PRESENT
“So... was that why you did not speak to me again?” Johanna asked me, and her finger stopped the recorder before the question was recorded.
At first I did not know whether to discern if she was angry or impressed. But it was enough for me to take a very discreet breath to catch the subtle perfume of her skin and understand that, rather, she was consternated. Her gray look turned sad, accompanied by a tense gesture of her lips. My pulse stirred unconsciously.
“I’m not going to say that I was trying to protect you, because it wasn’t like that.”
“No, I know it wasn’t. You were protecting yourself.” she told me, with a slow sigh. “You just curled up there, licking your wounds. Literally.”
“...are you angry?”
“Do you want me to get angry?”
“...I don’t know. Truly, I don’t know.”
