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  “I didn’t want to say that, but...” I said, laughing.

  I looked at him with my eyes half closed, snorting, and making a little grimace. But his expression changed. He wasn’t laughing any more. His gaze was fixed on me, as if he felt tenderness.

  “You haven’t changed a bit,” he said before I could say anything. His voice sounded serious and his eyes stayed fixed on mine. I felt he was analyzing me closely. For a few seconds I forgot everything, it felt like that fateful accident and his leaving had never happened, until that comment brought me back to reality, making me remember old forgotten emotions.

  “You haven’t, either,” I concluded fondly.

  Chapter 5

  An Unexpected Experience

  The next morning I woke up elated. It had been a long time since I’d slept so well. Excitement ran through my body from head to toe. I’d spend another day biding my time at my job, but when I got out, it would be different. Ian would be waiting for me. Was it possible that I was getting some of my life back?

  We had so much to talk about, so many things to catch up on, that just one afternoon together wouldn’t be long enough. But I was unconcerned. If he really intended to stay indefinitely, we’d have all the time in the world to catch up.

  That morning passed very slowly. I wanted to leave work. I was constantly looking at my cell to check the time and at the same time, to confirm there hadn’t been a message saying he couldn’t come. But there were no signs of life during those long hours. Just before two thirty in the afternoon, I went to the restroom for a moment to touch up my eyeliner and mascara, brush my teeth, and then I went back my desk to pick things up. I took one more look at my phone and saw a message “I’m downstairs.” My heart exploded. It was beating with happiness and I couldn’t wipe the smile from my lips.

  At two thirty-one, I was out of the office. I went down the stairs that separated me from the lower level, trying to contain my emotions, to act like it was just another day. But it wasn’t easy. When I went out the front door to the street, there, in the distance, on the opposite sidewalk, I saw him leaning against a large tree. It was protecting him from the impressive sun.

  This time I had no doubt it was him. Yes, it was the same happy and attractive man whom I used to see every day in my house and who looked like he was going to be returning to my life. I headed in his direction with a firm, confident step.

  He didn’t do anything. He just waited.

  I walked on, trying in vain to contain the smile that once again crossed my face when I saw him there. However, in spite of feeling happy, little by little I started noticing something strange and disconcerting.

  In my head, I tried to blur the length of his absence, making me doubt whether the time we’d been separated had really been five long, hard years, or if it had only been a few days. I tried to make my brain pretend to erase that last span of my life, trying to shape at my whim my perception of space and time. My confusion reached such a degree that I wondered if the event from yesterday was due to an extravagant episode of deranged imagination. Would I get home and see my mother and my brother, too?

  When I got closer, he got up and started towards me. Even though my eyes clearly saw Ian, an image flashed through my retinas. Like a hallucination, like a mirage bringing a dreamlike figure to reality.

  It was only tenths of a second, but it was enough to recognize that the silhouette that appeared in front of Ian’s body was very familiar. Why would I suddenly see someone instead of Ian?

  However, I was well aware that it wasn’t the first time I’d seen him. But where? Was it déjà vu? Had I dreamed about him that night and now I was remembering that, mixing it up with reality?

  No, there was no doubt that the silhouette was that of a man, and it was not who I’d seen a moment ago. It was unusual, but I was not delirious. My friend’s short brown hair had turned blond and shoulder-length. His height was different, too. He seemed to be substantially taller.

  The image went as fast as it came, and then disappeared completely. Now I could see only Ian’s face, coming towards me and showing one of his beautiful smiles.

  “Are you okay?” he asked when he got close.

  I hadn’t realized that the optic illusion had erased the smile from my face. My face now looked serious, frowning in my effort to remember where I could have seen it before.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” I answered quickly, coming out of my deep thoughts.

  It was easy to forget about that strange mental lapse. In less than a second, my eyes, thoughts, and all of my attention went back to centering on him. He leaned down to give me a pair of kisses. Two soft caresses with his lips that told me much more. His soft, fresh skin felt freshly shaven. His hair looked damp, emitting a pleasant and captivatingly sweet aroma. He seemed to have just got out of the shower. In his closeness, I tried to find the old fragrance, but it wasn’t there. Did he stop using it? Deep down, I was glad, because I knew that scent would bring back old memories.

  W reached the restaurant after a few minutes. We went to the furthest and most private table we saw. The conversation started with joking about memories from our childhood. We talked about everything but the accident. He told me he didn’t have children and wasn’t married. He didn’t even have a girlfriend. I must confess that this was reassuring, since it was impossible for me not to continue feeling a great attraction for him.

  We’d almost finished eating when the waiter came over with a dessert menu. After looking at it for a minute, I asked for mint tea and Ian ordered iced coffee. Once the waiter had written down our order and left, I looked more closely at my old friend. Even though he had the same sense of humor, he thought the same way, and had the same way of expressing himself, it seemed like there was something different about him. At least it felt like it to me. I wondered for a minute if it was just my perception, but no. After spending some time with him, I could see that, behind the façade, hid a sensitive and troubled man trying to hide the pain trapped in his memory.

