Chapter 2. My Savior

By Camila

He’s always treated me badly; I know he can’t stand me—in fact, he hates me—and I’ve never done anything to him.

He showered me with insults and even kissed me—and he did it in a way that felt like he was almost raping me. Yes, it was just a kiss, but one full of contempt, meant to hurt me, to show his power.

My pain ran deep; I don’t deserve his hatred or his contempt.

If only he knew that from the very first time I saw him… I fell in love with him. Yes, I’m madly in love with him; he’s the most attractive man I’ve ever seen in my life. He’s tall, muscular, with the face of a magazine model, and blue eyes that I try not to look at—because I’m afraid they’ll read in mine the infinite love I feel for him.

And his mouth… I’d dreamed of his kisses a thousand times, and when they finally came, it was the most disappointing and dreadful thing I could ever have imagined.

But the love I feel for him is my deepest secret.

The first time I saw him, I almost fainted; he ignored me. As I got to know him, my disappointment was endless—he thinks he’s a god; he’s conceited, selfish, domineering, capricious… and yet he’s the man who gives me butterflies in my stomach every time I see him.

I’m crying my eyes out; I went through hell as a little girl, and I thought that was all behind me.

I remember when Don Antonio found me sleeping on one of the display sofas closest to the storage room; the security camera didn’t reach that spot, and it wasn’t in plain sight either—it was the perfect spot, and I slept comfortably.

I was 16, almost 17. I’d run away from a temporary shelter because the woman’s husband there would always come up to me when she wasn’t around and try to touch me. I’d back away and always managed to escape his disgusting hands—until that day...I was studying for an exam when he came up behind me, grabbed both my breasts, bit my neck, and said,

“Today’s the day. You’re going to find out what’s good—get ready for the best fuck you’ve ever had.”

He lifted me off the old chair, which fell to the floor, and the noise brought two other girls—also from the shelter—into the room. He let go of me for a moment to see who had come into the room; I took the opportunity to hide the few books I had in the worn-out desk, ran to the bedroom I shared with other girls—who, luckily, were there—grabbed three pairs of panties, a pair of sweatpants, and put on a used jacket that a classmate had given me.

Luckily, the lady arrived, and he followed her into the kitchen. I took advantage of the fact that the door was unlocked and ran out; I didn’t stop for many blocks. I

walked about 40 blocks and saw the mall; I went inside, grabbed a hamburger that some kid had left behind and an almost-empty Coke from a table at McDonald’s, and went to eat in the restroom.

I didn’t look too bad—the jacket saved me—and since there were so many people, no one paid me any attention.

I kept taking leftovers without being seen and slept on the couch for three nights, but on the fourth night, around 11 p.m., Mr. Antonio went to the furniture warehouse—he worked late—and saw me. He approached me, watching me closely.

“Please don’t kick me out, sir—it’s cold outside.” “Where

are your parents?

” “I don’t have any—I ran away from a temporary shelter.”

I told him everything—I don’t know why, but he inspired trust in me. He invited me to eat and took me to sleep at his apartment, where I’ve lived ever since. I kept going to school, at first afraid that that disgusting man—or the woman—would come looking for me, but I suppose she didn’t care at all that I’d run away; they’d still be getting paid for me.

To return the favor to Don Antonio, I asked to work for free in exchange for the apartment and food. He didn’t want me to, but since I insisted, he gave me a job in the office—not a cleaning job, though I wouldn’t have turned that down either; it was work, and it was dignified.

Since I was doing well, he encouraged me to continue my studies in the business administration program. I remember that when he offered to let me stay in the apartment, he only asked that I not walk around the area at night.

Years went by, and Don Antonio became like a father to me.

I worked really hard and managed to graduate in record time.

If I want to go out at night, I can—through the only authorized exit—but I don’t; I don’t have any female friends.

My best friend is Tony; I love him like a brother. He’s kind, with his father’s kindness. He’s helped me study for final exams so many times; we’re very close.

We’re so close that I’m one of the few people who knows he’s gay—he hides it as if it were a sin. It’s not that he hasn’t come to terms with it, because even his father knows—yes, it took Don Antonio quite a while to accept it; he’s from a different generation—but over time, he had no problem with it.

I always tell Tony that he doesn’t have to hide it; I think it’s mostly because of his brother. Once he comes clean with him, the situation will be different.

I don’t know why he cares so much about Javier’s opinion, though I do know this: Javier is domineering, jealous, and spoiled, and Tony is very afraid of being rejected by him.

I’m forever grateful—and always will be—for having crossed paths with Don Antonio; he did so much more for me than anyone else. I know he reported the couple at the foster home—not on my behalf, since there was no evidence—but he pulled some strings, and they weren’t allowed to adopt any more children, not even temporarily. And as for the man, I know his private security guards paid him a “visit,” and every so often they still visit him to remind him how he should behave.

We often stay up playing cards and chatting; he always ends up reminiscing about his beloved wife, his eyes filled with tears.

How I would have loved to meet her!

Because of all this, I know that Don Antonio is my guardian angel—perhaps guided by his wife.

I don’t think he’s ever talked about her as much with anyone else as he has with me.

I love him like the only father I’ve ever known, and he loves me like a daughter—a close daughter with whom he shares both joys and sorrows.

Yes, I was the one who helped him understand Tony’s sexuality, and I’m so happy to see how their relationship has improved and to see them so close.

I woke up late at night; I’d fallen asleep crying while thinking about my life.

It’s going to be difficult from now on, with Javier as president.

Monday, 9 a.m. We executives were in a conference room. After I graduated with a degree in business administration, Don Antonio appointed me director of finance. That raised some suspicion, although some thought I was a niece because of how close I was to him and Tony.

I was the most powerful director, and everyone knew it and respected me. I always handled my duties with great responsibility and devoted long hours to my work, except for a few hours when I’d step out to take some courses to earn my accounting degree—just 12 more courses after the bachelor’s degree I already had.

I was also away on Sundays, but by 3:00 p.m. I was already back—that was my routine.

The mall was open Monday through Monday from 9:00 a.m. to 10:00 p.m.; that was a long time, and I was available most of the time, seven days a week. I suppose I developed a work addiction, but I owed my life to Don Antonio, and this was my way of repaying him.