Proserpina

Lucien had informed me of his intention to leave that night for Argentina. Some urgent matter had come up, he said, pressing his lips to my forehead as he prepared to leave.

I hugged him tightly, wishing he did not have to go.

‘Woman, He grunted, his mouth seeking my lips greedily, possessively, ‘I might be gone for a week. I do not want you to leave the house when I am away, is that clear?’

He tugged at my lower lip to make his words crystal ...