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  It was time to go talk to Ian. I knew he was at his apartment, and I decided to show up there without notice.

  In less than ten minutes, I was parking on his street. His house faced the street and illogically, for a moment I prayed that he wouldn’t see me getting out of my vehicle through any of his windows. Instantly I realized that this thought bordered on the absurd; the odds of him leaning out onto the terrace or from his windows were ridiculous. I immediately dismissed my fears and continued on my path.

  I went through the door of the lobby that conveniently was already open, and up the stairs. I thanked the Universe for that small favor.

  I found it curious to discover the strong desire I had to see him, and at the same time, feeling how fear was trying to take over my sense of reason. Anyone would think I wanted to prevent him from finding out that I was going to his house, climbing the few steps that separated me from him. In short—nonsense.

  When I reached his door, I stopped in my tracks. I inhaled vigorously through my nose and noticed how my stomach was jumping, causing my heartbeat to speed up.

  At home, I knew how to sneak away from almost any compromising situation, but once I went through that door, I’d have no escape. There was no doubt about it, I was afraid of being alone with him. Since our exciting kiss last Friday, we hadn’t been alone together since. Well, yes, when we were in my kitchen for a few moments on Saturday.

  For a second, I was about to turn around and run back the way I’d come, but I needed to talk to him. I wanted to know that he was well and not hiding anything important and, if the opportunity arose, propose a hypothetical trip to the Gobi Desert.

  I heard a noise on the other side of the door. The surprise made me take a step back, and my heart raced even more. Then the thick sheet of wood and metal opened.

  “Aurora! What are you doing here?” my father asked.

  “What are you doing here?” I shot back, not believing my eyes.

  “Aurora!” exclaimed Ian, leaning out from behind Joaquín. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

  “Yeah, it was an impromptu decision,” I answered sarcastically. “But, what are you doing here?” I asked my father again. No doubt that had infuriated me.

  “Since you told me that this guy was being vague and I hadn’t heard from you in awhile either, I decided to come see him.”

  “And since when do you know where he lives?”

  “Since the other day when we were by ourselves after coming back from the conference.”

  It all seemed very strange to me. Ian followed behind my father, quietly, watching closely. I felt more and more suspicious.

  “I don’t know why I get the feeling that you’re trying to hide something from me,” I said flatly.

  “I don’t understand you’d say that, daughter—what would we be hiding from you?”

  Despite his words, his voice didn’t inspire confidence, and far from reassuring me, my conjecture that they were hiding something was growing, and with it, my irritation.

  “Why don’t we all go in?” Ian suggested.

  But I didn’t feel like staying there or talking to either one of them. My anger was growing by the minute and I didn’t want to stay with them with an irritated attitude, and less, be unpleasant company. I decided to make something up in order to get away.

  “No, don’t worry. I just came to see if you needed anything from the supermarket,” I lied convincingly. “You need anything?” I said with a charming smile.

  I knew that upset both of them, but I didn’t care, I didn’t want to go into his apartment pretending that everything was okay. I wasn’t up to it.

  “The truth is I have to go out for a few things,” he answered, confused.

  “That’s why I asked you, if you want, I’ll bring you something and save you the trip,” I kept on acting.

  “If it’s okay, since your father was just leaving, I’ll go with you.”

  That counter offer caught me off guard and I didn’t know how to react. I had no coherent reason to reject his company.

  “If you want...” I finally had to say after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

  “Well, I’ll leave you two, then,” said my father, making a move to leave.

  “Okay, Joaquín, thanks for the visit,” said Ian.

  My father leaned over to kiss me on the cheek. He knew I was irritated and didn’t say any more.

  “Don’t spend too much money!” he called as he went down the stairs.

  Ian and I stood on the landing, watching him descend the steps with the grace of a small child, almost hopping.

  “Come in for a minute? I’d like to change before we go.”

  I looked him up and down. He looked as attractive as ever and his clothing didn’t look inappropriate for shopping, whatever we were going to buy.

  “Okay,” I agreed with a heavy sigh.

  He turned around and went into a bedroom while I entered the house and closed the door behind me.

  That was the first time I’d been in his house and I felt a certain curiosity about it. I put down my bag and jacket and left them hanging on the first doorknob I saw. It was a big place, spacious, and the light tone of the walls helped me notice the great clarity that filtered through the windows. The sofa set was a dark chocolate color and the furniture contrasted nicely thanks to its soft beige tint. The place felt full of style and elegance. I wondered if his mother had anything to do with that cozy finish.

  There was no hint of any boxes anywhere. It seemed like he’d been there all his life. While he was in the bedroom, I ventured on a little deeper into the rest of the rooms. The first thing I found was the kitchen, quite large and equally bright. The furniture was an intense red tone and the countertop was white with bright highlights. No doubt it was a Silestone quartz countertop—I’d been wanting one of those for a long time. Then I went to another bedroom and ended up in a light-filled room. There was just a desk and an office chair. When I turned to go to the next space, I saw a splendid world map that took up the entire wall. That made me fall in love. I approached to look closely at what this strange map of the world was made of. It was a kind of porous cloth mounted on cork. At the risk of damaging the cloth, I thought it would be pretty fun to mark each site visited with a thumbtack.

