About a week later…— Look at that beautiful fish! - says Carlos, smiling at me as he tries to hold his fish. Which makes me laugh until my belly hurts.Carlos is already a week with me in Africa and these have been the best days of my life, really my husband is showing that he is changed and that he can spend a week without thinking about work and dedicated to me. He visited Lac Rose and saw the work I was doing and was filled with pride.We stayed a few days there, we rode on camels, we met some other villages and then Estevão recommended, since my husband likes to fish, we went to the other village and rented a boat. And here we are in the middle of the lake on a beautiful sunny day fishing. Despite the relaxed atmosphere, my mind boils, X still arises in my thoughts… I’m still afraid that this change of Carlos is only fleeting and that… after all, nothing helped me to have come to Africa, it was just another wasted time.— A franc for his thoughts. – says Carlos, putting the fish
I’m in shock… I’m only three weeks in Madrid, there’s no way I’m pregnant… unless… no… can’t… can’t be…— Congratulations to both. - says the doctor, awakening from my thoughts.— Thank you. - says Carlos, excited. He holds my hand and smiles.— Thank you, doctor. - I say, getting up.— When can I leave?— Today .- says the doctor. —There will only be a few more hours for observation, okay?— Of course. - I answer, thoughtful.I take those hours of observation to think… I’m pregnant… I’m finally pregnant… I touch my belly… my son finally… then anguish arises… but… who will be the father of my baby? ***We left the hospital, my husband is radiant, touches my belly several and several times, talks a lot about pregnancy, but I can not pay attention. We get in the car and I admire the landscape of the hospital. I’m happy, but thoughtful. I feel that I should talk about my pregnancy to X, but at the same time I do not want to. He’ll suspect that his son may be his… and things can get bi
I open my eyes, and I’m sitting on the couch in my living room. I feel my heavy arms and a sucking in my right breast, so I look down and find the most beautiful image I’ve ever seen in my life: a black-haired, smooth-haired baby falling on my forehead, with closed eyes that was sucking on my chest, my son. I touch his hair, face and see his cheeks turn pink.I feel complete, pure and peaceful. I look at his clothes, is a boy. A beautiful little boy.Agreement accomplished and excited. I look at Carlos who was sleeping peacefully, but my excitement does not allow me to leave him alone, so I begin to shake my husband until he opens his eyes, frightened. He touches my belly directly.— Are you okay? Is everything okay with our son? - question.— He will pull the side of his family... is a boy. – I say, happy.— What do you mean? How do you know? — Why I dreamed of him. – I answer, quiet.—Dalia, it was just a dream, full stomach dream. - says Carlos, smiling.— I know what I’m talking a
— 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
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