The fight

"Wait, what are you doing?" I ask him when I managed to break away from the perfect kiss.

"Forgive me, Sofia. I got carried away." Michael tells me, blushing.

Michael blushed! Wow! Miracles can really happen. I was smiling deep inside, but outside I had to stay serious.

"Stay calm, just don't do it again. We are not there yet."

"That yet troubles me terribly. So, I remain with the hope that there is a possibility that you, miss, will fall into my trap as soon as possible."

"So, sir, I'm not a fish you can catch. I would suggest you to calm down, if I don't give up even semi-drunk, the chances decrease being awake."

I see him astonished, but I wasn't going to give up this cold attitude. Every time I felt like he was exaggerating, I would cut off his wings very straight. That would be best for me and the plans I have.

The plane lands in New York. I never thought I would see so many people together, so much hustle and bustle. And that's just at the airport. Michael pulls my hand through the crowd of people heading for the conveyor belt where we had to wait for our hold baggage. We get there first, and I can barely catch my breath. This boy ran me all over the airport. I knew I had to go to the gym again, that I was dusty in terms of endurance.

"What sense would we make in such a hurry?" I ask him, almost panting from the physical effort to keep up with him.

"So we'll be the first, of course." Michael replies, rolling his eyes.

As I said, irony is his main feature. What Michael doesn't know is that he can be defeated with his own weapons.

"Okay, Sherlock. We arrived first and now what? We still have to wait for our luggage to arrive. So, basically, we could say we hurried in vain."

"Sofia, look at the luggage lane. But carefully. Every time I travel, this is my favorite part, waiting for my suitcases. To notice this band constantly moving like the course of a river ... simply fascinates me."

At these words, I burst out laughing almost unintentionally. I didn't know if Michael was serious about that gang or if he was drunk, but one thing was for sure: it's one of the strangest thoughts I've ever heard.

"Do not laugh. Think about it, am I not right? A river is constantly flowing, and this band is constantly moving. It makes me appreciate life differently, to remember how quickly all the moments pass, whether they are happy or not..."

- Okay, Shakespeare. The luggage has arrived, let's go home. I finally tell him, even though I saw him very depressed.

Now I seem to regret choosing to treat his strange thoughts with irony.

- So how do we do it? Are you coming to me? Michael asks me, widening his eyes waiting for an answer.

- No, but thank you very much for the invitation. See you tonight anyway, right?

I needed all the strength in the world to turn down this offer, but I'm damn proud that I managed to say no. Sometimes choosing with your mind, not your heart, is the best decision you can make. At least the regrets are smaller, even if there are still small suspicions about whether or not you did well, whether you chose the right question "whether it was" or not forever. It wouldn't have been anything if. We're not interested. We choose what we think is best for us and we must learn to live with the decisions we have made and to be committed. So get out of here, Michael. You did not see it coming, did you?

- Okay, Sofia. I'm going to pick you up at 21, okay? Please just send me the address of the hotel where you will stay in a message.

Here you go? So easily resigned? Not even a trace of regret, not even an irony about the fact that I refused? Do you know that word with the Romanian who is upset that he is not invited, and if he had been invited, he would not have gone anyway? Well, so do women. They want them to have the power of choice, and when they do, they become frustrated that the man accepts their decision. Who else to understand them?

- Of course, can you give me your phone number? I finally ask him, going back to the distant attitude we both adopted.

"Will you give me a kiss if I give it to you?"

- You know what? Just tell me where to get. I'll take a taxi.

This whole game of whether I want you or not had started to get on my nerves. Why doesn't he insist, why does he give up so easily and doesn't even try to make me change my mind? Does he care so little?

"Calm down, sweetheart." I just wanted to relax the atmosphere.

- DON'T TELL ME NICE! I'M NOT PRETTY! I say, raising my voice without realizing that I ended up screaming in front of the airport.

That gives the first impression in New York, everyone will think I'm crazy.

The fact that Michael was laughing at me clinging to my abdomen annoyed me even worse.

"Can't you really take anything seriously?" I ask him angrily.

"Should I be serious about your screaming attempt?" Which is just a voice so thin you can barely hear it, by the way.

- Michael, seriously now. Is everything a game for you?

- Not. I don't understand what makes you say that, what did I do wrong? We felt good on the plane. With the landing you became tense, nervous and I don't know why.

"Why did you invite me to sleep with you?"

That's it. I did it. I asked him. I'll probably regret it, but I'd at least get an answer. It's better than being left with questions.

- Because I wanted to help you. Because I notice that you are a good man, whom I can receive with confidence in my house. The fact that I feel attracted to you from the first minute I saw you at the airport with my hair disheveled and my shirt unbuttoned is not an important enough reason to offer to help you.

"Then why did you accept so easily that I would stay at the hotel?" my voice is trembling, afraid of the answer I am about to receive.

- You're the top, Sofia. he answers with a laugh.

"Like I said, you can't take anything seriously." I tell him, crossing my arms in annoyance.

- Yes, I can. But from our first moments of interaction, you took care to be defensive, to emphasize the fact that you are a feminist, related to women's own choices and for this reason I chose to respect that you want to sleep at the hotel without insisting. Sofia, I wouldn't have invited you if I didn't really want you to stay with me, I just didn't want to stretch the rope. I didn't want to press you or make you change your mind. I wanted you to be free to decide.

God, I only now realize that he took into account the quarrel I had a few hours ago at Tel Aviv airport, and I made fun of myself by behaving totally childishly. Now let me see how you get out of this, Sofia.

- I have...

"Are you speechless, miss?" Come on, let me take you to the hotel at least. That's how I can make up for my audacity to accept your decision. Michael says, laughing at me in such a nice way that I can't even be upset.

Michael is right. My exit is not only not justified, but it is totally wrong. This man invited me, I refused, end of story. Why do we feel that someone has to fight to get us back on track? Why, although we seem certain that we want something, do we want a person to appear who will lead us completely to other desires? I didn't understand what made me react this way. I am not like this.

"All right, thank you!" I'm going to stay at Four Season for a short time.

- Do you realize that you will pay a fortune to live there? Michael asks me in total astonishment.

"If I told you money wasn't a problem, you'd probably think I was arrogant." So, I'm going to tell you that I need a place to feel at home.

"Okay ... if your home has luxury and opulence."

I didn't want to open this topic with Michael, but after my father's death, my mother and I inherited a huge fortune that helped me follow my dream of coming to New York and looking for those who killed my father. Although before his death, our material condition was average, when the lawyer called us to talk about the will, we realized that suddenly, we became rich.