Ana Oliveira Part 3

I finished placing a charcuterie board in the center of the table, next to the vase of red flowers. I felt a hand on my hip while I was still positioning the board, trying to align it perfectly with the decorations. The thick fingers gave a light squeeze as I felt the fabric of his pants brushing against my backside. I smiled slightly, straightening up and feeling my neck press against his chest.
"Sweetie..." he whispered in my ear, wrapping his arms completely around me while I felt something hard pressing against my lower back. "This outfit is very... very exciting."
"Stop it!" I scolded, feeling my body heat up as he moved against me, teasing me in the middle of the yard, rubbing his erection up and down against my butt.
"Is it tonight, love?" He bit my earlobe as his hands slid over my stomach. I loved that cologne mixed with the scent of menthol cigarettes that escaped his lips and made my mouth water, full of desire to taste him. "Tell me? Is tonight the night you finally let me have you?"
I froze at the whispered question, making me burn, making me rub my legs together to try to contain the wetness that was pooling there. He had never asked that before, especially not with those words. Josiah would touch me, let his hand brush over my chest, teasing, pretending to lower it and grab my breasts, or slide his hands down my thighs, giving my butt a squeeze or leaning against me as I passed by him. And that was already suggestive enough, already drove me crazy enough...
"Not yet!" I replied, trying to push his hands away, but one of them slid up to my neck and held it, doing the thing that drove me wild... Wrapping his fingers around it and giving a gentle squeeze while he breathed over my ear, brushing his nose against it.
"I'm going crazy... and getting so many calluses on my hand!" he complained, making me let out a small giggle. "And play? You know we can do some things with our mouths too, right?"
"Ana!" Bernardo called from a distance, giving me an excuse to escape the moment.
"I'll think about it, Jow," I warned, trying to free myself from his hands.
Josiah turned me to face him, grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling it back while bringing me even closer to him and forcing me to look into his eyes. There was so much desire in his half-closed eyes. Josiah captured my lips in a hot kiss, sliding his tongue over mine, squeezing my butt with one hand and pulling my hair with the other, making me moan against his mouth.
"My God!" Bernardo shouted, making
me open my eyes in the middle of the kiss and look towards the kitchen door, where he stood, wearing red jeans and a green polo shirt.
"Aunt Martaaa! Look, Josiah and Ana are almost having sex in the yard!"
I burst out laughing against Josiah's lips, who smiled and turned my face back to him, making me lock eyes with him again. Oh, I was way too wet.
"I've gone almost an entire year without having sex, Sweetie. I can't take it anymore..." he whispered.
"I'll think about what to do, but we're not having sex. I still don't feel secure."
"Think about it, love... My cock is going to explode!"
Laughing, I freed myself from his arms, circled around his body, and headed towards Isabela and Bernardo, who were staring at us, standing at the white door in the back of the house. I hugged my friend. She was, as always, dressed in jeans and a baggy sweatshirt, but at least this one had a Christmas print. I knew why she hid her body so much...
"Hey, brat!" I greeted, kissing her blush-covered cheek. "You came!"
"Ew!" Isa said, pretending to be disgusted by my kiss. "You're kissing me with that Josiah-kissed mouth!"
"Yeah, and the way they've been making out, maybe Ana's mouth has been in some 'darker' places too," Bernardo teased, causing us all to giggle.
"Oh, are you jealous, huh?" I asked, wrapping my arms around his waist and covering his face with kisses.
"Get outta here! You don't even have what I like!" Bernardo joked, pretending to push me away but then hugging me and giving me a kiss on the top of my head.
"Stop hugging my woman, okay!" Josiah threatened, pulling me away from his friend's arms and pressing my back against his chest again. "Hey, killer doll? How's it going?"
"Screw you!" Isa replied, feigning a scowl and crossing her arms. "I liked the woman you took us to for the tattoo, Jow. I'm already itching to get another one, besides the 'brat' one Ana and I got last week."
"Remind me later to send you her number, Isabela."
We walked together towards the table. Josiah, seated beside me, kept trying to sneak bites, but I held his fingers back, reminding him to wait for everyone else. He looked so handsome, having agreed to wear the red polo shirt his mom bought him. Marta had asked me to convince him to wear it and finally ditch the black clothes he loved... It worked; I just asked between a few kisses the night before, and my boyfriend agreed. It was easier than I imagined.

We started talking about our plans for the next year. I shared my dream of studying Literature, playfully pinching Josiah when he began reciting one of my poems about him, mocking the “black hair that made me feel like I was kissing Hades himself.”
While Isabela chattered on about her mother not letting her study Music like she wanted, I noticed that Josiah and Bernardo were exchanging strange looks. I asked them both what they were hiding, but my phone buzzed at that moment, and when I looked at the screen, there was a message from my aunt:
“Come here!”
I gave Jow a quick kiss, telling him my aunt had called me. My boyfriend wanted to come along, but I dismissed him. Maybe she wasn’t feeling well, and bringing Josiah could make things worse. I didn’t know what was going on with Aunt Marina. I even thought about suggesting she see a psychologist, but I ended up not saying anything.
I told Marta I was going home, and my mother-in-law insisted I take a container of French toast to my aunt. She wanted to pack a bit of everything from the dinner, but I declined. My aunt hardly ate anything, but she never refused sweets.
I walked through the streets of the neighborhood, with the container in my hands, thinking about why my aunt hadn’t said what she wanted in the message. She wasn’t one to send messages; she preferred to talk on the phone. But Marina had been so different lately, nothing would surprise me anymore.
When I was turning onto our street, I saw a huge moving truck passing by the corner, making noise with its weight on the pavement. How strange... Who moves out on Christmas night?
When I opened the gate to our house, I noticed something was off. Why was everything dark? She always left the front porch light on. I felt an urge to turn back, but fearing that something had gone wrong, I ran inside, turning on the living room light and... I dropped the container with the French toast on the floor.
My God!
No!
I felt my world crumbling... again!
“No!” I whimpered, running my hands through my hair, feeling overwhelmed by so many heavy emotions at once.
The living room was completely empty. There was nothing left inside the house, no furniture, no mercy, no consideration. I wandered through the rooms with a shattered heart, crying and feeling like I really didn’t deserve to be loved, that people didn’t care about me.
That moving truck belonged to my aunt. How could she leave like this? Holding onto the walls to keep from collapsing under the low blood pressure, I reached the kitchen and noticed a brown envelope on the counter. I tried to muster the strength not to faint as I grabbed the documents from inside the envelope.
There were so many things... All of my documents, the deed to the house, the account details with my parents’ death pension, the information for a savings account with a lot of money, a document stating that I was emancipated, where my aunt had given me the right to take care of myself as an adult, to be completely responsible for myself.
“Wretch!” I screamed, throwing the papers as far as I could.
A white envelope flew out from the tangle of documents, floating in the air before landing on the floor. Furious, I walked over to it, picked it up, and pulled out the cursed letter in her handwriting, dissolving into tears as I read it.