I wake up with renewed energy and with only one goal in mind. To see the Men Fitness publication with Christian's interview. But then I remember something rather important. Christian has distracted me so much, I've forgotten my car parked in front of his apartment.

So today I will have to take a cab. I skip breakfast so as not to waste time and get ready to leave for work. Just before I leave, something catches my attention on the small table by the door.

There, in the same place as always, are my car keys. How strange. Next to them, a note:

Christian dropped your car off nice and early, but he told me not to wake you up.

Kate

I smile as I pick up the keys and leave the apartment. When I'm sitting behind the wheel, I see a note taped to the steering wheel. That is undoubtedly Christian's unmistakable handwriting.

Good morning, I didn't want to wake you up because if I do then I would want to cuddle up next to you and you and I both know what happens when my hands touch your body and yours touch mine, anyway, you'd be late. Last night was pretty fun, see you tonight.

Christian

I smile again as I peel off the note, put it in the glove compartment and drive to work where the new interview publication is waiting for me on my desk.

I enter as usual with the two coffees in my hand and make my way at a brisk pace to Elena's office. I knock and enter after a second without even waiting for her order.

—It' s already here!—I exclaim anxiously.

—Good morning to you too Ana. —Elena says to me while smiling slightly.

—Good morning, I'm sorry, I'm just anxious to see the interview. —I tell her as I put the coffee on her desk.

—It just arrived, you must have a copy on your desk.

—Thank you! —I say excitedly as I quickly leave his office.

I walk quickly to mi office. And there it is, on my desk. I quickly sit down and take the magazine in my hand as my heart races. I don't remember this picture being taken. The cover image is almost full body, from thigh height. His torso is naked and wet, he is almost in profile and facing forward. He has the corner of his lip slightly raised, half smiling and his hair is completely wet and messy.

His hands rest next to his body with wet bandages wrapped around them. And his gaze. His gaze is intense and passionate. Just by looking at his gaze you can tell he loves this sport.

I open the magazine and flip through it to the page where the interview they did with him is. And there are many more pictures of him. Pictures sitting on the couch and more pictures of him training. And even though I already know everything they asked him and the answers, I go back to read it again.

My cell phone starts ringing, insistently. I reach for it and smile as I answer it.

—Have you seen it yet? —he asks on the other end of the line.

—I'm on it. —I answer him while I feel a certain buzz in the background.

—What did you think?

—Mmm, not bad at all.

—Not bad at all. Hey!

—Where are you? —I can hear him with a lot of noise.

—I'm on my way into the hospital to see my mother, but as you can imagine, it's full of paparazzi and a crowd of followers. I don't know how they knew I was coming here.

—I think the news of your return spread quickly.

—Yes. This is when my life starts to get crazy. I hope you're ready for that.

I have no idea how to deal with fame. But I imagine it must be crazy to have to keep track of fans, admirers and paparazzi.

—I hope I am. —I reply, not so sure.

—I'll see you tonight at dinner.

—I'll be looking forward to it. —and he hangs up without further ado.

I stare at the phone. I would have liked a farewell with a little more feeling from him. But I know I can't ask much more from someone who isn't sure what his feelings are.

When Christian arrives at the apartment for dinner that night, I can hear the paparazzi outside buzzing. I know that what they want to know is who owns the apartment. And I also know that pretty soon they're going to find out and start stalking me.

Dinner goes like any other dinner with friends. Christian leaves after midnight with the promise to pick me up the next day to go to the gala together. I know he wanted to take me to his apartment from today, but if he's not sure of his feelings, it's best that this relationship doesn't get out of control and take it slower.

And while he says goodbye to me, inside the apartment, of course, I pretend that everything is fine.

Later that night I'm still tossing and turning in my bedroom bed. I can't sleep. All I do is think about him. I miss him. And I think I know exactly what the cause of my sleeplessness is. I've been without sex for two days now and I'm starting to experience the effects of pent-up sexual tension. I either need a good fucking, or a punching bag. Preferably the former. But I'm to blame. I'm the one who told him, no. Again today.

My phone starts ringing. Who could it be at this hour? It's after 1:00 am. I pick it up on the nightstand and look at the screen, then smile as I read the message.

— "If you want sex, just call me, I'm awake."

He just read my thoughts. I better answer him.

— "I was just casually thinking of you."

His reply comes rather quickly.

— "I imagine your thoughts aren't very chaste" —I smile as I type the answer.

— "I can't think of anything but kinky when I think of you."

I stare at the phone screen as I smile waiting for a quick response, which never comes. As time passes the smile begins to fade from my face — did I say something I shouldn't have? Ten minutes later I get a text from Christian. And his reply gives me a lot to think about.

