— Tiago.— No … Lorenzo.— No.— Murilo.— No… no, no, no, no…— My father’s name doesn’t… let me see…— Pablo. - says Carlos, touching my belly. He settles in our bed, looking at me. — It’s a beautiful name.—Pablo? Pablo is so common. - argument looking at the book of names. — Besides, do you know what Pablo means? It means “small” or “short stature”. My son will not be a dwarf.—All right… – says Carlos, —What do you suggest?— Carlos. - I answer, looking at him. He smiles without grace, he’s about to contradict me. — Besides being his name, I found the meaning beautiful. It means “man”, “warrior” or “man of the people”. This is how I wish it to be, my son.— I accept … on one condition.- says Carlos, enigmatic.— And what would it be? - I ask, suspicious.— If his first name is Juan. Then his name would be Juan Carlos. What do you think?—Let me see the meaning. - I reply. — means “God is full of grace”, “graced by God” or “the grace and mercy of God” and “God forgives”.— So…? -
2 o'clock in the morningWe arrived at the hospital, I was taken care of by the doctor, Ruy who led me to the triage room, where he performed that horrible touch test to know what was my dilation.— Well, you’re three dilated, and you have to reach ten for it to be born. - explains Ruy, seriously. — You can go to the delivery room to prepare and wait for the next tests.I went to the delivery room to prepare myself. I waited with Carlos for the arrival of Rúbia who immediately came to my room.—So Juan decided to be born? - asks Rúbia doing a new touch test. — For the record, is it really going to be normal childbirth?—Yes, without a doubt. - I answer. I always wanted to give bir
The minutes seem like hours… doesn’t pass … anything happens… no sign… I watch the door like a guard dog. Then I see an incubator coming out with my son inside her full of wires… my world ended right then and there.— What’s going on with Juan. - I ask the nurse, who ignores me. Insurance at the other doctor, but nobody tells me anything.I go back to my room and get my cell phone, I need to talk to Carlos. Disco for him crying…that can’t be happening to my Juan.—Carlos. - I say as soon as my husband answers, desperate. — Please… come quickly… Juan… Juan… love comes here.
"Hi, X. We need to talk," I whispered, looking at the door."Dalia, I'm sorry for that night...""X, I had a child," I blurted out. Tears began to roll down my face. "He was born yesterday, and he's beautiful... just as I dreamed.""What are you trying to say, Dalia?""X..." I said, crying, looking at the window. I need to tell him... he needs to know... "He's sick... he has nodules that might be genetic...""I can't believe you did this!"I quickly hang up my phone. My whole body freezes. That voice... I turn around and find Filomena standing at the door with a bouquet of flowers, shocked at me."Is this child X's?" Filomena asks, shocked.Filomena stares at me, waiting for an answer I didn't even have. I look at her and tell her about what had really happened, without omitting the night with X and then with Carlos. I wasn't trying to justify or ask for forgiveness, I needed to let it all out. I needed to tell her because I knew she would help me find a way to navigate through all of
A week later...My life in the following days consisted of leaving my mother's house and going to the hospital to be with Juan. Carlos managed to take time off and accompanied me every day. The ritual was the same: pumping milk, listening to the doctors say that Juan was revived once again because he had stopped breathing, and spending the night with my son. A week later... My life in the following days consisted of leaving my mother's house and going to the hospital to be with Juan. Carlos managed to take time off and accompanied me every day. The ritual was the same: pumping milk, listening to the doctors say that Juan was revived once again because he had stopped breathing, and spending the night with my son. I spent most of my time with my hand on the incubator, touching his chest and pleading for whatever it was to stop. I couldn't sleep because I felt that if I slept, he would leave me, and I couldn't allow that. Carlos slept for both of us in one of the chairs while I watched o
2012My hand slides slowly with utmost care, holding the final and most important object, the golden crown, onto the three-tiered cake - a blue and white striped base, white and blue on top - which takes its rightful place on the main table adorned with teddy bears, mini antique gold chests, flowers in vases matching the cake's colors, jars, and a few crowns. In fact, crowns are present in every corner of the party decoration, including a huge one with Juan's name underneath, on the backdrop made of blue and gold balloons. Because my son is the king of my life, and no theme compares to him. Actually, I never understood how a mother who loves her child so much decides to include such cliché characters in a first birthday party... My son is unique, and he will always have something incomparable, in the best Penedo style. Oh, and Salazar, of course.On the tables, I chose white balloon flowers and a helium-filled blue balloon in the center, matching the white and blue colors chosen to de
