The Revelations and Surprises of Dália's Day
My throat knots with all the words that want to spill out. I really need to tell someone what's going on. To vent about everything, to share the burden... And who is better than my sister? But the words that want to come out are the ones that involve much more than just the crisis; they involve the one I want to forget. There was only one person I could confide everything to without filtering, and it wasn't the one in front of me. Not that my sister wasn't trustworthy, but I didn't want her to become an accomplice in something I did. Besides, my sister still believes in eternal love stories, where fidelity is the holy grail. In that regard, I envy her; I wish I could be like that again, but I'm not...
I lightly run my tongue over my lower lips before biting them, then I open up about how things have been between us since I joined the NGO, the edited version. I told her about what happened on my trip to Portugal, where I met Duny and everything that went on. This coincided with my sister's dessert: a white chocolate ganache with mango and passion fruit cream, and an Oreo twist.
"Wasn't Carlos allergic to chocolate?" my sister asks, surprised by my account.
"He was, as in 'until the first woman that caught his interest showed up.' And the worst part was that he took her side! He didn't defend me even once!"
"I can't believe he was capable of not getting on the elevator! It was you, the mother of his child, his wife... What a jerk!" my sister comments, outraged.
"And that wasn't even the last straw. He took the Russian woman to the opening," I reveal, shocking my sister even more.
"I can't believe it!" my sister exclaims, wide-eyed. "How did I not see this?"
"You and our parents arrived after the big scene," I reply, taking a sip of my wine. "I thought that was the end."
"Thank goodness you went after him to Portugal," my sister comments, bringing me back to reality.
"Yes... thank goodness," I confirm, finishing my wine. "But we didn't come back well... I seriously thought about divorce. I considered it, and I believe he did too. Today we have a postnuptial agreement and several couples therapy sessions, and I have no idea if it will really be able to save our marriage."
"I see..." my sister says, saddened.
***
I keep thinking that if she got so sad just hearing the edited version, imagine if she found out what I did. I couldn't bear that disappointed look from her.
"In fact, what he's doing today is part of the therapy. We're living like two single people, and Carlos is showing how things could be different," I explain.
"Do you want to know what I think?" my sister asks, with a mischievous expression on her face. She takes Carlos's card and slides it between her fingers while raising her eyebrows.
"What?" I ask, curious.
"We're not spending much with this card. I suppose you need some party outfits, hair, nails, and feet done. A laser hair removal would be perfect," my sister says, smiling. "Also, I believe this sister-in-law here could use a makeover."
"A toast to us," I say, raising my glass toward my sister.
***
The lights at Las Arenas come on, indicating that the day is coming to an end, and the night is welcoming us as my sister and I finish getting our hair done. My hair underwent a complete makeover as it had grown a lot and lost its shape. This time, I got a shoulder-length layered cut with a better-defined fringe. My sister, on the other hand, decided to keep her haircut but added some highlights. We exchanged smiles and then left the salon, heading towards the parking lot.
"Doce..."
Yes, I heard that word, but it was faint. So, I conclude that someone was commenting on someone else about something sweet. I continue walking with my sister.
"Dália."
My sister slows down and turns her head, but I keep looking toward the exit. I recognize that voice, I know who it is, just like my entire body that shivers since the first moment.
"Dália!" my sister calls out, continuing, "I think someone is calling for you. Did you hear it?"
"It was probably just your imagination," I say seriously as I walk through the mall's exit.
***
My sister drives, chatting happily about the day, but I can only think about the last moments. That voice called for "Doce" and then for "Dália." It couldn't be that he had come back. I must be hallucinating.
"Did you really hear someone calling for me?" I ask my sister, who looks at me, not understanding the question.
"Well, now I'm not so sure..." she replies, shrugging. "It was a man. What's wrong?"
"Nothing... I just thought it could be Carlos and ended up ignoring it," I lie, looking out the window.
"It couldn't be him," my sister comments mysteriously.
"Why couldn't it be him?" I ask, curious, as my sister parks the car.
"We're here," she says, helping me with all the shopping bags. Once we reach my floor, I notice she doesn't step out of the elevator.
"I'll stay here. Goodnight, sis," my sister says, pressing the button for the ground floor.
"Thank you for today. It was great spending it with you," I say.
She smiles, and then the elevator doors close. I turn towards my apartment, regretting having done so much shopping. Next time, I'll cut it in half.
I struggle to open my apartment door, enter, and find rose petals scattered on the floor, with the song "At Last" playing softly in the background. I smile and follow the path the petals lead me to my beautifully set dining room with candles, roses, balloons with my name, and a delicious dinner served. I leave the shopping bags on the floor and head to the kitchen to look for Carlos, but he's not there. I return to the dining room and approach the table, observing every detail he prepared for me until I notice a white card with my name on it on top of the plate:
I hope your day has been wonderful.
Enjoy the dinner,
Yours,
Carlos Salazar.
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