His dramatic alarm at 10 am should’ve been the end of this encounter. To me, it was a clear one-night-stand, to him, it was just an opportunity to get to know each other better.
With nothing more than a couple -or actually more than that- of beers shared the night before and our naked bodies, he woke up to pick up his phone and stop the alarm. He came over to the bed and asked: May I have your number? I responded with a cold look on my face: Why would you want my number? -Why not? Then the question is: What do you want it for? You said you had a wife… Yes, I do. And a 5-year-old kid -he said completing the sentence. But I can still have your contact. Yes, it’s me who doesn’t want to share it. I promise I won’t be constantly texting you. I don’t want to bother, just want to have your number.
I don’t want to give you my number. At that moment, I was invaded by absolute peace, a massive headache and body laid over white sheets. He sat by my side and started asking me questions about different subjects. After a while he asked for my last name. Spelled out. Are you gonna Google me? Should I? I don’t know Am I going to learn more about you? Plenty, though everything is in Spanish, so you’re not going to get much. Then I will surely look you up.
We looked at each other silently, as if discovering each other. Breaking up that peace he continued: What day is your birthday? May 14th, you? 21st. I stared at him in doubt. Of May? Yes. Odd… my brother’s is same day in June. The doubles philosophy of Salomon Sellam invade my mind. Do you know if you are Taurus or Gemini? Gemini. When I was a kid I thought I was Taurus, but with time I figured I was more of a Gemini. Are you like two people in one? Yes. Why do I even bother asking? It’s very clear. He has a wife and a kid in Belgium and he’s spending the night with me in Madrid. He interrupts my thoughts, I have a last question for you, I promise it’s my last one: May I have your number?
No, I replied smiling. Please. I’m going to be honest with you. It’s hard for me to meet someone amazing -cus you are amazing and interesting- and loose contact. So, you have an agenda of all the women you’ve fucked?… Ha! No! I mean, I haven’t slept with that many women in my life, nor do I have their numbers. Are you lying to me? No, I don’t have motives to lie to you. I know. But when I met you, your friends said you were a liar, I’m still not sure if they were messing with me or not.
Please, let me have your number. Why? Are you going to make me famous? His eyebrows spelled: confused. Uhm, no. Ha! So what do you need it for? To send you a happy birthday message on your day, he said winking his eye at me. Thank you, but I don’t consider it necessary. Please, I really wouldn’t like to loose this contact. I laughed, I believe you don’t need my contact.
He left the bed, went to the toilet and started dressing in front of me. Once ready he came back to my bed and started kissing and caressing me. Please, may I have your number? He whispered.
Six hours later I had a message from him in my phone:
Hi, thank you for those sweet moments we shared that night. Take care and send me news every now and then. Bisous
This was my belgian affair