Sunday Lunch

Virgínia

I knew that this visit to Murilo's grandmother's house could not be as pleasant as he confidently believed it would be. I already had this feeling from the first moment he suggested the idea of a family lunch. And the fact that it was a huge mansion ten times more luxurious than Murilo's apartment only served to confirm that initial impression.

But the greatest proof of all that I was really right had just materialized in front of us, with a huge fake smile on his face and wearing a stiletto heel that could easily become a powerful weapon, as thin as it was.

But I would not let myself be intimidated by that poisonous snake, and I cared little that we were in Murilo's family home. I would not allow her, or anyone else, to try to make me feel diminished in front of them.