—"I think you have formed a misconception of me"—his response gives me a lot to think about, but I answer him anyway.

—"That's the only thing I know about you, you're not very communicative" —there's your answer, this will give you something to think about.

After that message, I don't receive any more. I don't know exactly what he meant, but I know at this hour I'm not going to find out. I curl up in bed, close my eyes and stop thinking about sex and Christian.

Christian comes for me at noon. Leaving the apartment is a challenge. Outside there are hundreds of paparazzi and reporters on the prowl. We can barely walk as the flashes blind me. And then the questions from the reporters are not long in coming.

—Christian! Who is she?

—Christian! Will you compete for the belt again?

Christian ignores them while smiling and then the screams of the female fans are heard. I didn't know there were so many women who love this sport, or rather Christian.

—Christian! Marry me!

—Christian! I love you!

Christian doesn't comment at all. He just ignores them. He drapes his arm over my shoulder, covering me protectively and leads me to the car. I quickly open the door, get in and he closes it. He quickly turns around and gets in too, leaving the screaming crowd outside.

He starts the car and speeds off towards his apartment leaving all his stalkers behind.

—You've got a crowd following you around the town. —I comment to him as he slows down once he has lost sight of them all.

—You have no idea, it's early yet, by the time we get to the gala, it will be even worse.

When we get to his apartment there are some paparazzi there. Luckily the car windows are tinted and they can't access the building's subway garage.

Christian hasn't said much the whole way. He is pensive. I imagine this whole situation of his return to fame must be getting to him. We walk up to his apartment and he leads me into the dining room.

—I hope you're hungry. -he says with a smile as he guides me to a bar stool.

On the counter are several covered plates that Christian uncovers one by one, but he doesn't sit down next to me.

—Won't you join me? —I ask him as I stare at him.

—I'll eat something later, I have an appointment with the psychologist in half an hour. —he answers looking at his watch.

—And what will I do while you're gone?

—Get ready for the gala. In a few minutes a team I've hired for you will be arriving.

—A team? —I don't understand anything.

—Yes, you know. Massage, make-up artist, hairdresser, dressmaker. Everything you need to make you look beautiful and radiant for the gala.

—That's not necessary Christian.

—I must go, enjoy your lunch and your afternoon, I'll see you in a few hours.

He kisses me on the forehead and leaves.

And for him to leave like that, it just makes me furious. Not just because he's barely been with me for five minutes in the apartment. His comment just pissed me off. I don't need all the equipment of a beauty salon to look beautiful, I can do that on my own.

I sit at the counter, alone, to eat lunch, but I barely manage to eat a bite. My stomach is in knots. I know this gala is important to Christian, even more so now that he's becoming famous again. And I partly understand his desire to make the person next to him look good. But if he had just told me that I don't need any of that to look beautiful, it would have been different.

So when the beauty team arrives to get me ready, I'm not in a good mood. Between the lack of sex and Christian's comment, everything has been getting worse. But I don't plan to object to doing anything they tell me to do. I don't want to disappoint Christian tonight. So, I let them do whatever they ask me to do.

When the team leaves after several hours of endless torture, I'm perfectly made up and ready for the gala. All I need to do is get dressed. On the bed in the guest room I have the elegant dress I will wear tonight. I have closed the door. I don't want Christian to see what I'm wearing under the dress.

I know he arrived a few minutes ago and went straight to his room to shower and get ready for the gala. So I better finish getting ready. I take off the white bathrobe I've been wearing all afternoon and slip on the black lace panties.

I have hypersensitive skin after the waxing and the creams and massages I have received. I felt pampered like I had never felt before. So, in part the anger at his comment diminished. I sit on the bed and slip on the black and gold heels that match the delicate little chain around my neck and the bracelet on my hand.

And then I put on the dress I have chosen.

It's black with a deep V-neckline that reaches below my breasts. At the waist and one side, four black buttons elegantly join the two pieces of the dress making it with an elegant slit from the thigh of my left leg to the floor. I admire myself in front of the mirror, I think Christian is going to have a heart attack.

My hair has been elegantly pulled back in a bun behind, leaving a few strands of hair over my face. I smile as I admire the result of so much torture.

—Are you ready? —Christian knocks softly on the door and tries to enter the room, but doesn't succeed. —Have you locked it?

—I'll be out in a moment. —I shout at him while smiling.

—I wait for you in the living room, we must leave now or we'll be late.

I feel his footsteps walking down the corridor away from the room. I take a last look at myself in front of the mirror. The makeup they have put on me is simple and brings out the color and size of my eyes. It is perfect. I take the small black purse and leave the room.