The Weight of the Heart by Susana Aikin

Author:Susana Aikin [Aikin, Susana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2020-03-16T00:00:00+00:00

A dream was dreamt by Kriemhild the virtuous and the gay

How a wild young falcon she train’d for many a day

Till two fierce eagles tore it; to her there could not be

In all the world such sorrow at this perforce to see.

A noise at the far end entrance door set my heart racing. I threw the book into the drawer and rushed to hide in the shadows behind a row of file cabinets. Marcus walked in humming, reached his desk with light, athletic steps, and scooped up his agenda. He was putting it into his satchel and turning to leave, when he noticed the open drawer. He took a step toward it, and stood examining the messed-up contents. Then he picked up the book and lifted his eyes, scrutinizing the darkness about him for a few agonizing seconds. My heart beat with such force I was sure I would faint even before he found me out.

But Marcus didn’t move. After a moment, the pounding in my chest slowed down, allowing me to home in on the silence. We stood across from each other, I in the darkness, he in the orange hue of the streetlight, and I restraining my breathing while I listened out for his. I watched his shape silhouetted against the window, and for a few seconds, I wanted to stretch my hands and caress his shadow.

The sound of a car screeching and hooting outside in the street tore through the room, breaking the spell, and Marcus put back the book and pushed the drawer shut. Then he left the office with a slower, heavier step.

I slid down toward the carpeted floor and sat with knees pulled into my chest. How would I ever be able to face him at work on Monday? I was certain he knew it was me. Who else would pick a book in English out of his drawer? And why did he have an English version of The Nibelungenlied?

I thought of all sorts of excuses so as not to come into work next week. Nothing would do short of quitting the job, though. Sooner or later I’d have to face him. Although, come to think of it, other girls in the office, including Silvia and Margarita, who had the hots for him, might be snooping around his desk too. I had been told there had been instances in the past when these women poked inside the men’s desks. Their findings fed the comical legends of office lore. A picture of his mother as a young girl was once found in Ventura’s desk, and everyone had roared for months at his expense, seeing that, although well into his forties, he was unmarried and still lived with her. A fat wad of old lottery tickets, presumably unsuccessful, were found in Pablo’s desk, an administrative assistant who was known as the office miser, had also contributed to the general mirth for weeks. And, after a martial arts groin cup was found at Jesús’s, one of the

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