Marcy (10)




Care for their children at bedtime, directing their preparations rituals, kiss and embrace them once they were lying in his bunk and give them good night, was what more fulfilled her life.

-Mom, don't worry about anything, when I grow up I will defend the wicked! They began to play with two plastic swords to medieval knights. But Marcy was not spirit of tolerating theirs excitement and sent them to sleep. There were silent protests but Marcy with little patience, turned off the light and waited to hear their breaths matching, announcing the dream. She dined a light snack and turned on the TV in his room, to distract from their confused thoughts, more black doubts; the female voice had recorded in his brain, was installed in his heart as a slab. Again, in a jacket she had found the ticket of an expensive perfume, which was not for her. And so, was more often. He had another woman; she did not want to deceive, no doubt, for more time that she suspected. There was always another.

Manele accused her of jealous and he had reason. She could not stand the looks that threw him the companions of the faculty when they were dating and walked hand in hand and, even worse, when the first visits to the wine-growing property of in-laws met the neighbour, so feminine that did not seem a women's field, wearing great guy and outfit and appearing there, as soon as they put the foot on the farm.

Marcy acknowledged something sickly in her jealousy. She recalled the words of his mother: "At night always looks everything worse than it is". She was exaggerating, there was nothing to fear. When he was on his journey was that other women could like him, but he was a family man, despite being so attractive, why was going to be unfaithful and jeopardize his home? He was too smart to get involved in problems... She admired so much that she always was a justification. She got up from bed and pulled out the contents of the bag had left, arriving, abandoned at the entrance. She collected his hair in a high bun and is amused testing her clothes more sexy, with the new coat on top. She would complement the outfit with boots and discrete jewels of design that had purchased recently. She was powerful, secure of their femininity. If she remained strong, nothing and no one could break their love. She picked the phone, searched for the key's last call and, instinctively, she struck. It was only one o´clock in the morning, Manele picked his phone on the other side.

-Marcy, I am asleep, I'm exhausted -he said, while she recorded any suspicious sound. She not heard anything more than the sticky voice of her husband.

-Sorry, honey, I just call to wish you good night.

She had heard what she wanted to hear, and hung up. Once more his unfounded panic had played a dirty trick. Their fears were transformed into a sweet placidity, which took her to sleep as soon as she fell out in bed.



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