From Now On...
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 needed to stay connected with the world.
When we returned home, we decided to sell the loft. Only the loft, because we managed to keep our apartment. With the money from the loft, we decided to invest in the food industry and Carlos's course. But still, something was missing for us, and that's when we made the crazy decision to move to another country. And here we are, packed up and in Brazil, opening a restaurant. I became the manager, and I have to admit that I'm enjoying it a lot. Of course, I'm also dedicated to our children. Carlos never wanted to know about the conversation I had with X, much less the outcome. And about X... I never heard from him again.
***
After another exhausting day preparing for our grand opening, we finally arrive at our apartment. One thing I insisted on when choosing this place was having a view of the sea, and we managed to find it. Barra da Tijuca, a neighborhood I really like, has many opportunities, and our apartment is just a few blocks from the restaurant. We get home and hear the children playing in the living room. Juan practically runs to my husband's arms.
"Papi!"
I look at Marisol, who is holding onto the edge of the coffee table, and then lets go, walking slowly and balancing herself until she reaches me. I can't contain my emotion at seeing our daughter taking her first steps. Carlos looks at me with that beautiful smile that melts me, and I hold his hand contentedly. As for us, I can say with certainty that I'm happy with my husband. We haven't become the perfect couple, and our problems haven't disappeared like magic, but who said happiness is perfect?
***
After our family time, we put our children to bed and then go to our room, where Carlos goes to take a shower while I return to my reading. The final chapters are emotional, and I don't want to miss a single comma.
"And how's the book?" Carlos asks, coming back to the room wearing only a towel.
"Exciting. I hope the author writes a sequel." I respond, excited. "It's really hard to detach from this story."
"Why don't you send her an email asking for a sequel?" Carlos suggests, lying down beside me.
"Really? Do you think she would respond to me?" I ask back.
"It's worth a try." My husband answers, kissing me afterward.
I glance at my phone once again and then open my email. What could it hurt, right?
x@rlc.com Sweet 03/25/2015
It was the first email I received from him in such a long time. I automatically look at my husband, who is already turned to the side, sleeping peacefully. My finger glides across the screen as I bite my lip, contemplating what might be in that email. I won't lie, I believe that at this point there's hardly any room for lies; sometimes I thought of him. Wondering how he was, what he was doing... Maybe this email will finally help satisfy that curiosity.
—————————————————————————
To: Sweet
From: x@rlc.com
Sent: Wednesday, March 25, 2015, 11:35:41
To: daliapenedosalazar@hotmail.com
Sweet,
It took me a long time to process your words in that note...
I know I made many mistakes, and I've been thinking about them all this time. I can justify some with the fact that we couldn't be together at first, or that I didn't want to admit my feelings for you.
My divorce process has concluded, and now I carry on alone with my life here in Barcelona, in that house, you picked out so well for me. I needed all this time to erase the last few years we spent together from my mind, even though you remain present in every room and whenever I hear someone asking for an Obikwa Pinotage Cabernet Sauvignon.
Sometimes I catch myself looking for your flowing hair amidst the crowd, your smile, your eyes... Despite your father confirming that you left. Don't worry, that was the last conversation I had with him, and I never sought him out again.
In any case, I'm writing to thank you for everything.
I'm content with your choice, and I also intend to find happiness in my own way...
However, I want to make it clear that if things don't work out for you, know that we can belong to each other.
I'm always just an email away from you.
With love,
Alexander Vicenzo Vargas.
"Mr. X."
___________________________________________________
I finish reading the email and then close my eyes, lost in thought. When I open them again, I've already decided in my mind. I open a new email:
________________________________________________
To: Pauliny Nunes
From: daliapenedosalazar@hotmail.com
Sent: Monday, March 30, 2015, 8:22:41 PM
To: daliapenedosalazar@hotmail.com
Subject: Possible Book about Mr.X
Hello Pauliny,
You know I'm a compulsive reader.
I've read everything and never come across a story about a relationship...
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