He looked at him coldly, adjusting his scarf with his right hand while holding his umbrella with his left. He dared to say,
"Sotomayor Jina, you will never change..."
"Teodoro Eun-Chan!" she shouted in surprise, running towards him. "What are you doing here? When did you arrive? How did you find me? Where have you been? How was university? Will you be coming back home soon?..."
A frivolous smile appeared on his face, and with his right hand, he made a "stop" gesture, trying to halt Jina's endless barrage of questions.
They walked in the rain until they stopped at a nearby café. Jina looked at her companion from head to toe, admiring him since high school. Everything looked good on Eugene-Chan. She looked at herself again in the reflection of the window glass; she was a mess compared to her friend.
"Are you going to sit down or are you just going to keep staring at yourself
Three months later..."Passengers bound for Switzerland, please board through gate thirty-two... Ladies and gentlemen, due to the reported weather conditions in the major cities of Spain, flights will experience a delay of approximately one hour... Thank you for your patience..."The message in English was replicated in several languages. Jina walked, dragging her heavy travel suitcase, and approached a foreigner with brown hair and a freckled face who held a huge sign with her name written on it."That's me!" she said, pointing to the sign and then pointing to herself.The man smiled and took her luggage, leading her to the car while speaking several words that Jina didn't fully understand.She peeked out of the window, amazed by the monuments, sculptures, and architecture of the buildings. She smiled in awe. Finally, they stopped in front of a small residence l
Paris, France...Eugene-Chan's house was completely silent. Jina spent the afternoon gazing out of the window, often crying. But on that particular day, she felt calm, thinking that Yukio must have returned from Hokkaido and was probably surprised not to find her there. She smiled and looked around for a calendar where she had marked several dates, including that specific day. She closed the curtain of her bedroom window and walked towards Eun-Chan's occupied study."Mmmmmm...""Mmmmmm, what?" asked the writer without taking his eyes off the computer screen."Mmmmmm..." she repeated while organizing her thoughts. "I'm bored!""Being bored in Paris is a crime," he replied while continuing to type. "If you're bored, go out and take a walk. Paris is full of beautiful places, art, fashion, and all those cheesy things you like...""Yes, it's beaut
He entered the office with his shirt untucked, his tie loosely knotted, wearing black glasses. A cigarette rested on his lips, and an elegant Hugo Boss jacket casually hung off his shoulder. The people he bumped into in the hallway greeted him in their usual manner, but behind his back, they murmured among themselves. For the first time since they had known him, they saw him with this somewhat unkempt appearance. He slammed the door shut and poured himself a drink."Isn't it a bit early to start drinking?" Ankit asked, poking his head through the door."The night ended badly, the day started badly..." Yukio tossed a paper ball at him.Ankit caught the paper, hastily unwrapped it, and read it, then looked at his friend."Damn it! That doesn't look good at all." He approached and poured himself a drink to join his friend. After a pause, he interrupted the silence. "Although this confirms our suspicions
Tokyo, Japan..."Why don't you leave work and go out tonight?" she asked, hugging him and kissing his cheeks."Sorry, Tori, but I can't... I have a lot of work," he replied, still staring at the screen of his laptop."Sometimes I feel envious of that computer! You touch that device more than you touch me!" She moved away, angry. "Don't you love me? Aren't you excited about our marriage?""Of course, my love! Don't say such things," he continued staring at his computer screen."I've got everything ready. The dress is beautiful, the invitations have been sent. Just yesterday, I was with your mother, finalizing some details..." She paced back and forth, telling him about each preparation."Yes, dear, it will be wonderful," he replied, still in front of his computer, looking at figures and numbers, checking data.He put the c
The invitations were delivered a month before the ceremony, and the photographs announcing the engagement were published weeks before the scheduled date. Mrs. Aya Tanarro met with Ankit Matsume, Tori's mother, in the morning. There was no doubt that the natural talent of the great Aunt Aya was to appear; they spent the afternoon selecting the menu for the grand reception that would follow the ceremony. "Tori wants something simple," said Mrs. Tanarro. "I agree with you, dear. A champagne tower is an exaggeration," she replied, realizing they needed to reduce some extravagances to lower expenses. Finally, the two came to an agreement, and Mrs. Tanarro returned to her small apartment, complaining about everything she had to do to hide her poverty while, at the same time, envying and criticizing Tori's mother. "That's not the wedding my Yukio deserves... And I had to endure that Matsume woman showing off her daring English hat. It doesn't even suit her; she has a round and chubby fac
Sotomayor fixed her gaze on that woman, appreciating every detail of her dress, her veil, and her slow and steady walk with her father's arm. She observed the bow that Yukio made to Mr. Matsume and received his daughter's hand in the center of the red carpet on the way to the altar. Yukio took her hand; they were just a few steps away from the minister of the ceremony. He walked with pride, but she simply didn't take another step.Sotomayor smiled; the envelope that Tori kept hidden behind the enormous bow of her dress didn't escape her detailed gaze. She recognized that envelope; she knew something was about to happen. She observed the troubled faces of the Matsume and the Tanarro; she enjoyed the show, although she had no idea what she had caused.She liked to play with chance, uncertainty, and destiny; she was excited to think about the countless possibilities that a situation like this could trigger. At that moment, she felt pleasure cou
Tori continued crying on the park bench; the elderly couple left quietly under the pretext of bringing her some water, but they had no intention of returning. At the first opportunity, they turned onto another path in the park.“ I keep seeing strange things in this park..."“ Poor girl, she's heartbroken... Should we go back and help her, dear?"“ If you go back, I'll leave you outside the house, as if I didn't know you just want to keep staring at her legs... Come on, walk towards the house!... Move, it's getting late!"Tori hugged herself, burying her head between her legs. The idea of growing old with her beloved Yukio faded from her mind. A strange contradiction was growing inside her”on one hand, the desire to return to his arms, and on the other hand, the sense of freedom she had experienced hours before made her feel liberated.A hand landed on her
Two hours later...Tori is dancing in the center of the dance floor, surrounded by many men who look at her with desire and lust. The naive little girl is left behind, as is the puritanical woman who couldn't enter a place like this. Her movements in the center of the dance floor accentuate the curves that her dress's corset emphasizes. From the bar, Sotomayor watches her, as if she were the older sister whose duty is to protect her. She raises her glass and toasts in her name as Tori smiles back.She rushes toward the bar and continues to consume a few drinks. "I've danced enough... Now it's your turn!" She pushes her onto the dance floor. "Show me how they dance in Paris!"Sotomayor obeys, stands in the center of the floor, and starts moving sensually like a cat in heat. Her entire body becomes one with the music. She uses her hat as an element of the frenzied dance, gradually attracting glances and ending up surrounded by guys and girls dancing around her. Tori puts down the glass