Ana Oliveira Part 2

When we got home, it was already 11 p.m. The house was plunged into darkness. Josiah and his friends were nowhere to be seen. Luana went to her room, yawning as she wished me good night.
I silently went to Marta's room, peeking through a crack in the door to check if everything was alright. Júlia was asleep, her pacifier hanging from her lips and clinging to her grandmother. Marta was in a deep sleep, with a satin cap on her hair and reading glasses over her eyes. She had probably fallen asleep reading one of her spicy novels.
My heart warmed at the way the two of them were connected… It was so comforting to see that my little piece of the world had someone who could be like a mother to her if I were no longer here.
I continued on my way, grabbing a grape juice box from the fridge and heading to the guest room at the end of the hallway. I entered the room with salmon-colored walls, a queen-sized bed with soft, fresh sheets, and left my shoes by the door.
I wasn’t going home. I hated walking alone around the complex at that hour. There was no real danger, but I felt vulnerable, and I hated that feeling.
I took a steamy shower, wrapping myself in one of Marta’s fluffy towels before slipping into a black silk nightgown. I pinned my hair in a messy bun and threw myself onto the bed.
I tried to keep my mind calm to fall asleep, but every time I let myself try to rest, two intriguing light eyes appeared in my mind.
Was he angry?
Did he feel even a fraction of what he made me feel by fucking another woman in front of me? Unable to shake the thoughts, I got up, wandering around the room, clutching the grape juice box and sipping from it. What an asshole! My daughter didn’t even miss me, happily enjoying those enormous arms covered in tattoos. I bet if I buried my nose in her little head, that damn Calvin Klein One smell would still be there.
I don’t even know how I ended up there, but my restless steps led me to the only black door in the house, a place that Marta kept like a shrine, as if her son would come back there any moment.
I rested my fingers on the door, pushing it slowly. I wasn’t sure what I wanted there, why I felt such a need to seek something of him, some presence. I found the room shrouded in darkness, the scent of him maddeningly embedded in the air.
“It still smells like he’s here…” I whispered, trying to adjust my eyes to the darkness.
“Because I am, Sweetheart.”
I nearly fainted! Good heavens! I turned on the light, eager to see if there was a malevolent spirit mocking me. The only perversion in the room was Josiah, in black underwear and a t-shirt, lying on his bed with his forearm propped on his head.
I looked at his perfect face, which wore a sleepy smile. My heart ached, sending memories of that same smile over the years I woke up next to him. I felt like crying, but I forced my face to become an impenetrable barrier.
“Did you find someone to fuck?” he taunted, rubbing his eyes.
“You’re such an idiot, aren’t you?”
I walked over to the desk in the room, the same one where he had held my face many times, making me almost taste the mahogany as he buried himself in me.
Damn it!
Fucking memories.
I sat on top of the desk, pushing the leather chair with my foot. Josiah’s piercing gaze devoured me, curious, looking at me unabashedly. Just that fucking look, those arms finally wrapped in a white t-shirt, that disheveled hair, would make anyone want to come.
Asshole!
“What are you doing here, huh?” he asked, seeming impatient. His face started to show a lack of amusement, not giving me a chance to answer. “Júlia cries to sleep. She keeps asking for the breast,” he said, standing up and grabbing water from his nightstand. “Don’t you think you should get our daughter used to a different sleep routine?”
“Don’t start interfering too much, okay?” I scolded, pissed off, while watching him take sips of water.
“I’ll always interfere, dear!” he warned, pulling a rolling chair, sitting down, and spinning it far away from me. “I’m saying what’s right. If you want to go out more at night, which I’m not judging, you should think about her well-being. I don’t know, get Little One used to a bottle. I don’t want my daughter screaming to sleep.”
I stayed silent, with teary eyes and feeling very cruel. Even when I tried to be a good mother, I ended up making mistakes.
“Don’t cry! I’m not fighting with you,” he consoled, his voice very soft. “I just want what’s best for my Little One.”
“I want that too, Josiah.”
We stayed quiet, staring at each other for a long time. I was lost in thought, planning to get the necessary information to start weaning Júlia off the breast, worried. Marta used to give her a bottle when I left her there, but she told me that she whined to sleep the day I left her to go to the bar, really asking for the breast.
The truth is, I was enjoying life, and I felt guilty for loving the moments when I could be something more than a mother. It was like letting out a scream stuck in my throat.
Damn it!
Everything is so hard when it comes to being a mother. He wouldn’t understand because it was easier for him, and even if he had been present from the start, it wouldn’t have been as hard as it was for me. It was my breasts that felt like they would fall off from being so cracked, my stitches that split open, the damn hand that broke and made it almost impossible to hold her when she was a newborn. And I refused to remember the cause of all that...

“Where did you go?”
“Stop bothering me! I’m not going to tell you,” I shouted, irritated.
“Are you feeling feisty?” he taunted, with a playful expression. “That turns me on.”
“You’re such an asshole, Josiah!” I muttered, sipping the purple juice. “I don’t question you about where you go or don’t go.”
Josiah got up out of nowhere, walking towards me. He shoved the chair, sending it crashing against the opposite wall with force. His gaze locked onto mine, and as I realized he was about to come at me, I lifted my feet, holding his chest in a sensual manner.
“What do you want, Sweetheart?” I mocked, heart racing, playing along with his game.
“I want to fuck you right on this table!” he growled, his jaw set with desire.
“Let’s play a game…” I said, sipping the juice and letting it dribble down my chin, tracing a path over my body.
I was feeling down, and I was capable of doing much to escape the pain. And while that bastard made me furious, he could also offer me relief.
Josiah tried to advance, pushing my legs apart, which kept him from my body.
“No!” I warned.
I tried to maintain the barrier, but again he tried to push forward. The pressure on my legs was somewhat painful, and my back began to arch. I was about to fall backward onto the wooden surface.
“No touching!” I growled, holding his gaze with an intimidating stare.
“Now I get it…” he murmured, biting his lower lip, easing off.
“Then kneel!” I ordered, setting the juice down beside me.
When he finally stopped pressing against my legs, I held the edge of my nightgown, nibbling the inside of my lower lip as I slowly slid my hands underneath it. I gripped the edge of my pink lace panties, rolling the fabric as I slowly removed them from my body.
His gaze on me was primal. My ex clenched his jaw, as if holding a beast within. It was incredibly exciting to see him kneeling before me, his thigh muscles tensing and outlining his contours. I slid the silk fabric up my thighs, anchoring it to the neckline of my nightgown. I slowly descended from the table, landing my feet on the floor in a sensual manner. I placed my left hand on the table and, with my right, poured the grape juice over my bare stomach, watching the liquid trickle down between my legs.