How She Draped My Net Around Her Ch. 10

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I woke up by the vibrating hum of my mobile phone. I quickly reached to turn it off, and then laid back again, watching the ceiling; Even though my wine-intake had only been a fraction of Anita’s, the pain in my head throbbed. I could imagine Anita being so much worse… Did I really have to get up?…

I waited a moment, making sure Anita had not woken up by the alarm, and then I carefully left the bed. I put on my glasses and bath robe, splashed some water in my face and took my time on the toilet. Then, I put water and paracetamol at the nightstand next to Anita, and moved downstairs.

I made my coffee and turned on the laptop, where indeed I found an E-mail with a new version of the paper. I was annoyed to see no reaction from her supervisor – was he slacking?

I quickly scanned the content of the paper, and couldn’t detect any obvious issues. Then, with full confidence, I started to study the manuscript in full detail.

Most of the introduction had remained the same – no need to change that what is good already. Also the results were straight forward – adding extra data didn’t ask for major changes. The discussion looked fine, although I did disagree with some details. I guessed that the student had tried to follow the recommendations of one of the reviewers, but it seemed like she hadn’t really grasped the message – I couldn’t blame her under this pressure of time – and now that part of the discussion got lost in vague sentences and strange explanations. With the document settings on ‘Trace Changes’, I modified it to my liking, adding some comments on the side explaining my motives and intentions.

A bit further, it seemed like she tried to include the discussion of her previous version, based on incorrect data – perhaps her supervisor had insisted on this explanation, but with the correct data, it was totally out of place. I deleted that part, and smoothened the remaining text.

The rest of the discussion was undisputable, but I felt something nagging in the back of my head. I stared at the figures for ten – twelve minutes, delving my mind, when it occurred to me that the results seemed to fit perfectly with a theory proposed by another research group, more than ten years ago. I quickly opened that paper on my computer, and saw my hunch confirmed… Almost…

Slowly, the pieces started to shuffle in my head, and then, all at once, it all fitted perfectly in a new theory, much simpler and more elegant than the one proposed before. If I had noticed that in the first version, then we could have even submitted this work to one of the highest ranking journals…

In a trance, I typed down my new theory and the discussion around it. I added the necessary references, and added some extra comments on the side, suggesting some modifications in the figure to make it all more visible. Bam!!! This was going to be one paper people would talk about!!

The Conclusion section also needed some modification. Some of the incorrect statements had to be removed and, and, if they agreed on my new insights, a significant part needed to be added. I entered my suggestions, read the whole document once more, saved it and sent it away.

I took a sip of my coffee, spitting it directly back in the mug – I had been totally dragged in the paper and lost track of time. The coffee was ice cold…

I might have missed it, but so far I hadn’t heard any sounds coming from Anita. So I sneaked back to the bedroom and moved back under the blankets; careful not to awake Anita. However, she did notice my presence, and moved to lie against my body. By that, my cold feet woke her up. “My God! What happened? Have you been out of the bed?” I mumbled something about some work to do, and told her to go back to sleep. First, however, Anita had to go to the bathroom. But she didn’t seem to have any issues like a hangover…

Anita came back, and we both slept for an additional hour.

We both stood in the kitchen, preparing brunch for that day – Anita slicing melon and pineapple while I was taking care of the coffee and tea, and fried eggs with bacon. I commented Anita on her sunny mood, despite at least two bottles of wine she had finished the evening before. “I guess my metabolism is fine-tuned for alcohol degradation – I rarely suffer from hangovers”. I wished I could say the same…

After breakfast and the dishes, I took care of some laundry – putting a dirty pile of clothes in the machine and folding what had been clean in the basket for one week already – while Anita, wearing one of my rope-costumes, vacuum-cleaned and dusted the first floor.

When I stacked away my underwear, I came across the empty condom-box. Knowing Anita had no problems at buying them, I called her.

“Do we still have to use those condoms? I’ve been using the pill since I was fourteen, you know?”

I just didn’t feel good about that, and I told her.

“Does it have anything to do with my past? Would it make you feel more comfortable when I’d have a blood-test?”

