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As soon the "lesson" finished, I went to the bathroom, and stayed there for a good quarter of an hour: I spent it almost entirely in front of the mirror, looking at myself, to see if something had changed in me, if you could see that I had kissed another man, who was not my husband.

I washed my lips with soap, rubbing hard as if

they were really dirty, and then I rushed to take the bus home.

As I ran my thoughts were galloping too.

I was a married woman, and Pietro also had a wife, even though he never talked about her.

What had I been thinking?

***

Filippo had not arrived yet.

Good.

I would prepare the hunter's chicken that he likes so much to be forgiven for what he will never know, and to seal my mute promise that I would never do it again.

How would I be able to kiss him?

Would it still be the same or had something changed, that afternoon?

He arrived when it was already dark and giving me an apathetic kiss on the forehead got me out of

the bind of finding out if he would feel the taste of Pietro on my lips.