Hancho, Part One

An office job served Bella well. Her colleagues were kind. Bella’s boss, Mark, was constantly cracking jokes as he treated her to lunch every day. She never thought a 40-hour workweek would feel like a ride at an amusement park.

As she filed away the clients’ folders, she thought of Hancho’s body. How badly she wished to rush home and watch him shower. Impossible, anyhow, with Hancho’s father making a sudden visit.

The man took residence on their couch. Never slept. The TV blared all night. Amazingly, Bella got a full night’s sleep during the man’s stay.

While his father was there, Hancho reduced his time at the gym to 90 minutes. He started saying “Thank you,” “I love you,” and “Please” to Bella. He even caressed her hand one morning, making Bella late for work.

One evening, Bella returned home to a candlelit dinner. Sure, the table was set for three, but even with Hancho’s father there, Bella was the primary focus.

“How was work?” Hancho asked.

“Fun as always.”

Bella looked for signs of jealousy in Hancho but couldn’t find any.

“So glad it was fun, baby.”

Baby?

“You gonna give it to her?” Hancho’s father asked.

“One minute, pop.” Hancho appeared to be drowning in Bella’s appearance. “You know, baby, at work how you can pour yourself a cup of coffee, walk away for a few minutes, but then a few minutes turn into an hour?”

Bella nodded.

“Well, I got you this cup.” Hancho reached out from underneath the table and plopped a 14 oz black cup on the table. “Ember” was written on the front. “It has a ninety-minute battery life. Your coffee will never get cold again.”

“Oh wow.” Bella saw the veins pulsating in Hancho’s arm as he handed her the cup. “So sweet.”

Bella took that cup to work. Used it daily. But with each sip of coffee, she’d think of Hancho and his stupid father. When was that man ever gonna leave? It had been three weeks and it felt like she was supporting two men.

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