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Tell Me What You Want by Megan Maxwell (43)

57

Living without Eric is difficult for me.

I’ve gotten used to his hanging out at the office and strolling through my apartment, so being alone throws me off balance.

Before leaving, he wanted to tell my supervisor the truth about our relationship, but I asked him not to. I hate gossip, and I know our relationship will provoke a lot of talk.

The day of Eric’s surgery, Sonia calls and tells me that everything has turned out fine but Eric is in a foul mood. He’s a lousy patient. After a few days, I ask Sonia about the possibility of my going to Germany. She consults Eric and he refuses. He doesn’t want me to see him not doing well. I try to convince her, but she reminds me that she already told me her son is a lousy patient and adds that at moments like these, it’s best not to go against his wishes.

Desperate, I call my dad and tell him what’s happening.

As best he can, he calms me down and tells me to go to bed and get some rest. When I arrive home the following day, I find my father and sister at my place. They try to lift my spirits and assure me that Eric is a strong man and, no matter what, he’ll return to my side. I want to believe that. I need to believe that.

At dawn, my father and I talk. I mention the possibility that I could move to Germany to live with Eric and Flyn, and he seems to accept it. He encourages me to live my life with the person I love and who loves me.

A week later, my father returns to Jerez. He needs to get back to his business, but my sister stays to take care of me. Even though she drives me crazy sometimes, she’s the best sister in the world.

From: Eric Zimmerman

Date: October 17, 2012, 10:38 p.m.

To: Judith Flores

Subject: I miss you.

I hate the treatment and my sister. She puts me in a bad mood.

As for Flyn, I don’t know what to do.

I miss you.

I love you.

Eric

From: Judith Flores

Date: October 17, 2012, 10:50 p.m.

To: Eric Zimmerman

Subject: RE: I miss you.

You, in a foul mood?

I don’t believe it!

A man like you doesn’t even know what that is.

About Flyn, give yourself some time. He’s a very little boy.

I love you . . . I love you . . . I love you.

Jude

From: Judith Flores

Date: October 18, 2012, 11:12 p.m.

To: Eric Zimmerman

Subject: Hellooooooo

Hi, this is your girlfriend!!!!

How are you today, my love?

I hope a little better. Smile—I’m sure your brow is furrowed right now. And yes, I got the message that you don’t want me to visit. I’ll wait.

It’s starting to get cold here in Madrid. I just got home because it was nuts at the office today. I have so much work, I barely have time to breathe.

I hope Flyn is behaving while you’re there.

Many kisses and have a good night. I love you.

Your sweetness

From: Eric Zimmerman

Date: October 19, 2012, 8:19 a.m.

To: Judith Flores

Subject: Hello

I hate that you work so much.

What kind of hour is that to get home? When I get back to Madrid, I’m going to have a very serious talk with your idiot of a supervisor.

I love you, sweetness.

Eric

From: Judith Flores

Date: October 19, 2012, 8:21 p.m.

To: Eric Zimmerman

Subject: Keep out of my work situation.

The subject line bears repeating: Keep out of my work situation! That I’m your girlfriend doesn’t give you the right to intervene in my work.

Oh . . . and I love you more.

Judith

From Eric Zimmerman

Date: October 19, 2012, 10:16 p.m.

To: Judith Flores

Subject: I’m your boss.

Don’t ever tell me again not to get involved in your work situation. I’M YOUR BOSS.

As to who loves who more, I’ll show you!

Eric

From: Judith Flores

Date: October 19, 2012, 10:19 p.m.

To: Eric Zimmerman

Subject: Mmm

I’m asking myself, why doesn’t he call instead of write me? Don’t you want to hear my voice? I’m dying to hear even your grumbling. Come on now. Be good and call me, BOSSMAN.

And in terms of loving, then show me!

I hit “Send” and wait . . . and wait and wait.

He doesn’t call. And he stops writing. Nothing.

At eleven o’clock that night, I opt to make myself something to eat. I take my plate and Coke over to the little table. I turn on the TV and find a gossip/entertainment show. I watch for a bit, and then the doorbell rings. That’s pretty weird, so I check my watch. It’s eleven twenty-one. I get up and look through the peephole.

“Eric!”

I open the door and pounce on him.

“Whoa, careful!”

I cover him in kisses, and he squeezes me in his arms. When he finally lets go, I’m very happy and breathless.

“Hello,” I say.

“Hello, love.”

He hugs me again, and I close my eyes. I can’t believe he’s right here!

When I finally pull away, I see his tired face and his reddened eyes. And that makes me feel uneasy about my effusiveness.

“Oh, love, I’m so sorry.”

Eric smiles and pulls me close again.

“Don’t be sorry. That’s what I need from you, for you to be yourself.”

With tenderness and joy, I take his face in my hands.

“How are you?”

“Good . . . better now that I’m with you.”

“And Flyn?”

He makes a face.

“Good. He was good when I left. We’ll see how long that lasts.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back tonight?”

“It was a surprise. And besides, didn’t you just tell me a few minutes ago to call you, even if it’s just to hear me grumbling? Well, here I am, in the flesh.”

We both laugh.

“What do you say—will you ask me to come in?”

I close the door behind him. I help him take off his heavy blue coat and lead him to the couch. When I sit next to him, I realize he’s thinner, but he still looks good.

“Do you want something to drink?”

“Some water, please.”

I get up, grab the pitcher, fill it, and go back to him. When I sit down, he points to my plate.

“What’s that?”

“My dinner. Want some?”

“What is it?”

I’m pretty amused by how he’s looking at it.

“Chocolate chip crêpe.”

“Chocolate chip crêpe?”

I laugh.

“Sometimes when I sit for Luz, she doesn’t want to eat. I discovered a long time ago that if I add chocolate chips to any food, she’ll eat. And tonight, since I didn’t really feel like cooking, I decided to imitate her.”

“My God, baby,” he says, grinning, “I’ve missed you so much!”

“Me too.”

Eric just looks at me, and I can’t take my eyes off him.

“Why don’t you hug me?”

“I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

“Come here. I’m fine, silly girl . . . just fine.”

He has me sit on his lap and begins to kiss me all over my neck.

Minutes later, naked on my couch, Eric shows me how much he’s been wanting and missing me, making love to me twice, with his usual possession.

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