Happiness

Her delicate wrists were cinched with silver bracelets.

Ariadne agitated again on her chair, under the piercing and icy glance of her interlocutor, hesitating on the words to be used to explain herself.

- You...

- You call me by my name.

It was an order without appeal.

- Well, you probably wonder what I learned last night, after our...

- Passionate exchange?

- Uh, yes, after that exchange...

- Yes, I did wonder, but only for a minute, and then I remembered the instability of women and their endless excuses for their desires or their behavior that they always judge as, how did you say, unacceptable and condemnable.

Ariadne listened to him without interrupting him, and in spite of herself, she had an inner smile when she noticed how much he could understand women, without being able to control them. And in any case, none of them would ever recognize the truth of such a just and terrible judgment.