That was awkward…

“I don’t özbek escort want to lie about it – it would certainly make me feel more comfortable; I think it would be good if we both would have one…” That was only one part of the truth, but I couldn’t tell her the whole story yet… I think this hurt Anita, but she couldn’t deny the risks.

I told her to put loose-fitting jeans and a jacket over the ropes, and then she could go by bike – I had some visions of the crotch-rope and the bicycle-saddle, but that was Anita’s concern…

I pulled out the bike, and with one smooth movement, Anita was seated. I couldn’t tell if she even noticed the rope… However, I did notice the earplugs from her headphone… A bomb exploded in my chest. I rapidly ran after the bike, and managed to grab her arm. “Take off those earplugs!”

“Hey, careful – you almost pulled me off the bike! No worries – the volume is very low.”

“I don’t give a damn! I want you to take them off! Now!!” My heart was beating in my throat, and I was about to cry.

“Easy man! Calm down! Take a chill-pill! I’ll take one out if that’s better for you… Hey, what are you doing now?!!” I had grabbed the power cord and pulled the plugs out of her ears.

“I’m not joking! Take! Them! OFF!!!” Then I felt bile rising, and started vomiting.

“My God! What’s going on? That’s totally out of proportion!” Then it sank in to her. “Does this have anything to do with Stephany?”

I rasped and spitted, barely able to breathe, while the tears flowed over my face.

Anita had gotten off the bike, and squatted in front of me to see me in the face, not minding the puddle of vomit. “Did you have something similar with Stephany?” I nodded – unable to talk.

Anita guided me back into the house, placed me on the sofa, cleaned my face with a wet towel, and pulled both arms around my neck. I lay my head in her lap, and let all emotions flow.

Anita softly rubbed my back, while the shaking of my body slowly diminished. Finally, the tears stopped, and I could start getting control over my breathing. For a long time, I stayed like this, feeling empty and tired. Then I set up, wiped the tears away, and embarrassedly tried to look away. However, Anita held one arm around my shoulder, in such a way that I could impossibly turn my head from her.

“Can you tell me what happened?” she whispered softly.

Even the thought of it ignited a new round of crying; now I sat up, with my face in my hands – my elbows on my knees.

“Easy Ruben, easy. It’s ok, just let it out.” Anita’s hand on my back made small circles, while the other one softly stroke my wrist.

When also that passed away, I took a deep breath. I needed three more deep breaths to calm down enough to start.

“We had a big discussion. A big, big fight… Anita took her bike and left… I told her… I told her to take out the headphone – I always did… But this time she told me I had no say over her… I had no say over her…” Tears reappeared, and with a croaked voice I managed to finish “Less than two hours later the police came at the door… I had to identify…”

I took of my glasses, wiped my eyes with my wrist, and walked, eyes covered by my arm, up the stairs to the bedroom. There I fell on the bed, and buried my head in the pillow, and let it all out again.

Anita had followed me, and lied down next to me. One arm on my back, she whispered “I didn’t know that. God, if only I had known…”

In my mind, I replayed last fight again. Word by word; look by look; tear by tear… I knew that, if I had been more lenient, she would probably have stayed home… If I hadn’t given the key, she wouldn’t have gone by bike… If I hadn’t hit her back…

For identification, they had shown me the handbag; soiled, squashed up, its content broken and spilled… There was no chance to replace my last memory of her face – an angry face – with a more peaceful one…

And now I had done it again. Even though I knew about Anita – she had told me everything – I had confronted her. Again. I had even been aggressive towards her… She was realistic and sensitive for now; feeling sorry for me. But next week, or next month, she would remember how I had stopped her; how I had grabbed her, almost made her fall, and how I had yelled at her… I wanted her to leave me now – scream at her to leave me alone, but that would only make things worse…

So I accepted the coffee she’d made for me. I tried to stop the shaking of my body, and to cover up the pain, caused by an ice-cold hand, squeezing my stomach. I pretended to listen to her whispering, tried to nod at appropriate times. I sniffled and fought hard to keep my last tears for myself.

