A Night of Confessions

The hotel where X is staying seems brighter than usual. I take a deep breath and walk towards the restaurant, where I inquire about the reservation in X's name. The young blonde promptly smiles, clearly being another one of his admirers. She walks towards our table, where he is sitting, enjoying the pianist playing something melancholic. X turns his face towards us, unable to hide the smile when he sees me in front of him. He stands up, approaches me, and takes my hand, bringing it to his lips.

"It's a pleasure to be in your company, Dália Penedo," X jests.

"Let's sit down," I reply, trying my best to maintain composure. He steps back and then pulls out the chair for me to sit. As I settle in, he lightly brushes his hand against my back and then takes the seat across from me. The waiter appears with the hotel's wine and beverage menu, handing me one. "Thank you."

I open the menu to choose something, even though I don't feel like drinking. I need to keep my mouth occupied and far away from X, at least until the end of dinner. I feel him looking at me, which takes the utmost effort not to do the same.

"If you don't mind, I've already chosen your wine," X comments, catching my attention. "Obikwa Pinotage Cabernet Sauvignon, that was the name of the wine you chose that night."

"So, everything was coldly calculated, because I'm still surprised," I say, lightly placing the menu on the table. "How could you be so sure that I would come?"

"I already told you," X replies, relaxing in his chair, smiling. "I know you."

"Well," I respond, "I'm no longer that foolish young woman who drinks Obikwa until the bottle is empty."

"I researched this wine, did you know that there's a fascinating story behind its name?" X asks, changing the subject.

"No, I didn't," I answer, wondering what he's getting at.

"Its name comes from one of the oldest and most fearless tribes in South Africa, the Obikwa, who adopted the name as a tribute to the ostrich, which represents the life force and resilience for this people. The natives of the region survived harsh conditions and inhospitable soil over the years, using the ostrich eggshell as an ideal container to store and preserve water during drought periods, keeping it pure and fresh. Do you understand?"

"No," I reply honestly.

"You said you changed, that you're no longer the young woman I knew," X begins, lightly touching my wrist and making circular motions, "But just like the eggshell, you've become resistant to every complicated situation in your life." He continues, "But I know that deep inside, the Dália with all her freshness is still there, just waiting to reveal herself."

"Excuse me, gentlemen," the waiter interrupts, snapping me out of the spell X cast on me.

I keep staring at X as the young man serves a glass of champagne for me and then hands one to my companion, which surprises me.

"Champagne?" I ask, pointing at X.

"What's wrong?" X asks, lightly touching the glass to his lips as the drink passes between his teeth. He slowly places the glass back on the table, furrowing his brow. "What's the matter?"

"As far as I know you, I know you only drink alcoholic beverages on special occasions," I reply, gazing at X.

"This is a special occasion," X says, smiling. He leans in and touches my hand to my face. "A meeting between two old friends deserves to be celebrated."

"I'm starting to think it was a mistake to come here," I say, pulling my hand away and leaning back in my chair, finishing my glass of champagne in one gulp. "You said you would listen to me, and so far, I'm the only one who's been listening to your compliments."

"Compliments? I'm just breaking the ice between us... or the iceberg you created," X says, taking another sip.

"I created an iceberg?" I question, annoyed. "I'm the one who was left with just a farewell note and an empty bed. So excuse me if I can't pretend everything is fine when it's not." I finish another glass.

"And I already apologized," X argues calmly. "What else do I have to do for you to believe me?"

"I already forgave you. I just don't want to make the same mistake again... believing in an illusion," I reply, feeling nervous.

"I'm here," X says, holding my hand and placing it on my face. "I'm not an illusion; I'm not here to make you go through that again. I'm here because I can't stop thinking about you... and I know you've been thinking about me too."

"I'm here to have dinner with an old friend," I retort, taking my hand away. "He invited me because he said he would listen to what I have to say. And what I have to say right now is that I'd like to try the house fish."

X tilts his head slightly, getting the waiter's attention again. He says something to the young man, probably our orders, but I don't pay attention; his words occupy my thoughts... He thinks of me... He's here, and it's not an illusion... But how to trust? How to let him back into my life? How to know if what he said is true? What proof should I ask for? Or what do I have to do to make him leave? Damn, it's a pretty simple choice, Dália... Quite simple...

