarely repeated. She clung to the hope that she would fall back in a deeper love with him. She was close, but it was elusive. Breakfast made them happy. They enjoyed eating and she loved to watch him cook. She loved being served and catered to in this fashion. If Antonio had a perfect mark on any part of his character, it’d be in the arena of taking care of her basic needs.She kept wondering each time they had these moments of when would be a good time to tell her who Evan was. She kept wondering if there was purpose in telling him how she began to feel. She would go through these flips,smiling and feigning attentiveness but her mind wandered. She never said anything. She never had that courage to start that conversation. Victoria was just like Antonio – held back by an unseen wall. She decided to then to just keep eating. She promised quietly to herself to keep sleeping late.