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The door to the hotel room in Delhi Aerocity was a heavy one, which slides behind you and slows automatically before closing with a soft click, so no, he couldn't have slammed it. But he had had the intention and it must have been clear to him too.
Outside, in the corridor, the blinding light of a perfect day had hit her and the sudden heat that the air conditioner could not overcome. She had slipped into the elevator running, almost with the fear that he would reach her, beg her, force her to go back.
It was the usual story, if she said white, he wanted black. Never once did they agree on one thing, that they had a desire, a common agenda.
But the fury she felt in front of him, curled up under the duvet in the cold, dark room, which seemed immersed in a space-time dimension where summer did not exist and the sea did not exist either, had vanished in an instant, evaporated at the sight of the sun that was waiting for her.
The hotel lobby was strangely quiet, it wasn't the typical family vacation hotel they'd chosen, of course. She had gone out onto the street, hopeful, and here her attentive eye had managed to catch some sign of excitement: the smell of roast meat from an open window, a family intent on loading folding chairs and portable fridges onto an already overloaded car, the wide-open on the dark entrance of a church… she savored everything, and even more because he wasn't there. It was as if she said to him absently, 'here, look what you're missing, too bad for you'.
But it was when she arrived at the beach that the national-popular atmosphere of the party that he hated so much had hit her in full force. With a water balloon in perfect style: a balloon full of water to the limit, which had exploded on first contact with his body. She had been dumbfounded and her first movement had been of surprise, and of anger, if she was to be honest with herself. The violent slap of the water balloon had hit her on the side, the wet embrace of the water had stuck her clothes on, her first thought had been for the telephone, but as she turned furious towards the direction of the launch, she had thought with relief that it was safe in the bag.
She had expected to find herself in front of a beardless boy, with a mischievous expression and coarse laughter, but the reproach that she was formulating confusedly in her head had died before being born when she had realized that her attacker was a man more or less than her age.
The laughing eyes, an impertinent dimple at the side of her mouth, the tanned and slightly gnarly body: the perfect Latin lover from the Riviera. She hadn't been able to hold back a gesture, as if to say 'But do you think?!' and she couldn't help but feel her gaze sliding along the dress that the water balloon had wrapped so well around her body, going up towards the neckline , finally planting himself in her eyes. 'Happy mid-August,' he said, raising a hand in apology, while her smile never left her gaze. And she'd smiled too and she'd waddled along the beach a little more than necessary, with his eyes, she could swear, glued to her butt.
She reached the bed by the sea, took the magazines out of the straw bag, covered herself with cream and lay down under the caressing rays of the sun, well aware that the atmosphere around her was becoming more and more effervescent. The beach filled up visibly and more and more people arrived at the seashore soaked like her. Even the cries and laughter, contained at first, steadily increased in volume as the sun climbed higher in the sky.
Every now and then she raised herself to look for the Latin lover among the announcements of Call girls Delhi in the crowd, but her gaze was lost among the rows of identical umbrellas, slipped on the naked flesh of the people who crowded the beach and at a certain point resigned, she put on the headphones and closed her eyes in the hope of not hearing the growing clamor while a little voice inside herself that she didn't want to listen to began to suggest that perhaps her boyfriend might have been right. That mid-August wasn't a day to spend at the beach, in the midst of all those crazed people. She had turned the volume to maximum, so as not to hear the external and internal voices, and she had dozed off slightly.
It was the coolness of a sudden shadow on her body that made her eyes open. And the first thing he had seen was her gaze laughing at her: her attacker was leaning over her and was ready to spill a bucket full of water on her. She had taken off the earphones and propped herself up on her elbows, aware that the presence of the phone on the towel gave her a few moments of negotiation and that her abs popped over her stomach and her breasts took on a more rounded shape. full.
'Aren't you a little dry?' he had said to her, perhaps with a slight hint in her voice. She had cast a quick look around her and realized that in the meantime the situation had escalated.
It was lunchtime and while the elderly and ladies had taken refuge in bars or returned to the cool of their homes, the beach had turned into a battlefield. No use pretending any further, she had thought.
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