—————————————————————————RE: NGOFrom: richard@hotmail.comSent: Saturday, November 3, 2012 09:03:45To: Dalia Penedo Salazar (daliapenedosalazar@hotmail.com)Hello Dalia,This is Richard, we met in Africa. I'm sending this email because I have a project that I know is closely related to you. It's an NGO whose objective is to help the children of Africa. Like you, they are in great need of support.The NGO will have a stronger presence in Guinea, where, as you saw, children are most affected by child malnutrition, abandonment, and lack of education. One of the goals is to establish agreements with three orphanages, as well as build a school, a health center, and a food supply facility. The NGO will also collaborate with various other social projects, including Lac Rose (Senegal), Mali, Mozambique, and Cape Verde.I would like you to be part of this initiative, serving as our manager, helping to turn this dream into a reality. In two weeks, I'll be in Barcelona negotiating with a pote
"What do you mean you don't know when you'll be back?" I ask, irritated. "You're only a two-hour flight away." "Dalia, please...""No, Carlos. If you want to explain, I ask that you do it in person and as soon as possible," I say, hanging up the phone.I'm not willing to listen to Carlos's lame excuses, especially not over the phone. This time, things have changed, and he needs to start keeping the promises he makes to me. I notice Richard looking at me curiously, so I smile, trying to pretend everything is fine. We continue walking through the house, analyzing each room, because the sooner we start working on the house, the faster the NGO will be ready to operate.***Two weeks later...The sound of my alarm clock indicates that my day is beginning, and like every day, my hand throws it to the floor as my body refuses to get up. I turn to the other side of the bed, which is empty once again: Carlos hasn't returned from Lisbon since our last conversation. I get up and go to the bathr
BRAZIL, MARCH 31, 2015.I'm engrossed in my phone, just a few lines away from finishing the book I'm reading, which, as incredible as it may seem, resonates with many aspects of my marriage. I'm so engrossed in the plot that I disconnect from everything else:"Dália!" my husband calls, drawing my attention. I look towards the wooden door from which he emerges with his charming smile. "Come see."I put down my phone and walk to the door, stepping outside where my husband stands on the sidewalk, looking at the facade. I join him and also start to admire the bold letters:Carlos's Delicacies"It's perfect!" I compliment, admiring the front of our restaurant.Yes, a lot has changed in my life... in our lives. After flying to Paris, we made some decisions. The first was Carlos quitting his job. He insisted on throwing his phone from the top of the Eiffel Tower when he finished his call with Rubens. I did the same with the real estate agency. However, I didn't throw my phone because we need
"Passengers of flight 357 to Lisbon, boarding will take place at gate C... Attention, passengers of flight 357, bound for Lisbon, boarding will take place at gate C..."This was what the announcement was saying when I arrived at the airport just a few minutes before my husband's flight was due to depart. Unlike what you see in movies, buying a ticket to enter the departure area isn't as difficult as it seems, because there wasn't a huge line in front of me, to begin with for buying a ticket."Good morning, ma'am, how can I assist you?""I need a ticket for any international flight departing right now.""Right now? Ah, well..." the young man starts, opening his screen.However, the clerk who attended to me wasn't very fast."Young man, I need to enter the departure area in thirty minutes," I say, looking at the departure and arrival display screen.Knowing my husband, it was unlikely he bought a first-class ticket or even a VIP one. As he always used to argue: at the moment of death, t
After leaving my children with the nanny and taking a shower, I head to the address of the summons, which happens to be Elson's office address. I press the elevator button that takes me to the penultimate floor in a matter of seconds. The panoramic view of the city welcomes me, and then I approach the receptionist:"Good morning, I'm Dália Penedo Salazar and I received a summons for today.""Good morning, Mrs. Salazar. Just a moment to inform Dr. Elson that you're here" says the receptionist.She smiles in my direction, raises her index finger, and then turns to speak on the phone. The receptionist exchanges a few words amid fake giggles and hair tosses, then turns to me, saying:"Dr. Elson is waiting for you in the conference room. Please follow me."She stands up from her seat, adjusting her tight but elegant purple dress, making me question my choice of wearing wide-legged pants and a white shirt. The receptionist says a few things, but I don't retain anything in my mind because al
X...As always, the night with you was wonderful and unforgettable. Your touch, your scent, your kiss, and the way you make love to me will always be etched in my mind. As well as your words...You were very important in my life. I tried to fight the desire I felt for you all these years, and lost the battle several times. You are a part of me; my life didn't make much sense until you appeared, and I'm grateful to you for being my friend, confidant, my lover...It's undeniable that we are perfect for each other, that we have harmony and chemistry... in bed.Our relationship boils down to the bed, to sex, and it has always been that way...A few years ago, I would have given anything to live this relationship beyond the bedroom door, but today I understand that it's not possible, and I know you will understand that too.When you said that you wanted me and couldn't live without me... I didn't feel what I wanted to feel when I heard those words. I know the first thing that came to your
