TWO HUNDRED AND SEVENTY DAYS?
I caught up with him in the garden.
"Wait! You tell me that so coldly?! And what are you going to do now… she had family!"
Hugo shook my hand off his arm.
His icy gaze pierced me.
"Why do you care?"
"Are you kidding?! She said that I—"
His hand landed on my mouth to silence me.
Not violently, but firm.
"Calm down," it was an order. "I've already taken care of everything."
He loosened his hand, but instead of pulling it away, he rubbed his fingers against my trembling lips.
"Don't try to pretend you care," he added.
I took a deep breath.
"I won't," I murmured. "If you've handled it… I'm fine."
"Good."
He gave me a couple of soft pats on the cheek.
I tried to ignore it.
But I couldn't understand how it really didn't affect him.
As if death was just a formality for him.
"I thought you loved her. I knew you were cold, but this leaves me speechless."
He let out a silent laugh.
His hand making that familiar gesture in his hair.
"I think it's great that you're getting to know me," he started to walk away, then stopped a few meters ahead. "Ah…" he said without turning, patting a pocket. "The ring… I have it. Thanks for guarding it for so long."
So long?
I stayed silent.
The air, smelling of dust and pollen, stirred my hair.
I had to sit on a step when my legs gave out.
I only stood up when I had organized my thoughts.
First I went for coffee.
Then a bath to clear my head.
And then I settled into Hugo's office with my phone to organize files and make my list.
I was there for hours without drama or interruptions.
In the end I had everything written down.
I stretched, satisfied, in the chair, and thought about Sue.
Dead.
I still couldn't believe it.
Also about the loose ends:
Her, the notes, my fantasies.
I took a deep breath.
I was about to stand up when a thought hit me like a meteor.
I opened my phone to check a date.
The day I arrived and never left again.
The day that thing Hugo called a game began.
For me, this was the third.
But…
A scream exploded inside me when I saw it.
No.
It was impossible.
The phone fell from my hands.
My eyes widened in horror at the lit screen.
"Is… this a joke?" I stammered.
Then I laughed.
A dry, forced but inevitable laugh.
I checked the current date.
Also the time.
I went back.
Again and again.
It had to be a loop.
A glitch, a fold, a crack.
Altered reality.
Any name would do.
Because it was impossible that nine months had passed.
Something like… two hundred and seventy days?
From that night.
In that exact moment I had a violent wave of nausea.
I barely had time to move away from the desk.
And I vomited.
AT LAST.
The phone trembled in my hand after I had made almost a dozen calls.
To my landlord.
My sister.
Acquaintances.
My dentist.
My therapist.
And finally…
To my boss.
No one answered.
As if they didn't exist.
Rings that bounced from my ear into the void.
Not even calls that went to voicemail.
And for the first time since it all started… I seriously doubted my sanity.
This… Was it real?
Delirium?
Or a mix of both?
Thick drops of sweat bathed my temples.
And the silence of the mansion weighed on me more than ever.
As if it were hugging me, invasive.
"Hugo," I murmured.
I wanted to scream.
I swear I wanted to.
But I couldn't even articulate.
A hoarse whistle escaped from my chest.
And something completely absurd happened.
I cried.
Broken, disturbing images piling up in my mind.
Like a sentence.
And that metallic taste that thickened my tongue.
I didn't cry.
Not since I was a child.
And that was the horrifying part.
Feeling vulnerable when I had always been confident and powerful.
That's what I sincerely believed.
Now I didn't even know what I felt.
While the tears burned me.
I turned on the faucet to wash my face.
"I don't want to cry, fuck," I demanded of myself.
Then I heard the footsteps.
And the voice.
That damn voice.
"You don't have much time left. I need those contracts now."
I spun around like a whirlwind and a choked scream escaped me.
Hugo was there, looking at me strangely.
"What's wrong with you?"
"Did you say something?"
I huffed and wiped my soaked face.
Tears mixed with water.
He took a few steps.
His expression was one of confusion.
Almost.
"Are you… crying?" Then it changed to calculation. "Mmm… are you giving in…"
"Shut up," I growled. "I'm not giving in to anything. Yes, I'm crying. I usually do it when I'm alone," I lied. "But you… you came back too early."
He made a mocking gesture.
"Seriously, 9 o'clock seems early to you?"
I glanced quickly at the windows.
Night was filtering in waves.
Overlapping shadows whispering, conspiring.
I swallowed with difficulty.
The world stopped for a long second.
And then I laughed.
Of course… I was in the middle of a fucking mental dystopia.
No wonder I was starving.
"Seriously, you don't look well," his voice cut me off. "If you need to see a doctor…"
"No," I assured him, determined to regain control no matter how unlikely it seemed. "I just… need something."
I looked at him.
It was a dense, absorbing look…
The kind that leaves a mark.
And I was no longer going to hold back.
"You," I finished.
"And I need you."
What?
Before I could react, he was kissing me.
With a fury that burned.
He slammed me against the counter, and while his mouth devoured mine, his hands explored the forbidden.
I moaned against his lips and his breath, digging my nails into his nape.
It still felt like a lie.
"This time… is it really… happening…"
His tongue in my throat stopped me from continuing and I surrendered to that pleasure that crawled over my skin like an infamous, addictive bonfire.
"Yes…" I opened my legs and lifted one, hooking it around his.
In a second he lifted me onto the counter.
Without stopping kissing or touching me.
Everything around us ceased to exist.
Except my CEO and his desire.
Mine, oversized.
Finally finding release.
"At last."
Maybe when it was over —I dared to hope— everything would go back to normal.
But at that moment that was irrelevant.
Besides, I no longer had any way of knowing what normal was.
I arched backward when his fingers entered me.
I stopped thinking, on the verge of breaking.
I was in the middle of it when a different breath heated my ear.
And a hand that wasn't his wrapped around my throat.