Dorian picks up the cigarette I give him and sits down again on the sofa beside me. He pulls big puffs making a big cigarette burner.

I slowly get up beside him and go into the bathroom. I let the water run into my body, and I feel relaxed from the satisfaction I had with him.

I take Dorian's bathrobe and put it on. I stand in the mirror and wipe my hair with a towel. I put it in the laundry basket and with my fingers, I comb my hair so that they don't fly erratically.

I swallow dryly, as I look at myself in the mirror and notice lipstick next to Dorian's perfume. I take it in my hands and take off the clasp.

Red lipstick, I think silently. My mind runs at once to all the female faces whirling around Dorian.

Silly thought, isn't it?

Almost all women wear red lipstick, even me. I put the clasp on it again and leave it in the place where I found it. I think at once of Elva who came out of his house before.

Could it be hers?

And why does she forget such personal belongings in Dorian's house?

The tightness in my stomach is coming back. I sigh in vain, lest I take it out of me.

What should I do now?

Should I ask him for an explanation?

And if he gets mad?

Is that what happens from now on? Every time you see signs of possible infidelity, will you be afraid to tell him? My inner voice attacks, something I already expected.

So, that means he's sleeping with others?

Just the thought makes me sick.

Tell me, what woman would not be sick now with such a thought?

Dorian opens the bathroom door and walks in. He finds me in front of the washbasin resting my hands pensively. He goes in to take a shower without even noticing the lipstick on the mirror.

Maybe... maybe it was forgotten by some woman who might be his relative. If it was suspicious he would have taken care to hide it, wouldn't he?

These thoughts are convenient, my inner voice says ironically.

"Can I use this lipstick?" I say quickly without realizing how the words came out of my mouth.

I just can't 'swallow' it like that without hearing him give me even an excuse.

Pathetic, isn't it?

It's like mentally begging him to serve me any excuse just to push away the knife that threatens to stab my heart.

Sometimes I wonder.

Can't he see that I'm okay with him?

What have I done that he doesn't like and let his indifference and selfishness destroy me?

Dorian stops the shower water and turns his gaze to me. Ηe looks at the lipstick in front of the mirror and then at me.

"Yes, you can use it," he tells me apathetically and opens the shower water again.

He hasn't lost his temper, nor does he appear to be guilty. Of course, I didn't intend to use that lipstick. I just wanted to see his reaction.

I go out into the living room and put on my clothes. After I get dressed I go into the kitchen to have a glass of water. Inside the sink, I see two glasses with leftovers of drink. One of them has traces of lipstick. Red lipstick.

These must be traces left by Elva's lips. At least I saw that with my own eyes. I saw her come out of here. I keep my temper as long as I can.

What's the point of causing a scene for Dorian about all this?

We're gonna end up fighting. He'll be serving up the excuse that one of his employees just came to his house for work, and I just won't believe they just stayed in the conversation but did more things.

But I can't prove it. The tightness in my stomach is still there.

He could talk to her at the casino; she didn't need to visit him at his house. They had a drink; she was defiantly dressed when she left the apartment building and forgot her lipstick after a possible freshening up on her makeup.

The overwhelming information of my inner voice increases the tightness in my stomach, and a headache threatens to ravage my head.

"Dorian, I'm off," I shout to him from the living room.

"So fast?"

"Yes. I have work tomorrow at court, and I need rest," I tell him.

I feel the need to isolate myself. When Dorian is around, I find it hard to think clearly. His presence always affects me, no matter how cliché it may sound. When I'm around him, it always overcomes emotion.

Don't hurt me, be careful. I've already started dripping with sadness and filling your lungs with sighing air, my mind tells me with a sense of grievance.

Don't be afraid, my heart. I've hurt you, and I will heal you, I answer my inner voices.

Dorian comes close to me and grabs my face with his hands. He looks me deep in the eyes, and I'm already starting to ache.

Why am I aching?

Because you let him hurt you, and he still hurts you, the voice answers in my head, throwing the answer straight in my face.

He kisses me gently and then deepens that kiss. I feel like the energy is coming out of my soul and getting into his soul.

I smile shyly at him and leave without saying anything else.

As I walk out of his apartment building, I find myself feeling in the same position that Elva was in before.

'I am to him like all other women'. This time I'm the one talking to my inner echo, and I hear no answer back.

It's as if everything silently agrees with what I thought.

I get in the car and go home. All along the way, I feel a 'burden' on my soul.

The cunt! She did it on purpose and left her fucking lipstick here. I'm on my nerves. If she thinks she's gonna break me up from Reva, she's a very funny bitch.

I get dressed quickly and go to the casino.

I walk nervously through the corridors until I reach my office. I must have been greeted by people, but I have many fucking nerves to see or hear anything now.

I find Stefan outside the office door. "Come in," I say, and pass him by.

He obeyed and went in, closing the door behind him.

"Where is that asshole Ridge? Where the shit is he fucking again?" I ask.

"He's been checking the coffers at the entrance since last night," he gives me a serious look.

Fuck you too, Stephan.

"Well, I want you to send Elva away. You can send her to another store of mine outside Colorado," I get straight to the point.

"Ok. But she will have to sign-"

"She won't fucking sign anything!" I interrupt him with shouts. "And if he does any mischief, you know what to do," I went on, letting my threat be understood.

"I got it," he says.

"Get lost now. And do as I said," I give him my last word.