Tonight I'm Loving You

Enrique Iglesias

The very mention of his name makes most females' hearts flip. They drool over his Hispanic exterior and his soft, angelic voice. But there's more to him than that...

He's a womanizing man whore.

A lying heart breaker.

A deceitful dick hole.

If I ever see that worthless, conniving bastard again, I'll kill him. Of course, I blame my own naive stupidity, but that was a while ago. I've sworn at myself for years for my mistake.

That mistake turned into a blessing. My little girl Satia. She's six now and very mature for her age. Unfortunately, she's a mini replica of her father. Dark hair, olive skin, beautiful brown eyes. That's what I always loved about Enrique--his eyes. They could melt your heart and your every line of defense in an instant.

Yes, I slept with Enrique Iglesias. Not only that, I fell so hard for him, it made me completely blind. It was just a fling to him; a secret, three month facade located on a beach house in Spain.

I was studying Spanish Art in Madrid when I met him. "We" (more like just "I") fell in love and I was his "el verdadero amor". Then, when I told him I was pregnant, he left me. Just like that. I gave up my life, my education that I was lucky to have, and he just took a plane back to L.A. I never heard from him again.

I'm still living in Madrid, making it the place where I hope to graduate. Its too beautiful of a city and if my parents got word that I was back in the States...We won't think about that right now.

"Mom?"

I looked up from my thesis at my little girl as she perched herself on a stool across the counter from me.

"What, hun?"

"Can Rosa and I got to the museum Saturday?"

I smiled. "Sure."

Since I was still taking classes during the day to get my Masters, I had a nanny watch Satia when she wasn't in school. I wasn't the best mother, but it was better than leaving her alone, right?

"Mom?"

"Hm?" I asked, without looking up from my writing.

"Who's my daddy?"

I closed my eyes. Setting my pencil down slowly, I let out a long breath and looked up at her with a flip of my blond hair. Leaning against my crossed arms, I said, "You don't have a daddy. You have a father, but not a daddy."

"What's his name?"

"Why are you so interested all of sudden?" I inquired.

"All my friends have papás, but I don't." Her brown eyes looked up at me sadly.

That look nearly tore the heart from my chest. "Sweetie, I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you stay together?"

I sighed again. "Its...complicated."

"Satia, stop bothering your mamá," Rosa said sternly, coming into the kitchen. "She has her homework to do."

Satia jumped down from her seat and Rosa gave me a sympathetic look. I shrugged halfheartedly. I knew I'd have to explain to Satia about her father eventually, I just hoped it wouldn't have to be this soon.

|

I packed my papers into my satchel and grabbed an apple from the table. "Rosa? Class ends early today so I'll pick up Satia today from school!" I called.

"Are you sure?" Her voice floated down from the narrow, spiral staircase.

"Yes, don't worry!"

At that moment, there was a knock at the door.

My eyebrows scrunched together in curiosity. Who could that be? I walked over to the door and opened it.

The apple fell from my hand, my jaw dropping, eyes going wide. It was like the shock had sucked the oxygen from my lungs.

I took in a ragged breath, only able to utter one word.

His name.

"Enrique..."