**No sex here. This is just the last chapter and wrap up to Ofelia's story. I figured I ought to submit it. I am thinking about re-writing the story as a romance, rather than erotica. Thanks to any and all who took the time to read, vote, and comment.**
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Ofelia called Leonard shortly after breakfast. He seemed far more eager to see her than she thought possible. He was brisk on the phone, and practically insisted on her coming to his apartment. While she readied herself she became worried that he would fall to his knees and beg for her back, not only back as his girl but as his fiance. She knew that such a thing was now impossible, even with that kink of his, and despite her sincerest wishes to see that some kind of justice be done in his behalf.
She took a shower and dressed casually in some white cotton pedal-pushers and a plain black t-shirt. She braided her hair and put a dab of White Linen perfume under each ear. While she examined herself in the mirror, Manuel slipped into the room and was standing a few feet behind her. She knew he was there before she saw him in the mirror, and he knew she knew. She sensed a strong uneasiness coming from him.
"Don't worry, Papi." she said, without looking over her shoulder to formally acknowledge her brother's presence. She had Leonard's engagement ring in her hand and was debating whether she should put it on. She decided to slip it in her pocket, and after they talked she would give it back to him. While wearing the ring would have been a nice gesture, she didn't want Leonard to get the wrong idea.
"What should I worry about?" Manuel answered his sister, and slinked up behind her. He slipped a finger in a belt loop at her lower back and tugged gently.
"I'm not going to marry Leonard." she told him, and met his eyes in the mirror. His relief and pleasure was crawling all over his face, though he was trying valiantly to hide it. His finger tightened on her belt loop. "It wouldn't work. He has to know that."
"Don't expect him to." Manuel said, and after a cursory glance over his shoulder at the door, he took his finger from her belt loop and ran it very lightly down the subtle curve of her bottom.
"That tickles." she said, and swiped at his hand with a reluctant grin that made her dimples dig down deep. She turned around and leaned against her dresser because the boy was so close. He was acting differently. She wondered where that coy and overly discreet Manuel had gone off to. His benign, oftentimes expressionless owl face had taken on the aspect of a falcon. He was stepping up. Was he staking his claim?
"Why can't I have you?" he asked her. His eyes lowered briefly, and he took that same finger and put it to her cheek, moved it slowly over her lips. "We let everybody know we're really cousins, not brother and sister, and then..."
"And then what, Manuel?" Ofelia said, and she stared at him. Manuel dropped his hand and met her gaze, held it for about as long as he could. After only a few seconds he looked down at his feet. She nipped his chin and forced him to look at her. She was shorter than Manuel but she towered over him in every possible respect. "How would you take care of me? Where would we live? Aqui? Con Mama?"
Manuel stood his ground as best he could. "I'm going to be a great poet. Like Borges. Like Neruda." She saw his chest grow larger, and he seemed to suddenly stand taller. His eyes sparkled.
"I believe you, Papi." Ofelia said. She took his face in her hands and gave him a kiss on each cheek. "We'll talk more later, when I get back. Promise me you'll be here."
"Maybe I won't be. There's a girl. She likes me, can you believe it? Her name is Graciela."
"Oh?"
"You think I'm lying?"
"No. I'm not surprised at all." Ofelia said. She put her hand on Manuel's shoulder and smiled. "It's about time. I'm happy!"
"You don't believe me." Manuel said, and he nodded his head. He was right, in a sense. It wasn't that she didn't believe he had met a girl or that the girl had an interest in him, she just knew that he had no feelings whatsoever in this...Graciela. The name made an unsightly little smudge in her mind. Manuel turned on his heels and stalked off. Ofelia called out to him but in the next moment he was gone on his bike.
~
Ofelia knocked on Leonard's door and he answered it quickly. He seemed excited, but was trying desperately to contain it. Ofelia gave him a suspicious look as she walked past him into his apartment. He was dressed nicely, a bit over-dressed in fact, both for the occasion and for the weather, but he hadn't shaved. Ofelia couldn't recall for the life of her having ever seen Leonard unshaven. She spun around to look at him after she walked past him, and her surprise even stopped him in his tracks. "What?" he asked her, his eyes wide.
"You look nice like that!" she told him. "Sheeez, what a difference!"
Leonard blinked, and after a few seconds he finally realized what she was referring to. He swept his hand over his dark, even peppering of beard and wore the expression of a man who had never considered the possibility that he might actually become more attractive by not grooming himself. He finally broke himself out of his stupor and remembered his manners. "You want some coffee? I just made some."
"That's okay." Ofelia said, still smiling, still gazing at him with a wholly new kind of admiration.
"I'd ask you to sit, Carina, but." He began, and he took her elbow like an usher. "There's something I have to show you. I want you to know first that I didn't find them myself, and I'm not angry at you..."
He was speaking too quickly. Ofelia yanked herself out of his grasp and stopped walking. His momentum took him a few steps further before he stopped and looked back at her. He was heading down the hall towards his bedroom. "Leonard, what the hell are you talking about?" Ofelia asked him.
"Carina, please, I can't explain. You have to come and see. At first, I thought you had agreed to it, but now, I don't think so. You wouldn't."
"What the - hell - are you talking about?" Ofelia asked him again, and her brows were drawn tightly together, her voice was shrill. Her hands were at her little hips. In the back of her mind Ofelia was struck by how much she reminded herself of her mother at that very instant.
Leonard was impatient. "Ofelia, pictures of you, on the Internet. Did you know about them? If so tell me and I won't say another word."
Ofelia found it hard to breathe for a moment. Her stomach was ablaze with the ice-blue flames of fear, revulsion, and panic. Her eyes grew wide, and Leonard knew instantly that she had no idea about pictures of her, at least on the Internet. He approached her and his hands were out in front of him defensively. He spoke softly but quickly.
"I didn't think you knew about it because, the, the pictures. You look like you're asleep. But it's you. Ramon at work, he found them. They're on some site where people send in photographs, you know. Of their wives, their girlfriends."
Ofelia didn't know what to do. She was angry and shocked and yet she felt numb also. Her body was on fire but she was beginning to shiver with cold. She wanted to go and sit on the couch but her feet wouldn't move. Finally Leonard helped her to it and she sat, still staring forward. Leonard kept his distance. In the corner of her mind Ofelia realized that this unfortunate turn of events was a ray of hope for Leonard. Leonard knew that Ofelia's boss was the guilty one; but he also knew that it was no time to get in her space. This beautiful girl who was usually so welcome and open, who was typically as free and unguarded as a child, was now a fortress that only a reckless fool would attempt to storm.
"He told me he erased them." Ofelia said, mostly to herself. "I knew he was lying! I knew it!"