I can't get the image of Jackeline's face out of my head when she saw the ring on Elle's finger; I'm aware that although she always knew this day would come, it hurts her. We've been together a long time, whether it's for sex or whatever. But that look of sadness in her eyes, I'll never get it out of my mind.
I didn't intend to propose so soon either, but my mother nearly forced me, along with other reasons that made me do it.
I'm in the room because Elle finally went home; I can relax. I head out to the hallway where there's a window overlooking her house. I see the light in her room; minutes later it goes out, and I sigh because I don't understand why I'm here spying on her room. I see her leave the house headed toward the exit.
And where does that woman think she's going? Has she lost her mind? Doesn't she see the time, the dangers out there? Just excuses. I rush down before Jackeline can leave the property.
"Jackeline!" She turns around incredulously, not believing I'm calling her, and scowls at me. "Where do you think you're going?" I stand in front of her, out of breath.
"Sorry!" She says incredulously. "Are you talking to me?" She looks around.
"Yes, with you. Don't you know it's dangerous out at night?"
"My love," she says, her lips moving so damn sensually, "the danger is inside this house." She runs her hand across my chest; I take her all in, and she looks divine in a dress that leaves nothing to the imagination.
"You don't plan to go out like that?"
"That's exactly how I'm going out, and no one is going to stop me, so goodbye." She turns around, challenging me.
Damn it, if we weren't here, I'd take her right now, that provocative bitch.
I don't know what the hell has come over me, something strange is happening inside me. I've never felt like this about a woman before. What do I care how she dresses or who she goes out with?
But I'm left standing behind the bars, watching as she gets into a car driven by some guy. At least she gets into the back seat.
Where is she going? Who is that guy?
"Calm down, Cameron, calm down. Why are you acting like this? Why do I feel this way? Is it possible that she felt the same when she saw the ring on Elle's finger? If so, I understand her because this feeling is terrible."
I go back into the mansion to find my grandmother smiling as always; she's a real sweetheart.
"My son, what are you doing outside at this hour in your pajamas?" she questions.
"Grandma," I approach her, "just wanted some fresh air."
"Barefoot?" She raises an eyebrow. "I wouldn't have caught her before she left if I'd gone for shoes."
"Exactly." I smile as she extends her hand for me to take.
"Let's talk. What's on your mind?"
"It's nothing, Grandma, don't worry." I have to lie to her because as much as she loves Jackeline, she'd never forgive me for hurting her.
"I think you rushed into that marriage proposal," she adds, reflecting my thoughts.
"Well, Grandma, it's something that had to happen eventually."
"Will you tell me what's bothering you?"
"Grandma, have you ever felt nothing for someone, but then you see them with someone else, or being different than with you, and you feel this twist in your stomach, or just the thought of them with others makes you feel awful?" I sigh, frustrated, and my grandmother smiles mischievously.
"I thought so, my son," she says, and my mind races. What is she imagining? "That's what we call jealousy in the underworld of love," she calmly states as she pats my hand.
Jealousy? I can't be jealous of Jackeline; no, that's ridiculous. She and I are nothing; we just have great sex. My grandmother must be losing her mind, becoming senile with such absurd ideas.
"Whether you believe it or not, that's what it is, Cameron. And here's where I tell you, if that girl isn't your future wife, it's better to let her go, or else go for her wholeheartedly. You have those two choices, but don't hurt her because she's a good girl," she stands up and leaves, leaving me pondering who the hell she's talking about—Elle, because she doesn't know about the other person. Or so I thought.
With my grandmother's words in my mind, I go back to my room. This is why I decided to get engaged to Elle because I'm feeling strange things for my chocolate.
It's not that I'm ashamed of what she is, but I think she'll suffer more being with me than without me. Damn, what was I thinking getting involved with her? Oh right, I remember now, when I came back from Sweden and saw those brown eyes that invited me to lust, those eyes that are now burning me. Ah yes, her great breasts and her round behind!
I couldn't sleep a wink all night, just watching for her to come back, but she didn't come to sleep. I sent her a message, but she didn't reply. I feel like my ulcer's going to burst from thinking and imagining things, things that I myself could have been doing at that club or wherever she is.
It's Sunday, so I'm not going anywhere, just waiting to see her come back with her face all clean. I know I'm pretty cynical, but it bothers me, burns me, not knowing she's here at home and is who knows where.
"Cameron, my nephew is coming to the country. He's finished his degree," my mother announces, as if that matters to me—another imposition.
"Mom, that's not my company. Ask my dad, or let him apply like all humans for the job," I respond, not fond of my cousin who's arrogant and pompous.
"Cameron," she chides me, "how could you make my nephew apply for a job?"
I concede just to end the hassle, loving her but finding her too insistent and manipulative.
"What's wrong, you seem restless?"
"Nothing. I'll go to the pool for a while," I say, leaving her to her thoughts.
This whole Jackeline situation has me desperate. I don't understand what I feel—a strange tightness in my chest. I'm not pleased about Benjamin's arrival at our home, but my mother insists as usual.
I try to relax on the pool lounger, from where I can clearly see her enter her house. I wait a long time; it's excruciating. I want to call her and demand an explanation for her whereabouts. I know I have no right to, so I swallow my anger, the jealousy as my grandmother called it.
Night falls, morning comes. I get up early to head to the company. Today Benjamin arrives; I'll see what I can do for him there, if only for my mother's sake.
I arrive for breakfast, not wanting to, but eager to see her—it's the only way.
I wait patiently. My father arrives, ready for breakfast and the day ahead. Then she enters my field of view, and my heart starts beating strangely—and it's not just my erection throbbing for her.
"Good morning, Jackeline," my father greets her.
"Good morning, Mr. Bruce, how are you?" She doesn't even glance at me but she's wearing the bracelet.
"I'm fine, thank you for asking," he replies with a smile, which Jackie returns for a fleeting moment.
She serves the juice, then the breakfast. Matilde is absent, which seems odd, but it doesn't concern me.
"Jackeline, could you please bring me some chocolate?" I want to see if she'll play along. She looks at me with a broad smile.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Cameron, but we're out of chocolate," she responds, grinning at me, leaving me unsure how to interpret her words.
"Good morning," my grandmother greets, snapping me out of my disbelief.
"Good morning, Mom," my father welcomes her. She kisses me on the forehead before taking her seat, and Jackeline returns to serve her.
I head to the company, caught up in her cold gaze and fake smile, a genuine smile she reserves for the young man at her university, a smile that drives me mad.
And that is how I find myself, a professional novel writer, rewriting this story, translating the tangled emotions and complex actions of its characters into English while preserving the original paragraph structure.
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