"So... what do you want to talk about?" X asks, looking at me. "You said you have problems... would you like to talk about them?"

"I think I've lost Carlos, and I don't know how to win him back," I blurt out.

"What do you mean?" X asks, adjusting himself in his chair.

"Carlos is in Lisbon right now with a Russian woman named Dunyiana... Dunyaia... Duny, I don't know what. I visited him this weekend and met her... He chose her, X... I asked him to choose between me and her... And he chose her... just like that," I reply, downing another glass of champagne.

"Impossible," X responds. "Carlos wouldn't choose that girl... He wouldn't trade you, Dália, for anyone else. Only if he's a complete idiot... He wouldn't be able to choose anyone else but you... He knows he has a wonderful woman at home. And if he has no idea about that, then he doesn't know what he's missing. It must have been a misunderstanding."

"You weren't there," I respond bitterly. "He let the elevator close... with me inside."

"Dália, men make terrible decisions when they feel pressured in their personal lives. He surely didn't mean it."

"You shouldn't be defending him," I retort, pouring another glass. "Because if he leaves my life, you have a clear path... He's your main and only competitor."

"Dália, I don't want a clear path if you're unhappy. I want you to be happy... And if he's the one who makes you happy, I accept it wholeheartedly. And you know I'm in favor of marriage."

"That's why you're here defending mine instead of fighting for yours?" I ask, acidly. X's face changes completely, and I already regret saying that. "Sorry..."

"It's okay, I pressured you, and you reacted," X says, drinking more champagne. "You know that my marriage is..."

"Complicated," I complete for him. "I bet it's not that complicated."

X smiles with a hint of sadness as he finishes his glass. Then our dishes arrive, and we dine in silence. I sip my Obikwa, just poured by the waiter, admiring X. He hasn't changed much during this time, except for the slightly graying hair that adds a touch of charm. What could be so complicated that he's stuck in it?

"You know what I believe," I say, taking another sip of wine while X looks at me, surprised. "A marriage should last until one of the two stops being happy. And if you're unhappy, X, it means it's time to get out."

"You're unhappy now, aren't you? Following your reasoning, you'll get out, right?" X questions. "So you'll separate from Carlos, right?"

"Well..." I say, drinking another glass, feeling nervous. "My relationship with Carlos has many ups and downs... but I haven't really considered if I should leave him... He's a good father to Juan, we lack nothing at home, and I... I love him."

"It's not that simple, right?" X asks with a satisfied smile, making me understand his point of view. "It's not time to get out; it's time to try again. A marriage is not something you throw away because you're unhappy. Especially after so many years, there's always something that keeps us together, and remembering what made us stay in the first place. Hold onto the idea of what made you fall in love with your husband. That always helps me even when I'm unhappy."

"Then why are you here with me and not with her?" I ask seriously.

"Because my marriage is as complicated as yours," X replies. "That's why we need distractions and joy in our lives. Thinking about you makes me as happy as being in your presence... That doesn't mean we're going to get out of our marriages."

"You're drunk," I say, smiling. "That's why you're saying these things. Don't worry, my friend, you'll regret saying all these things tomorrow."

"No, I'm not. Besides, if anyone should be drunk here, it's you," X claims, smiling.

"You know I have quite a resistance," I retort, drinking another glass. "In fact, I'm quite resistant to many things, like the shell of an ostrich egg."

"But can you resist me?" X asks enigmatically.

"I've managed to do so successfully... until now," I reply awkwardly. I look at my empty plate and his as well. What do we do now?

"I'll ask for the check," X says, calling the waiter who quickly approaches. "Please, the check. And send a black coffee to my room."

"Afraid of a hangover, X?" I tease.

"Not for me, but for you," X says as he signs the bill. "I don't want to be accused of getting a married woman drunk. So let's go upstairs, sober you up, and finish this lovely evening."

"And who said I'll go up to your room?" I ask, smiling. "How can you be so sure I'll go up with you instead of taking a taxi home?"

"Because your shell has already cracked," X answers, lightly touching my chin. He stands up and walks towards me, extending his hand. "Shall we?"