A Unexpected Encounter

The sunlight flooded the entire room, waking me up. I stretch while gazing at the beautiful view of Barcelona and the sea. It was a great way to wake up in the morning. I looked to the side, and X wasn't in bed anymore. As was customary, I found a note with my nickname written on it:



“An unexpected issue arose with one of the party's beverage suppliers.

Feel at home. I'll be back soon.

Yours,

X.”



I hold it close to my lips, lost in thought. I could wait for him and see what the day had in store for me by his side, or I could go home, change clothes, and rest well to enjoy X's party. Furthermore, I smile and then get out of bed, picking up my clothes. The second option was undoubtedly the best for me. I take a quick shower, and within minutes, I'm ready to head home. I'm walking down the marble stairs when I hear the sound of the doorbell, which surprises me. Did X forget his keys? I quickened my pace and then opened the door.



“Pandora?” I exclaim, surprised to find none other than X's ex-wife at the door.



“Dália Penedo, right?” Pandora asks, removing her sunglasses.

“Salazar,” I add, still not believing it was her. “Dália Penedo Salazar.”

“How are you?” She asks in a friendly tone while touching her face to mine from both sides.

“I'm well, and you?” I respond, accepting the affectionate hug she offers next.

“Good, good...” Pandora comments, still standing by the door. “Is he here?”

“No, he had an unexpected issue with one of the beverage suppliers for the house inauguration tomorrow,” I explain.

“Alright,” she says, looking inside the house and then back at me. “Beautiful house.”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” I apologize, taking a step to the side. “Please come in.”



Her heels touch the marble floor but make no sound at all, as if she could float. Pandora examines every painting and sculpture in the hallway and continues into the house, heading toward the music room. I close the door and then follow her, as I have no idea why she's here or even what she's capable of. When I entered the room, she was already near the black piano that I insisted on having in the space. Her fingers glide over the keys as she admires the Greek painting canvases I hung to harmonize with the house's style.



“Funny,” Pandora says, looking at the piano again and then turning to me. “He never showed any interest in music or works of art. Let alone a grand piano and Greek art.”

“In his defense, the decoration was heavily influenced by me. Especially this space he never even enters.”

“Congratulations! You're taking care of him very well,” Pandora comments, giving me a narrow-eyed look.

“Thank you, but I just did my job. He bought the house from the real estate agency where I work, and I was responsible for the decoration,” I explain, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Some clients struggle with arranging their space, and the real estate agency offers this service too.”

“What a wonderful coincidence, don't you think?” Pandora asks, moving towards the couch and elegantly taking a seat.

“I don't understand?” I say, seriously.

“He's choosing the exact real estate agency you work at. It's either a wonderful coincidence or something. Someone motivated him to seek out that particular place.”

“I don't know what led your husband to choose the real estate agency. It's not my place to ask those kinds of questions,” I argue, seriously. “Market research is handled by a different department.”

“Ex-husband,” Pandora corrects me, seriously. “I suppose you already know that.”

“I'm sorry,” I say, holding back the urge to take a deep breath and run away.

“I bet he's told you everything,” Pandora comments, leaning against the couch.

“What I can affirm is that he's always been very discreet about his personal life.” I explain, sitting next to her.

“Discretion. Without a doubt, that's not the word I'd choose to define him,” Pandora jabs, showing a hint of irritation.

“I'm genuinely sorry for both of you from the bottom of my heart. Divorce isn't easy, I know. I know how you must be feeling about all of this, as I'm going through the same thing.”

“Divorce sisters,” Pandora lets out.

“I know it's not easy to receive a separation request from the man we love.”

“What? Do you think...? Oh, my God!" Pandora exclaims, raising an eyebrow. She gets up from the couch and walks towards the bar, grabbing two glasses and pouring a bit of whiskey into each. She holds the glasses and then hands one to me, saying, “Indeed, my husband is very discreet with you.”

“Thank you,” I say, holding the glass without understanding anything. I watch her sit on the opposite couch and down her whiskey in one go.

“Dália, I didn't tell you this for you to pity me,” Pandora claims, seriously. “I'm telling you as a warning. If you have any hope that he'll be exclusive with you, know that he won't be.”

“Don't worry about that, because we have nothing,” I say.

“But you did,” Pandora argues. “Even when he went to meet you in Africa, there were others... And I can assure you that right now he might be meeting another.”

“As I told you before, we have nothing between us,” I repeat, getting irritated.

“Then what are you doing here on a Saturday morning, opening his house door in a nightgown?” Pandora questions.

“Doce, I'm home,” X announces, opening the front door.

“Doce?” Pandora repeats it in a whispered tone with a satisfied smile.

“In the music room,” I call out towards the door. “You have a visitor.”

“Really? Who is it?” X asks from a distance. I hear his footsteps entering the room. He smiles at me, but his face loses its brightness when he looks at the other couch and finds his ex-wife, Pandora. “Pandora?”

“Hello, dear.”

“Well, since you're here, I can leave,” I say, getting up from the couch. “Pandora, it was nice to see you again.”



I walk towards X, and all I offer him is a disappointed look. I pass by him and go to the music room door, which I make sure to close to give them privacy. Of course, as I do this, I still have the opportunity to hear X say:



“What did you tell her?”