Codename: Úrsula

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The Common Friends's Wedding

At the entrance of the venue on that beautiful Saturday afternoon, an easel supported a big canvas previously painted with a beautiful tree by the bride and groom. The guests were invited to write something on it. Elena chose a green pen and wrote.

Half an hour later, by the easel, Lorenzo localized Elena inside. He knew Veitena would not be there. Cecile and Louis were neither rich nor influent in Green Palms. In turn, Elena watched as he wrote his name on the canvas.

Elena struggled to keep her eyes away from Lorenzo. I wish I could kiss his mouth right away… Oh my God, he is so hot! Lorenzo observed the semi-formal dress code in a dark blue suit with very light grey shirt, matching tie and formal shoes. Whenever they exchanged glances, Elena shivered looking at his bright eyes and tempting mouth and chin.

She sat close to other women friends from Cecile, controlling herself to not look too much at Lorenzo. Meanwhile, Lorenzo controlled himself to not stare Elena. Every man in this room must be as mesmerized as I am, including the ones with their female partners! Didn’t she have something less provocative to dress? Elena was on a full skirted midi dress with a V-shaped neckline. Although the cut of the dress was properly conservative, the curves of her voluptuous breasts, waist and hips were beautifully highlighted by the competent dressmaking, the lightness of the fabric and the fineness of the straps. She looked spectacular in that shade of teal. Matching silver clutch, silver closed high heeled stilettos and discrete silver accessories gave the final touch of elegance and sensuality. Did she have to provoke in stilettos? With aesthetic sensitivity, Lorenzo had a keen sense of observation of women. Elena knew how to walk in heels. Many Brazilian women wore high-heeled shoes without any idea whatsoever on how to balance themselves on them. Elena was one of the notable exceptions.

During the ceremony, they could not help exchanging glances and messages praising each other and also acknowledging that it would have to be this way.

The only exchange of words in person was at the table where they served themselves, when he whispered to have written his name very close to hers on the canvas. Elena rejoiced.

During the cocktail, Elena talked joyfully with the other women guests looking at him sometimes; Lorenzo kept her under his watch too. He was in the sight of countless women who attended the wedding alone. After some drinks, he enjoyed the dance floor surrounded by them. Elena loved to dance, but dancing far from Lorenzo annoyed her a little. Or could it be the number of women around him? I feel a little pissed… Am I under pre-menstrual syndrome? She made quick calculations to confirm that she would be emotionally sensitive over the next four days. I must not impose effects of my hormonal fluctuations on Lorenzo...

The new custom in Brazilian parties was to get rid of high heels as soon as the dancing began. Elena always kept hers, despising the act to put comfort above elegance, either as barefoot women or as men who stripped jackets and ties off and, as if this was not enough, rolled up sleeves. As elegant as in the beginning of the ceremony, Elena kept attracting the gaze of many men and women. She did not feel in the mood to talk with any man, though, even after having noticed a young woman rubbing herself against Lorenzo on the dance floor. The young lady seemed to be giving some ownership message to all other women around Lorenzo and he seemed very pleased. No doubt Lorenzo felt a sultan there.

Before the wedding, through the cell phone messaging app, Lorenzo and Elena had arranged to spend the night at Lorenzo’s after the party. They would set the time depending on the quality of the DJ and dance floor. So, they should keep looking their cell phones from times to times. Almost two in the morning, Elena felt annoyed by the openness of Lorenzo to that young woman. She saw her seducing him, asking a cigarette in the open area where he smoked, rubbing herself against him there too. Am I jealous? Yes, I am. Terribly. Despite this, she did not consider fair to message him to go home. Looking at the Codename Úrsula cell phone, there was no message from Lorenzo yet. The young woman was very talkative. I don’t have to see this. The pre-menstrual syndrome did not help, at all. She walked away from his sight to spare herself from anger.

A gentleman invited her to the dance floor. She did not want to dance with anybody else but Lorenzo; however, she accepted and, although somewhat embarrassed, she hoped Lorenzo could see her and see her well. The song was beautiful, the gentleman was polite and she enjoyed it increasingly as the song played. As she did not want to use the gentleman to provoke jealousy, after that one dance she thanked him and left the dance floor. She did not check if Lorenzo saw her or if he was still with that young lady. She verified the cell phone quickly: no messages. Quietly, she said goodbye to the women friends who were with her during the party and left.

Even before entering the car, she was crying copiously, enough to preclude her from seeing ahead. She had to wipe those tears to manage to drive away from there as fast as possible. If he wants to be Don Juan, I won’t torture myself by watching it…

Forty minutes later, at home, she got out of shower with red eyes of crying. All make up had been removed and she had just put her nightgown on when a message from Lorenzo arrived.

‘Where are you!?!’

‘I am going to bed.’

‘To bed?! I just arrived home! Didn’t we agree that we would set a time to meet here?’

She was glad to know he looked for her. ‘We did. But there was no message at two o’clock and I was tired.’

‘Why didn’t you message me, then?!’

‘Because you were very busy in very good company. Good night.’

As soon as Elena, weeping again, put the cell phone to charge, it rang. She could not hide the happiness of seeing Lorenzo’s name on the screen. She cleared her throat to be able to speak:

“Hello, Lorenzo.”

“Elena my girl, are you jealous?” his voice was not angry or harsh; on the contrary, it was tender.

“I reserve the right to remain silent.”

“Oh, my God, you are jealous!” he was laughing, “Cute!”.

Elena wondered in what universe jealousy would be cute. She rationally did not accept it; however, she could not help feeling jealous...

“Please come to me, Elena and we’ll talk.”

“I don’t want.”

“OK, then; I’m driving to you.”

“No, Lorenzo, please don’t!” she took the threatening messages from her ex-husband seriously. Lorenzo should not drive to her house.

“Come to me then.”

Feeling glad and infatuated, she put the volleyball suit on, tied the hair up and drove to those nine blocks from Lorenzo’s.

When Elena closed the main entrance door after her and climbed the stairs, she did not notice that he waited for her downstairs. He followed her and showed the roses:

“This is for the most beautiful woman in that wedding and on these stairs!” he said, with those glittering eyes and marvelous smile.

Both laughed of Lorenzo’s joke.

Elena covered her face with her hands, embarrassed due to the signs of crying:

“I’m looking horrible...”

Lorenzo ignored her comment.

“There is no place to buy roses in Green Palms at this hour, but these are for you.”

When he handed the rose arrangement of the wedding table to her, he embraced her tight:

“Elena, didn’t we settle that we would spend the night together? I do keep my word.” his tender voice filled Elena with joy.

“But, the way you got along with that girl, I felt I did not have to interrupt.”

“You should have messaged me because we had agreed so, Elena!”

Elena got out of his embrace to look right into his eyes and say:

“I’d rather die crying of jealousy than prevent you from the freedom that you longed for during forty-six years of your life! I refuse to put you in other prison cell! I read in your e-mails how much you wanted to exist as person! It is not I who will deny it to you, even if you wanna be a manwhore!”

Paralyzed in dazzle and fascination, dominated by that feeling he had only for her, Lorenzo looked, in silence, at the woman who put his cravings and dreams before her wishes.

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