"You're a damn equalizer," she tries to slap me again, and I stop her, but I don't stop there. Just as she disrespected me, I feel entitled to do the same and without thinking, I slap her, leaving her paralyzed. "Don't try to touch me for the rest of your fucking life, I warned you, I won't let myself be humiliated, and I won't let a wretch like you lay a hand on me. I don't owe you anything! I don't owe you shit and let me tell you something, your son enjoys having sex with me, he follows me, he wants to be with me and neither you nor anyone else will take that away from him." "Damn it! I swear you'll pay for this, you'll go to jail, damn it, you just hit me," she screams furiously, but I don't give it any importance because she's the one interrupting my peace of mind. "You have to stay away from my little boy, you're a whore and I don't want you near him, you disgust me, you're a dirty woman and probably have HIV!" This woman never ceases to surprise me. First, she discriminates a

+ Mmm... how good. Everything is silent, with the lights off. I am very comfortable and warm in my bed. I move my body a little and slowly open my eyes completely. I have no idea what happened, my head hurts a lot. My disoriented brain searches among its recent memories. Damn, it! I don't remember anything at all. "Finally, the drunkard of the house woke up," my eyes open wider, I sit up abruptly upon hearing my aunt's voice. Oh, no! My head is starting to hurt again. "Aunt?" I sit down and lean back against the headboard of the bed. It's too early to argue, I want to get up to greet her and ask her when she entered my room or what time she returned from her short trip. "Don't you remember?" she questions with her eyes wide open, "I knew I had to come back, I had been told many things, but I didn't believe them because I always thought you were one of the responsible girls, but now it's clear to me that you're not." "Nonsense," I counter. "Shut up," she protests, "the young ma

The elevator doors open just as I'm about to take a step forward, and I freeze as I see Harper, Harry's friend. It takes me a couple of minutes to compose myself and realize that I'm acting like a fool. I take a step forward and greet him with a nod. He smiles and shakes his head, then tells me that I must have had a good time yesterday and that I must be miraculously standing rather than in bed with a hangover. I respond in the same tone and gestures, saying that everything was fine and that it's not a bad thing to try and be someone else for a change, to be that free spirit you've always dreamed of. Mentally, I applaud myself because it seems that I've become a poet full of inspiration and imaginative fantasies. "You're right, and I won't deny that I had fun, especially since you got under my old friend's skin." "Hey, you were supposed to be on your way out," I complain as the elevator doors close and he doesn't leave. "No, I think I forgot something in Harry's office." He's

"Let's go," I hear the pair of crazy women whispering to each other, and I raise my gaze to look at Harry. I put my hand over my mouth, trying not to laugh and hoping that we won't be discovered. The good thing about these cubicles is that it's difficult to see who's inside, and they can't see our shoes, especially Harry's. "Don't remind me. Watch out, Alexandra the slut probably already sucked the boss's dick. Remember, she's the company's whore," they exclaim passionately. I close my eyes and try to breathe deeply. I look at them again when I feel Harry's hand on my cheek. His eyes say more than a thousand words; he's comforting me. Suddenly, he signals me to sit on his lap. "That's true, I won't deny it. That woman has a sign on her forehead that says 'I'm the sluttiest slut!'" he says, laughing. "Just imagine, the poor thing is probably afraid that her own friend will screw her boyfriend. Believe me, even I would be on alert because that woman is a whore who doesn't respect any

+ Like a crazy person, I managed to get out of the restroom, leaving Harry with his secretary. As I left the cubicles, the lady averted her gaze, I think to spare me further embarrassment than I already felt. In a whisper, I thanked her and then rushed out like a bat out of hell, hoping that Pamela had finished fucking Marcos by now. Unintentionally, a smile appeared on my face because I believe I understand that Pamela has been doing everything she does because she's in love with Marcos. There's also the possibility that they were working together to extract information from me that they shouldn't be seeking. My head is spinning around and around, all because of what that pair has been doing. I don't object, as I'm not interested in either one of them, it's all because of what they're doing to me. I'm grateful that the hallways are completely empty; it seems those women learned their lesson after Harry's secretary reprimanded them. Hey! Why am I not thinking about how it was wit