The Enigma of Dunyasha Lebedinski

"Dália, this is Dunyasha Lebedinski, the project manager representing the other group," Carlos introduces. "This is Dália Penedo and Salazar, my wife."
"Pleased to finally meet you," says the blonde, who to top it all off is Russian, as evident from her accent. She firmly shakes my hand. "Carlos can't stop talking about you."
"It's a pity I can't say the same," I respond cynically while receiving a reproachful look from my husband.
"Love, wouldn't you like to wear something more... appropriate?" my husband asks, glancing at my lingerie.
"No, I'm perfectly fine like this," I reply while staring at the other woman. "By the way, what exactly is she doing here?"
"She just came to pick up my reports," Carlos explains as he walks past me. "Duny, wait a moment, I'll be right back."
"Duny?" I ask, shocked by the intimacy.
"Don't start, Dália," says Carlos, serious.
The Russian decides to sit on the couch without even being invited to do so, or perhaps she already has the freedom to do whatever she wants here. I sit on the couch, observing "Duny" attentively, who seems unfazed. I must admit she is elegant, at least with that white suit accentuating her breasts and the matching trousers. However, the lines on her face indicate that she must be older than me, probably in her forties. If she is older than Carlos, she probably doesn't stand a chance with him. At least that's what I believe.

"So, how is little Juanzito?" "Duny," asks with a wide smile.
"Juanzito?" I ask, holding back the anger I feel at this moment. I'm about to explode.
"Duny, here it is," says my husband, handing her the folder.
"Thank you, Carl. You always save me," the Russian responds with a smile, raising her hand to my husband, who promptly helps her up. "Well, I'll be going now. It was a pleasure meeting you, Dália."
"The pleasure was all mine to meet you, Duny," I reply, getting up by myself. "Can I call you Duny, right?"
"Of course, dear," responds Dunyasha, always cheerful, annoyingly cheerful. She walks towards the door with Carlos holding her arm while they whisper something, a laugh, and then she turns around and touches my husband's lapel. "See you tonight at Panorama?"
"Without a doubt," Carlos replies, smiling.
"Don't forget to bring Dália. Everyone will love to meet her," comments Duny. She gives two kisses on each side of my husband's face, very slowly, and then leaves.

My husband turns and finds me on the couch, staring at him attentively, seeking any evidence that would rule out his affair with her. He takes a deep breath and sits next to me. I rest my head on my arm, admiring the view, but deep down, I'm holding back from unleashing all the questions that have been stuck in my throat. I came here to have a great weekend with my husband, not to argue. I look at him and hold his hand:

"I researched the best tourist spots in Lisbon to visit this weekend. And I found out that the Lisbon Oceanarium is nearby; they say it's beautiful. Also, the Jeronimos Monastery..."

"Don't you want to talk about Duny?" Carlos asks, raising an eyebrow.

"No..." I reply, stealing a kiss from his lips. I climb onto his lap and continue kissing him, whispering, "Do you want to talk about her, or enjoy the time you have with me?"

He kisses me, and his hand slides over my corset, slowly undoing it as he bites my neck... my skin tingles. He finally sets my breasts free, sucking them with desire... Carlos lays me down on the couch, holds one of my legs, releases the garter belt, and takes off my stocking, doing the same with the other while I bite my lips. I sit on the couch, and then I help him take off his shirt, belt, and pants, and find him erect, waiting for me. I pull my husband towards me... He may call her Dunny, but it's my name that comes out in his moans.

***
The district of Belém is a testimony to the city's Age of Discovery when great Portuguese explorers set out on journeys around the world. During this period, the wealth of the empire abounded and resulted in some of the grandest monuments ever built in the city. Belém is the best place to immerse oneself in the grandeur of royalty, with palaces, traditional houses, and some of the finest museums in Lisbon. And this was the chosen place to start exploring Lisbon since I was eager to try the famous Pastel de Belém.
The Pastel de Belém is an icon of Lisbon, these custard tarts sprinkled with sugar and cinnamon are one of the most celebrated Portuguese specialties, dating back to the 19th century. The Casa Pasteis de Belém (the confectionery where they were invented) was founded in 1837 on Rua de Belém, and its tiled walls echo Portuguese tradition.
The place was crowded, so we bought two boxes of pasteis at the counter, which already come with the tarts, cinnamon, and sugar. Then we headed to the Jerónimos Monastery, a beautiful monastery that showcases the best of the Manueline architectural style. But since most of Belém's tourist spots were already closed, we sat by the Tagus River where the Belém Tower and the Monument to the Discoveries stand.
The Tower was built in 1515 to protect the entrance to the port of Lisbon, while the admirable and modern Monument to the Discoveries was built in 1960 to commemorate the 500th anniversary of Prince Henry the Navigator. Sitting by the Tagus, we ate the pastéis at the foot of the Tower.
We observed people passing by as if we were invisible, just another tourist couple. We savored the pastéis in silence, although my mind was buzzing. My thoughts were only on Dunyasha or Duny, as my husband affectionately called her. What is going on between them? Why so much intimacy? Throughout all these years, one thing I'm sure of my husband is that he has never been one to have close female friends. I turn to him, and he looks at me, curious:
"Duny?" I ask him.
"What do you want to know?" he asks, wiping his lips.
"Everything," I reply.
"Well, Duny," my husband begins, receiving a malicious look from me, "Dunyasha is a super-professional woman, working tirelessly for the good of the company, to the point of leaving her son in the care of her mother. She is divorced and doesn't need anyone by her side because work fulfills her. When I arrived here, she was the first person to welcome me with open arms, made me feel at home."
"I could see that today," I blurt out, receiving a scolding look from my husband.
"Not like that, Dália. I don't see her as a woman, but as a professional, and I'm sure she sees me the same way. Just so you know, she doesn't get along with women and liked you. She feels lonely and doesn't understand why her female colleagues don't like her," comments Carlos, smiling faintly. "We concluded that it might be jealousy because she hangs out with the guys from work. We became friends because we have a lot in common."
"What? Are you going to ask for a divorce and leave Juan with my mother?"
"No, love. We share the same ideas and objectives. Just that."
"And what kind of objectives would those be?" I ask irritably.
"Professional, just professional. Dália, you... you don't need to worry, alright?"
I really want to believe Carlos's words, but now I know I'm not just competing with a Russian woman, but with a Female Carlos, the perfect soulmate.