  “Ian, don’t try to protect me,” I said, looking into his eyes.

  “What?” My comment caught him off guard. “I don’t understand,” he added as he studied my face.

  “I mean...I think you’re trying to hide your sadness behind the old façade that we’re both used to.”

  At that moment, the waiter returned with our drinks. While he left them on the table, I realized that my regular practice of meditation was awakening a special sensitivity, so that on some occasions, I could anticipate events in time or even recognize the emotions that other people might be feeling.

  “I’m not trying to protect you,” he answered after a few seconds when the waiter had gone.

  “Okay. I’m sorry, then,” I answered, looking away from his eyes.

  I picked up a spoon and dipped it in the mint tea to stir it and let it cool. It seemed as if silence had flooded the whole restaurant. I couldn’t even hear the forks on plates, or the glasses, or the hum of people talking. Nothing, I heard nothing. My attention had been transported someplace else, a far-off scene. Memories suddenly surfaced, making me feel that strange cold again, the feeling of lying motionless, the impossibility of being able to do anything but wait. I heard my father asking if I was okay. I felt all over again my weak body not being able to do what I told it to. And I heard the sirens again, the ones that echoed far away and culminated in a shattering roar. Suddenly, the reproduction of a voice broke through in my head. It sounded loud, it sounded real. That young, familiar tone that I didn’t recognize in the midst of my unconsciousness—now I knew who it belonged to.

  “It was you!” I said in a broken tone, looking up from the cup and returning to reality.

  He looked at me, first in my eyes, and then he lowered them to focus on the cup, and then returned to reality. He knew what I was talking about.

  “Yes,” he finally said, after a few moments of silence.

  “But how is that possible?” I asked, bewildered.

  “It�
�s sort of a long story to tell.”

  I stayed quiet, waiting for him to open up.

  “I had been working in ambulance service for two months. That night my partner didn’t feel well and asked me to cover his shift. At two in the morning there was a radio call about an accident outside of Madrid. We went out but didn’t know the extent of the accident. At first, we only knew there were two cars involved. When we got there, I saw a vehicle like Eric’s and didn’t give it a second thought. There are so many cars like that, you don’t stop to think you might know the people inside, much less that you’ll be taking care of them. Until I got close and I saw him...” Ian paused. He raised his hands to cover his eyes, and put his elbows on the table, trying to take deep breaths. It was clear that remembering all that continued to affect him deeply, perhaps because he’d tried to hide it for years. It was very likely that the time had also come for him to heal that wound.

  For my part, I couldn’t say a single word. I was stunned by his story. I had no idea that he was present at that fateful scene. It was as if he were narrating a scene from a movie in which I’d been an actor and his words were bringing back memories, that fortunately weren’t that painful any more. On the other hand, going through that experience allowed me to completely empathize with the feelings that still pressed on his heart. I couldn’t help but get emotional seeing his pain and sadness. That memory did not tear me up any more, or make me feel disconsolate or confused. I understood that by accepting his departure from my heart and understanding that it was his time, I freed myself from a great burden of anguish. Now, talking to Ian about the accident helped me confirm that I really had overcome it. However, that did not keep me from being shocked by his story, his grief and suffering.

  By keeping such a desolate experience silent for so long, he had become a slave to the deep, complicated torment that lodged in his heart that night, prisoner to a pain more intense and maybe even more visceral than what I was feeling at that moment. He must have felt so powerless, not being able to do anything to save his best friend.

  I didn’t know what to do. My gaze clouded over as a testament to the words that I couldn’t get out of my throat. After a few seconds, Ian put his hands down, revealing his anguished face, highlighting his beautiful pupils bathed in emotion.

  “Seeing that,” he continued, “all I could do was go to the car to see if you were all alive. Your brother, inert. In the state he was in, I didn’t need to check his pulse to know...” he murmured.

  “Then I saw that you and your parents were in the car, and I went right to you. I tried to keep my composure, and prayed that you would be alive. But you were so still that for a few seconds, terror took over.

  “I got to your side and you had a deep contusion in your head. Blood ran into your hair, your face. I was so afraid that you’d left me, too.

  “Thank God I found a pulse. It was weak but regular and that calmed me down. Even though you might have serious injuries, I knew you had a chance to make it.

  “Your father was conscious, so I left him for last. I found your mother and she was not moving, either. I approached to see what her condition was, but I didn’t find any pulse.

  “It looked like both your brother and mother died instantly. It would have been impossible to save them.” A deep lament escaped his chest.

  “The other emergency vehicles arrived right away. It only took a few minutes to take you both by ambulance to the closest hospital. On the way, a thousand questions went through my head. How could this have happened? It had only been a few hours since I’d been in your house with Eric, thinking about what we’d do after the game on Sunday...

  “But the nightmare was real.

  “At the clinic, I couldn’t leave your side. I couldn’t imagine that you might disappear from my life, too. They started running tests on you and said you had a traumatic brain injury. You needed urgent surgery, but the worst part was that they didn’t know if you’d even survive the surgery, or if you’d have after-effects for the rest of your life. Even knowing that you’re a strong woman, you always have been, I kept asking myself ‘And if she doesn’t make it?’