The alarm of the laundry machine helped me out, indicating its program had ended. I tried a wry smile to Anita, told her it was done now – that my emotions had sufficiently been drained from me, and that I could handle it again – and that I wanted to pick up my life again, starting with mecidiyeköy escort the easy task of laundry hanging…

Anita gave me a reassuring squeeze in my wrist, a peck on the cheek, and assured me I had to tell her, when my memories haunted me – she would understand…

I walked down with her, suggested some other goods she could buy while going to the shop, and, when she closed the door, I ran upstairs.

For an endless amount of time, I stood in front of the laundry machine, focusing on my breathing. Then I swallowed, took one deep breath, and pulled out the wet clothes.

Carefully I walked the heavy laundry basked down the stairs to the garden. I brought the clothes pins from the living room and started hanging the wet clothes. I vigorously shook the wet jeans to remove the wrinkles, and to release my tension. Anita took her time; fortunately she understood I could use some time alone, and perhaps the same was true for her. So when I was done, when the washing line was filled, and all folded clothes had found their place on the shelfs again, I went back to the laptop.

Another E-mail from the student – still no reaction from her supervisor. The student was thrilled by my suggestions; in her own words, she explained what I’d written down, to test if she understood me correctly. And then there were some suggestions from her side, and some more questions. She was brilliant – she totally nailed it! Her ideas even made it better! So much work, so little time…

I complimented her with her ideas, answered her questions, and provided some more information I thought useful. By then, Anita came back, so I rounded it up, and sent it away.

“What are you working on?” Anita asked, curiously, carefully measuring my mood.

“This is going to be a big hit!” I replied, all enthusiastic again by the manuscript. “This paper explains it all… but it has to be submitted by tomorrow…”

“Explains it all…” sniggered Anita, glad to learn that my emotions had turned into happy ones again. “Explains all the distortions caused by the quatosh, when it inflames the garmarin and thereby triggers the latic-wave to undulate into an interflow?” throwing in some random fantasy words with a thick scientific sauce, to emphasize the inflation of results in our field, caused by extremely focused specialization. “But I guess that means we won’t go to the restaurant tonight?”

“Yes we will!” I reassured her. “I am only co-author, and I feel like my work is done here. I hope for a short meeting tomorrow, and then it’s all up to them…” I beckoned her to come closer, used my hand on the back of her head to pull her face to mine, and I kissed her deeply.

“So this won’t be wasted money!” Anita smiled, pulling out a new package of condoms.

“I’m sorry about what just happened…” I mumbled. “I shouldn’t have done that – it is not up to me to tell you not to listen to music on the bike – but I just couldn’t control myself…”

“I can totally understand!” Anita was quick to reply. “Anyway, you are right – it is not safe to use those ear plugs in traffic, and I can see how you got upset about it! And on top of that – it is my role to obey you in anything you ask from me, whether I agree or not…”

“Let’s just leave it for now. How is your underwear doing?” I quickly changed the subject.

“The upper part – I love it! But my panties drive me crazy, and it starts to hurt. Can you change that one to the rope-thingy from yesterday evening?”

“Sure, but maybe you should take it all off soon. We should leave for dinner in an hour or so – did you bring your body corset with you?”

“Okay, okay… you can take it off… But maybe we should test the condoms first? Then I can bring them back, if they are no good…”

Before we left for the restaurant, I checked once more my E-mail; finally there was a reply from the supervisor. He suggested a meeting next day at nine – he hadn’t been able to take a good look at the current version, but indicated he might have some issues with my new ideas… However, he’d sent his message from the airport, was up for a six hour flight, so he had plenty of time to thoroughly go through the material…

I sent a quick, short message to the student, to encourage her to continue the work (if still needed). I was sure we could sort it out. And then we left.

Anita looked stunning. She wore a new long skirt I hadn’t seen before, her corset (of course), combined with a jacket; a combination which looked absolutely stylish. I’d put on my black jeans, new blouse that Anita had bought me, and black jacket, but felt a bit underdressed, next to Anita. However, it had to do…

The restaurant was advertising a 4-course menu with carpaccio, cheese and pine nuts, mushroom soup, lamb chops and finally crème brûlée as desert; I checked Anita’s face, and ordered for both, with red wine for Anita and a coke for me.

The restaurant was full and the atmosphere was right. We had a small table in the back, and although the service was azeri escort good, it took quite some time for the food to come. I didn’t mind – I was in good company.