  “Soon, he’ll have a tack showing that we’ve been in the Gobi Desert,” I thought, pleased.

  “What are you smiling at?”

  I hadn’t noticed that Ian was standing in the hallway, watching me.

  I gave a little start of surprise.

  “Nothing, nonsense,” I said, trying to lower my heart rate.

  He smiled sideways, narrowing his eyes, as if daring me to tell him a secret, as if he could hypnotize me with his look.

  “What are you hiding?” he said in a seductive and singsong tone.

  “What are you hiding?” I replied mockingly, breaking away from the magnetism of his pupils and his captivating smile.

  In that moment, I realized it was urgent to get out of there fast if I didn’t want to end up doing something crazy. Something that deep down I’d been wanting for a long time, but that I didn’t dare do. But the problem was it was too late. I felt like an insect numbed by a spider’s venom, trapped in its web, lethargic and at the mercy of the hostess’s capricious appetite. His gaze caused that effect; it took you prisoner without leaving any respite for even the most cowardly of escapes.

  Ian approached, keeping his “I’m here” face, and I remained quiet, defiant. I wasn’t willing to let him disarm me with his captivating sensuality.

  “I think we should go shopping,” I argued, being a killjoy.

  “Yes, maybe, but first I would like to kiss you,” he said bringing his face slowly in towards mine.

  I understood that the prudence in his approach was an attempt to find out my conformity to his ‘proposition.’

  I didn’t move, waiting. And finally, his warm lips conquered mine. Without realizing it, I closed my eyes, filled wi
th satisfaction and desire. He gently brought his body closer to mine, until our waists were completely joined. His fingers slid through the hair of my neck, disarming any last resistance I could have. He kissed me slowly, gently, enjoying every breath, infecting me with his disinhibition. It was unusual for someone to kiss me the way I liked, but he seemed to...it felt like he could decipher the diagram of my desires and joys.

  He slid his hand from my waist to my lower back. He held me firmly and drew me closer to him. Meanwhile, his tongue didn’t allow any peace to my heart that was beating with pure excitement. The desire was mutual. We had spent so much time postponing that moment, that we were both immersed in the wonderful chaos of abandon. The minutes passed, slow, fleeting. And we both got lost in a parallel universe, where time and space had no meaning for us. The only world that could beat in me was him, leaving me to be the starry cloak that would engulf and rock him with love.

  *･｡.·.｡･*

  The incessant grumbling of my abdomen woke us up.

  I got up awkwardly, feeling a slight dizziness that made me feel wobbly for a moment. I supposed that the lack of food and the physical exhaustion had got together to create that pale lapse in my field of vision.

  I stood for a few seconds, breathing deeply. My body quickly felt back to normal, and I felt completely recovered. I put Ian’s shirt on.

  “Where are you going?” he asked with a beautiful smile on his lips.

  “I’m going to see what time it is. It must be fairly late.”

  And, in fact, between the time it took to make up for lost time, and the sleepiness that overcame us after that, it was almost seven.

  “Guess,” I said, returning to the bedroom with my cell phone in my hand.

  “Five?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Almost seven.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, I think we should...”

  I couldn’t say more. I felt the blood rush from my face, leaving it white, clouding my pupils and senses again. I was close to fainting. Ian jumped from the bed when he saw me look so shaken.

  “What’s the matter?” he said, uselessly, already at my side. Seeing that I didn’t answer, he leaned over the phone screen to find out what had got my attention and almost made me faint.

  I wasn’t able to keep a tear from falling which ended up dying in the inevitable impact with the floor.

  Chapter 22

  Invisible hope

  What had happened couldn’t be true.

  Did happiness last such a brief time?

  No...I could not accept it. I wasn’t ready to be alone. We had many things to do together...the three of us.

  The car was flying down the highway. Ian drove as fast as the vehicle allowed. We had to hurry, apparently we only had a few minutes. I was tormented by the idea that we’d arrive too late and...

  “No, please, you can’t die, not you, too,” I cried silently, my eyes fixed on the message from my aunt.

  “We think your father has had a heart attack. We’re at the Ramón y Cajal Hospital and they’re getting ready to operate on him. Come immediately as soon as you see this. We’ll wait for you in the Emergency Room.”

  I tried to stay calm, but it was almost impossible. My heart raced, not from love this time, but from fear—a few that invaded me and took over my senses, leading me fear the worst. I wanted to wake up from this nightmare. “Damn it!” I shrieked in an inner scream, the only corner of my being where there was some strength to howl with rage and sadness.

  Ian looked over at me from time to time to gauge my state of mind. His face was also distressed.

  “We have to trust that it will be okay,” he urged, trying to cheer me up.

  And though I appreciated it, they sounded like the typical words that are said with love, but they don’t satisfy anyone in the situation.