  “God! Those were the worst hours of my life. I didn’t know what to do, what to think, where to go. I cried like a baby, inconsolable. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, I wanted to be alone. I wanted to wake up from that nightmare.

  “When the surgeon came out, they said everything had gone better than expected. They were hopeful that you’d be able to go back to a normal life in a short amount of time. That’s when I thought it would be best if I disappeared for awhile. Go to some faraway place where my emotions could cool off. I convinced myself that if I stayed away, your recovery would be faster. In the end, Eric was gone...I didn’t know if you and I would stay friends if he wasn’t there any more.”

  I listened closely to his words. He had truly suffered badly through all of that. His feelings came racing at me like wild horses. I understood him so well...on the other hand, what he didn’t know was that I wasn’t just crying over the loss of my family, but losing him, too. All the anguish because of him leaving, the anger that until then caused me to think he’d left me deliberately, faded when I understood why he’d made that decision—a decision based on the affliction that came over him. I couldn’t reproach him in any way. And, though for a long time I couldn’t see it that way, I saw the light: he thought that this idea would be the best for everyone.

  His confession redeemed the subtle embers still needing healing inside, and at the same time, freed much repressed pain. In that moment, and despite the fact that he was still inconsolable, I felt at peace after so many years.

  “I’m sorry, Ian,” I was finally able to say. “That must have been so hard. During this whole time I couldn’t figure out why you left. But now I do and I understand perfectly, and that’s why I think you deserve an apology. I’ve been very tough on you even if you didn’t know it. When you disappeared, I suffered deeply, but now I know the real reason you left. Yes, I was unfair, I shouldn’t have judged your actions.”

  “I’m sorry, too. I’ve been away from you far longer than I’d have liked to be. Besides that, it didn’t help me forget. You stayed in my head every day. I’d ask myself how you were, if you’d got through all the pain, if you’d recovered physically. The first months I called my mother every week, almost every day, trying to find out about you. But she couldn’t tell me anything. It was hard for her, too, trying to get over the death of one of her best friends, so she tried her best to not see you. She was afraid to find you worse, or impacted by the bad state you might be in, or that you’d had a relapse. So she didn’t have any information, and I had less.”

  “It’s true, our mothers got along so well.” The memory made me smile. “Nothing’s going on, truly. Let’s leave the past behind and concentrate on the present. Enough suffering from that event...I think it’s time to enjoy life and heal our wounds.”

  “Yes. Now that I’m here with you, I think it will be easier to finally get over all that, even more so knowing you aren’t holding a grudge for the unfortunate decision I made to leave.”

  “I forgive you this time, but don’t do it again,” I joked, trying to get out of that conversation that was getting so intimate and yet so uncomfortable. “With you back, I’m happy.”

  Just then, and as if coming to my rescue, the waiter came over with the check. It was late, and we were the only two left, at the corner table. I started to get my purse but Ian stopped me.

  “It’s on me.”

  “It isn’t necessary,” I said gently.

  “I know, but I feel like it. You can pay next time, if you want.”

  “Do you mean if I want there to be a next time, or if there is a next time, I can pay if I want?” I joked around, trying to find out if he really wanted us to see each other again.

  “I hope you want us to see each other again. I had a very good time and I’d like to repeat it often.”

  A happy and shy look came ove
r my face. I felt so blessed because everything pointed to my getting back that person who had once been so special in my life, and now, without a doubt, I knew he still was.

  After the waiter brought back the change, and they had subtly indicated they wanted us to leave the restaurant, I wanted to continue enjoying his company, so it occurred to me as we were about to get up to invite him to visit my flat. Without thinking twice, he answered with a quick “Okay.”

  While we walked, I remembered when we were young. He used to like to pull my hair and jokingly tell me I’d always live with my parents. Now I wanted to take the opportunity to show him he’d been wrong and even without a partner, I’d been able to ‘leave the cradle’ as he always called it. I still didn’t have much furniture, but that didn’t matter. I was proud of my house and my independence and the freedom it offered me, the feeling of not having to explain to anyone what I was doing, when I came or went, of staying in pajamas all day if I felt like it, or in underwear. Eat in my room, in the dining room, or on the floor, to go bed when I felt like it, sing out of tune, with the blinds closed so the neighbors wouldn’t hear me. There were so many reasons I liked living alone...

  After a few minutes of giving him directions, we arrived at my house. I’d felt very calm during the drive, too involved in showing him the way there, but now that we were at my building, my heart leapt and started to beat faster.

  “What if he thinks I want something more?” I thought in my speeded-up internal dialogue. I didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. Even though I was very attracted to him, I wasn’t ready to start an emotional relationship, or sleep with anyone, especially not him.

  “Might he have thought I want sex and that’s why I invited him to my house?”

  My facial expression must have changed a lot because as soon as we parked, he noticed my tension.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, looking at me.

  “Yes, I think so,” I tried to relax and subtly avoid his gaze. I grabbed my bag and got out of the car, almost fleeing from his side.