Rhea couldn't produce any sound when parting her lips.
"Have you gone deaf, Rhea? Who made you get wet all of a sudden?" Victor scowled at her through the phone.
"It was you, Victor," Rhea responded quickly. "Trust me, but I got wet thinking about you and everything you've always done to my body," she lied smoothly and sharply bit her inner cheek.
"You must think I'm as dumb as you, Rhea," Victor scoffed. "You might have forgotten, but I haven't—when I told you to shut your eyes and try to recall everything I've always done to you, you pulled that shit and didn't even fucking water for me at all," Victor said, sounding as frustrated as he felt.
Rhea squeezed her eyes shut in shame as she recalled that night he was talking about.
"So now you want me to believe that you got wet for me? That's impossible, Rhea, and that's why I'm breaking up with you. I know how much you like sex and good for you, no man in his right senses would ignore your body, so go fuck the man who made you get wet and please don't call me again. This is my last warning to you."
With that, the line disconnected, and her shoulders slumped as if the world had truly come to an end.
Then, against her better judgment, a cry ripped from deep inside her.
She wasn't crying because she was heartbroken about the breakup but because, in all her years of dating men, no man had come close to Victor in how he satisfied her. He was exactly the one who made her love sex, but it was so unfortunate that she couldn't even get wet for him.
She sniffed and wiped her face as she looked up at her door and drilled holes into it with her glare as if the person in her mind were standing there.
How could he make her get wet when he had not even touched her?
She gulped as the pain of losing Victor slowly faded, then was replaced with her heart thudding wildly at the thought of seeing the person again.
Then she yelped softly and discarded the thought as she jumped in her bed and lay down, burying her face in the pillow.
"I don't want to see him. I don't want to see him," she said with a shake of her head into the pillow. "Only God knows what I'm going to say to him when I see him again."
She kept murmuring strings of curses at him, but her heart wasn't acquiescing to everything she was saying, and even her face held a soft glow as she recalled the short moment they had spent together.
The following morning…
Rhea opened the door with a slow creak, then peered her head out first, glancing to her left and right before stepping out quietly as a feather.
She was about to shut the door in slow motion again when she sighed and let her shoulders drop.
"Why am I acting like a thief in my house? Did you not tell yourself that you're not afraid to see him again?" she asked herself with an eye roll, then shut the door with a bang.
Then she bit her lower lip and readjusted her brown shoulder bag as she began walking down the hallway toward the stairs. As she descended the stairs, her gaze kept darting around as if looking for somebody.
When she got down to the living room, she looked toward the dining area and found no one there. Then she looked around again, but there was no sight of him.
"What? Is he still in bed?" she murmured with a huff. "What a lazy husband my mom got for herself," she said with a shake of her head before glancing up at the hallway, then walking out of the house.
However, upon getting outside, she was a bit stunned to see him sitting in the front garden shirtless, painting on a canvas in only black pants.
Rhea didn't even glance at the drawing twice, as her whole attention was on his body. His back was straight and wide. His waist was thin, and he did not have much flab. It connected to the compact hip, and the outline was balanced and fit.
What a body!
Everything inside her devoured each line of his juggernaut's body as she swallowed hard.
As if sensing her presence, Adrian tilted his head and smiled at her with a charming gaze. Their eyes met, and it felt like tiny gymnasts were dancing in her stomach.
"Mornin', darlin' daughter." Adrian greeted her with a smile before turning back to his drawing, using a small brush on it.
Rhea scoffed as she drew closer to him and wrapped her hands around her chest.
"Mom told me you need some shopping, but it never crossed my mind that you would need it so badly to the point of not having a shirt on this early morning," she said with as much sarcasm as she could gather, a flicker of irritation passing over her face.
"Now she's mad 'cause she seen me without my shirt." Adrian said with a laugh in his voice without looking up at her.
"You wish, bro. I just don't want the housekeepers seeing—" she paused mid-sentence, and Adrian looked at her face. "I mean, I don't want them gossiping nonsense among themselves," she finished saying.
"But they didn't pay my body no mind at all. Soon as they seen me this mornin', they just turned on back to their own business." Adrian said with a shrug as he dipped the brush into the palette of paints on the stool beside him.
"What? So you mean they have seen you like this?" she seemed to ask unintentionally, but Adrian looked back at her and nodded anyway.
Then she exhaled sharply. "Now stand up and wear something. Let's go buy you some clothes," she ordered in a stern voice. She didn't want to admit that she was not happy with the housekeepers seeing his body.
Smiling, Adrian rose to his feet. "You really fixin' to buy me some clothes, or you plannin' on gettin' rid of me?" he asked in a teasing manner, and Rhea scoffed as she met his eyes.
"I can multitask, you know. Buy clothes and consider getting rid of you thereafter." She stared at him heatedly and told him, "It's the least I can do for my mom's husband. Now hurry up before I change my mind," she added, then without sparing him another glance, she started walking away.
Adrian just smiled to himself as he admired how she strode away fast in those eight-inch black heels, then headed into the house.
Meanwhile, Rhea clenched her fists as she stood beside her car in the garage. She looked so mad and upset as she considered firing all the housekeepers. As she thought, her fists remained clenched so tightly that her nails cut into the flesh of her palm.
Instantly feeling the sharp pain brought her back to reality, and then she fumed. "They are all dead."