“Right now you belong to me, and that's all that matters,” he whispered, his breath hot on her ear. She closed her eyes and leaned into him.

This is a very dangerous man.

They spent the day together and it was amazing. They laughed and talked, acted silly and touristy. He even danced with her in front of the Trevi Fountain, then kissed her in a way that made the locals cheer for them. They shared and they learned about each other and they bonded. Then they ended the evening at his hotel room.

But she didn't stay the night – Misch absolutely had to be at work the next day. He said he understood. They kissed goodbye before she got in the taxi, and she waved at him as she pulled away. Smiled the whole way to her own hotel. Fell asleep smiling.

Then three days went by and she didn't hear a peep from him.

He said I belonged to him. Did he only mean for that day!?

She felt sick. She felt stupid. She felt used. She felt worried. She felt … just about every emotion a person could have – except for guilt. Thankfully, all those other feelings squeezed guilt to a backburner, and it only reappeared when a certain name scrolled across her cell phone screen. And even then, she only felt guilty after she realized she was disappointed it wasn't Tal's number.

By the end of that first day, she was pretty sure she'd covered all the five stages of grief, possibly several times over. She went to sleep worrying her lower lip, wondering what had happened to change things.

But the next day, it was like she woke up with a whole new attitude. She wasn't that girl anymore, the one who was always worrying about what was wrong with her. She'd spent the last couple years doing that in her marriage, she didn't need to do that with Tal. Nothing was wrong with her. Nothing was wrong, period. He had a job, she had a job, they hadn't promised to spend every waking moment together. A man she liked hadn't gotten into contact with her. Big deal. What was she going to do about it?

“If you want to see me, come find me.”

So she decided to do just that. The worst thing that could happen was he told her it was over. Or really, he just wouldn't be there. Skipped town. But at least she'd know, and she could get on with her life. She'd be sad, she wouldn't lie to herself, but she wouldn't be heart broken. And she certainly wouldn't beat herself up. She was done doing that.

After work on the third day of no contact, Misch went back to her hotel room and changed into a pair of cut off shorts and a black tank top. She decided against taking a taxi. His hotel really wasn't too far from her own, and she was feeling so good about herself, she wanted to burn the excess energy.

It took her about half an hour, but she enjoyed the walk. She'd stopped in at a cute little furniture store along the way, and an old man had given her a flower. She hooked her glasses onto the front of her tank, then used them to pin the flower in place. He kissed her on the cheek and then sent her on her way.

It made her day.

She went up to the front desk of the hotel to see if they could ring for Tal, but the only clerk that was available didn't speak a word of English. Misch leaned against the counter, propping her head in her hand. She'd been there about five minutes when she heard a familiar voice echoing across the lobby.

“... next time, you're gonna be the one in the dirt,” Tal was laughing.

Mischa turned around and was surprised by what she saw. Tal was filthy, his clothing covered in dust. His hands were disgusting, coated in dirt almost clear up to his elbows, and it was all smudged on his cheeks and forehead. He wore a button up shirt, but it was untucked from his slacks, and the top three buttons weren't done up. He looked dirty and disheveled.

He was walking next to another man, who looked messy as well, though not quite as much, and was wearing cargo pants, combat boots, and a skin tight black tank top. He had all the right equipment to pull off the look, with an incredibly built physique. He looked Spanish, or some kind of Hispanic, and he was carrying a large duffel bag as he walked alongside Tal.

It's funny, when you spend so much time alone with someone, you forget that they have a life outside of you.

Misch wondered if maybe it was a bad time – she didn't want to bother him while he was hanging with his buddy. She considered just sidling off and calling him later, but right then his eyes locked onto hers, and any doubts she had about his feelings towards her, flew away. His smiled broadened, showing all his perfect teeth.

“I don't believe it!” he called out to her. She smiled back and walked towards him.

“Don't believe what?”

“I didn't think you'd do it,” he responded, which made no sense.

“Do what?” she asked, coming to a stop in front of him. But he didn't stop. He walked right up to her and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off the ground.

“Find me,” he breathed in her ear before giving her a wet kiss on the side of her neck.

“You told me to,” she reminded him, feeling a little light headed at his response to her.

“Yeah, but you're a scaredy cat. I thought you'd be hiding in your hotel room and I'd have to come hunt you down again,” he said. She swatted him on the shoulder and he sat her down.

“No, no more of that,” she replied.

“Ah, good. Very good girl,” he teased.

“Am I just supposed to keep standing here like a frickin' perv?”

Misch had forgotten about the other man. Tal's presence made her stupid. She went to step back, but Tal kept his arm around her, kept her pressed up against him. He nodded at his friend.