After everything that we had done during this weekend, it was probably an obvious question to ask for Anita’s panties – clichés exist for a reason, but Anita was well prepared… “I would do it if I could!” she smiled…

“So you’re not wearing…” Funny; it was me who fell embarrassed… Anita blew me a kiss.

When the soup had arrived, I told her about the paper I was involved in. Although she worked on another topic, she was familiar with the subject, and became enthusiastic when I told about how everything fell together in this new theory. However, her mood changed completely when I told her how much I appreciated the work attitude of the student…

“HER work attitude? What do you mean ‘HER’ work attitude? It’s a WOMAN? Who is this student?”

In a split second, the atmosphere had changed. It got chilly, and dark energy converged in front of me. Cold sweat ran down my back when I tried to maintain a lighthearted appearance. “It’s Donna. She really nailed it in the first place, somehow Glen screw up, but she managed to get it all fixed again in only one weekend – very few students have the brains do that, and even less will bring up the energy…”

“So while I was cleaning your kitchen, you were chatting with Donna?!!” Her voice grew louder.

“Oh, come on! You know that’s not true! It’s work. It’s my job to advise and support students; if necessary, even in the weekend!” I knew this was going wrong, but still hoped Anita wouldn’t make a scene.

“And when I was naked, on my knees, weeding your terrace, you were working your ass off to please that bitch!!” People started looking at us…

“Anita, please! Can we talk about that after we’re back at home? Let’s not spoil our evening now!”

“And after you got me drunk and were done fucking me, you left me to check out her interest in you! I guess you’ve earned yourself a good night shagging, handing over these ideas of you!! Is this how students get their papers published?! They fuck you and get a paper in return?!!! Do you also take men?!!!”

“Anita, please be quiet! I will pay and we’ll go – we can’t stay here like that!”

“You can stay; I will go. You can invite that bitch of you to take my place, here and now!”

Anita stood up, took her bowl of soup, and threw it on top of mine. By now, the whole restaurant was watching, and waiters came walking quickly our way. Anita left in a rush, leaving me – covered in soup – behind.

I was thunderstruck; I didn’t have a clue how to handle this situation. One waiter asked me to follow him, while the other started enquiring if any of the other guests had been hit by the soup.

I was taken behind the bar, where I told them I would compensate all costs and preferred to leave. Apparently, it wasn’t an unusual situation for the staff – at least they didn’t show. One helped me cleaning up the soup on my clothes as good as possible, and then I was allowed to pay and leave the restaurant. I so hoped no-one had filmed this situation – I didn’t want to see this scene back on YouTube. The things that go through your mind…

Once outside, there was no trace of Anita. However, all windows of my car were shattered… That was something I had to deal with tomorrow. First I had to find Anita.

I called her, but she didn’t reply. Her phone was turned off and I left a short message. Then,

I ran along the road in the direction of Anita’s house, but I didn’t see her. As far as I could see, the lights in her house were off, and there was no reaction when I rang the doorbell. Thinking about my car windows, I feared she had gone to my house. I called her phone again, but it was still off. I was in doubt – waiting here until she came home, or check my house first – but I reasoned that eventually she would go home, wherever she was now.

Every ten minutes, I checked her phone – to no avail. Hours passed, but she didn’t show up. I rang her bell several more times without reaction.

A police car came, and two policemen came out. They asked for me to identify myself, and wrote down my details. They explained one of the inhabitants had called to report a suspicious looking person – probably me. I explained the situation and my worries – leaving out the car windows – but they could not help me. Both policemen were friendly and understanding, but explained to me that they had to give me an official warning; if they would see me later this night, they would have to arrest me for stalking.

I thought they were about to leave when one of them suddenly asked me “Are you the owner of a gray Ford Focus, license plate …” I confirmed and told them I was aware of the windows. No, I didn’t want to press charges. The policemen shrugged their shoulders and left.

There was nothing I could do except going home. I was still in time to get the last bus to the village but the last part I had to walk. I still tried calling almost every ten minutes, but the phone remained off. When I finally arrived at my house, there was no sign of Anita. For a moment I thought of going to Marc’s house, but decided that it was better for both of us that I wouldn’t go there, whether she was there or not.

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