My eyes search X's face for any trace of falsehood. His jaw is relaxed, and his eyes are serene... He turns towards the table where he tossed the envelope and retrieves it. Then he turns towards me, holding it up in my direction.“Open it, so you can confirm what I'm telling you,” he says.I take the envelope while taking a deep breath. My trembling hands struggle to tear the paper... or some greater force didn't want me to discover the truth. I press harder, and finally, it gives way, allowing me to see the report that I unfold calmly. There it is: according to the examination conducted using Carlos's blood, Juan was his son. I breathe a sigh of relief, but then the feeling of regret hits me. I could have avoided the dinner with Carlos if I had opened that damned envelope.“So? Am I right or not?” X asks.“You are,” I whisper as I let my body slide into one of the chairs. I stare at X and then ask what came to my mind. “How is that possible?”“I was born with a lack of reproductive d
Carlos wipes away his tears as he looks at the paternity test. His hands smooth the paper before he places it back on the table, taking a deep breath. His brown eyes lock onto mine, and then he says:“I don't want to know.”“Carlos, please,” I whisper.“Juan will always be my son, and no piece of paper will say otherwise,” Carlos says, pressing his index finger against the paper repeatedly. He hands me back the envelope, wiping his face. “He has been my son for four years, and he always will be. Juan Carlos is my son, he is a Salazar, and he always will be.”“Whatever you say,” I agree, putting the envelope away once again.“Does he know?” Carlos asks, looking at me seriously. His gaze is a sea of disappointment that I can't bear to meet.“No,” I reply, wiping my face. “He has no idea.”“If I were in his shoes, I'd want to know if I have a child out there,” Carlos claims.“Carlos, please...”“He has the right to know, Dália,” Carlos argues. “Tell him.”“Alright, I'll do that,” I affir
“What? How? When?”The sommelier approaches with our waters, pouring them into our glasses while pretending not to notice my tear-streaked face and the tense atmosphere. How did my husband know everything? How? I couldn't comprehend...“Africa,” Carlos reveals, withdrawing his hand from mine and then sliding his fingers through the cutlery without looking at me. “You always had the terrible habit of leaving your things open. When you traveled, I decided to use the home computer for work... I saw it all. Your conversations, your emails, you're asking him to call you...”“Why didn't you...?”“Why didn't I tell you? Or why didn't I leave you when I found out?” Carlos questions, thoughtful. “Simple, I loved you, Dália. When I read everything, I felt guilty. I threw you into his arms, but I wasn't ready to lose you... Give up on you. I was sincere when I showed up in Africa. I really wanted to be the husband you deserved, because if I could manage that, I knew I'd forget that man once and
La Barca looked as beautiful as that day when we came for the first time; that's what I was thinking as the concierge led me to the reserved table on the terrace. He pulls out a chair for me, and I sit down promptly. He steps away, and I find myself admiring the nighttime view of Barcelona while my mind wandered, considering the possibilities. There were chances Carlos might not come or might come with someone else. Even the possibility of being followed, and X showing up there. Regardless, I tried to convince myself to see it through. I place my hands in front of my face, repeating to myself: I needed to put an end to this, I needed to...“Dália?” Carlos calls, standing in front of me. “Is everything okay?”“Hi, Carlos,” I say, adjusting my hands on the table. “Yes, it is.”“Would you like something to drink before choosing your dishes?” the sommelier asks.“Just water, please,” I say, nervously unable to look at the young man.“Wow...”“What?” I ask quickly.“For you to order water,
I spun the envelope in my hands. I had buried that desire to know who Juan's father was many years ago, even now with everything that's happening. However, as they say, the truth always comes out. My fingers would glide over the edges in a simple gesture, and everything would be revealed. All it would take is my fingers coming together and tearing open the edge, and that's it. Simple... easy... Yet, I didn't feel like I was the one who should open the envelope. I didn't feel entitled to do so. I take a deep breath and then place it on my coffee table. Furthermore, I stand up and walk to the hallway, where I grab my purse, open it, and take out my cell phone. I scroll through my call list until I reach a specific number—the number of the person I believe has the right to know. After a few rings, the line is answered.“Hello?”“Hi, Carlos,” I say calmly.“Is something wrong?” Carlos asks, concerned.“We need to talk...”“Dália, if it's about the summons, know that it's for the best this