  “You know the scope of the matter. You’ve seen other cases of serious heart attacks,” I answered bluntly. “I don’t want false hopes, and at the same time, I don’t want to—I can’t—accept that he’s dying,” I said angrily, as tears clouded my eyes.

  “I’m sure there’s something we can do,” he said thoughtfully, clinging to the most invisible hope.

  “Yes, but what? What can we do?”

  Out of nowhere, the image of my ex-boss appeared in my head.

  “Victor!”

  “What?”

  “Victor,” I repeated, as if Ian could read the evidence lodged in my thoughts. Confused, he kept quiet. “He was in a conference last week for self-healing through inner balance or something like that,” I felt so confused that I didn’t really know what subjects they’d covered in that blissful event.

  “I don’t understand where you’re going with this.”

  “Hold on, I’m going to call him.”

  I looked for his number in my contacts list. It was easy to find since I’d just been talking to him a few hours ago.

  “Aurora, good to hear from you! Have you decided to go to the Gobi Desert?” he responded quickly and happily.

  His question startled me, I’d almost forgotten about that trip to Mongolia. In any event, my circumstances had changed. Things being as they were, I couldn’t think about going anywhere.

  “No, Victor,” I said urgently. “I need your help.”

  “What’s happened?” he demanded, worried to hear my voice so affected.

  “My father has had a heart attack. It’s very serious. They have to operate on him, in fact they might already be intervening. I’m going with Ian now to the hospital. We just found out a few minutes ago. I need your help.” My sentences were short, direct, maybe a little disorganized, but I needed answers urgently.

  “How can I help?”

  This weekend you were at that gathering...did the Lama teach you...I don’t know, any exercises or something for cases like this?”

  “To tell the truth, yes. They instructed us, among other things, on how to make an energy wheel.”

  “What’s that?” I asked hopefully.

  “It’s a kind of meditation work. The more people who join and contribute their vibration, good wishes, and positive energy oriented to a living being or a problem, the better the results obtained.”

  “Meditate?”

  “Yes. That said, it sounds very simple and illusory, but there are those who have come out of difficult situations thanks to the energy support that others have given them.”

  I exhaled a strangled sigh. Could it be true that the energy created by a group of people pouring out their good intentions could help heal someone or appease some conflict?

  Yes, the answer that was born in my interior was a sharp ‘yes.’ I had experienced it myself, even if on a much smaller scale, of course. However, I felt that this could be good momentum to improve the extreme situation in which my father was.

  “Let me talk to the group I was with this weekend,” he continued, “and together we’ll do a meditation and irradiation of energy for him.”

  “You need anything?” I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “I’ll give your father’s name to my new colleagues, and if you could send a photo of him to help visualize better, that would be perfect. It would reinforce even more the intention of the work.”

  “Okay, I’m sending it right now in a text.”

  “Don’t worry, Aurora. It will be fine. I know it.”

  “Thank you very much, Victor. I hope so.”

  I finished talking with Victor at the same time Ian and I arrived at the hospital. We parked in the first space we found and made our way quickly towards the Emergency Room, on the other side of the main door.

  We saw my aunt in the distance, sitting in one of the chairs in the row of benches. She rested her body on her knees and in her hands was a handkerchief that covered her mouth. She seemed to sense me—the minute I took a step in her direction, she looked up at me.

  “What’s happened?” I asked absurdly as I reached her.

  “He’s still in surger
y.” She came up to me with the intention of hugging me. I bent down to throw myself into her arms. At the time, it was all we could offer each other of those present, the shelter and love of a loved one.

  “I called you several times,” explained my Aunt Jimena, “but you didn’t pick up.”

  “Yes, I usually have it on silent. I get a lot of texts and the constant beep of the messages is annoying,” I explained, omitting of course that I had been immersed in a dance of passion and wildness with Ian for hours. The memory made me feel better for a few seconds.

  “No worries, in any event there isn’t much you could have done,” she answered resignedly.

  That reminded me of the conversation I’d just had with Victor. Seating myself next to my aunt, I took a moment to look for a recent photo of my father and send it to him. Ian followed me, sitting to my right and staying quiet, looking around: a room of considerable size crowded with people waiting, some resting badly on the rigid chairs, others walking around, some talking in small groups.

  At that moment, I realized that in general, we only notice the existence of illness and death when we see the suffering of someone we know, a loved one, ourselves...or when we have to arm ourselves with patience and hope in an exasperating hospital room. It doesn’t matter if we see it on the news, in the newspapers—fight against cancer, studies about Parkinson’s, Alzheimer’s, medicines—it doesn’t matter. It only affects us when it has its fangs into us and has begun to suck our blood.

  I was sorry for the little attention we paid to the prevention of diseases, that is, to promote true health. Any pill, any research about something, seemed like just a patch, a late cure trying to abate the storm already formed inside of us. “That isn’t prevention, it’s camouflage,” I said to myself. “It’s playing at looking for a miracle cure outside of ourselves, to convince ourselves that we have no other solution, resigning ourselves to the belief that we will fall irremediably ill because our nature dictates it.”