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“How can you even think I’d leave you because of your illness?”
Moved, Eric shakes his head again, and for the first time, I see him crying.
“Jude, when my illness gets worse, the quality of my eyesight will be very limited. There’ll come a time when I’ll be a burden to you and ...”
“And?”
“Don’t you understand?”
“No, I don’t understand,” I say, breathlessly. “You’ll still be by my side. You’ll still be able to touch me and kiss me and make love to me, and I’ll do the same to you. Why do you doubt me?”
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he murmurs, “the best thing.”
I want to cry, but instead, I take his hands from his eyes and dry his tears.
“Well, if I really am the best thing that’s ever happened to you, then don’t ever talk about my leaving you, not even in jest, all right? Now tell me you love me and give me one of those kisses I like so much.”
52
The week starts out intense, and I try to process everything he’s told me.
Betta? I’m not interested. I don’t care. I know Eric doesn’t want anything to do with her. I believe him, though I haven’t wanted to explore too deeply what he told me about his father. Now I understand why he doesn’t talk about him and why he omits him from everything.
As far as his nephew goes, I understand, though the situation concerns me. If something were to happen to my sister and brother-in-law, I have no doubt Luz would come live with me. I’d take care of her and would not let her suffer for all the tea in China.
Living in Germany is not something I’ve ever considered. But for Eric, I’d do it. I’d rather live with him than be bitter without him.
These days, Eric spends more time in Germany. His nephew needs him. When he’s in Madrid and the alarm goes off at seven thirty, Eric is already up. He comes to me, kisses me tenderly, and I love it. We can’t go to the office together. People will gossip, and I don’t want that. Finally, Eric calls Tomás, who picks him up at my place. I get my car and drive to work.
In the ninth-floor cafeteria, I’m having coffee with Miguel when I see Eric come in with my supervisor and two other supervisors. A furtive glance lets me know he’s uncomfortable seeing me with Miguel. But I don’t get up. Miguel is my friend, and Eric has to accept that.
When we get back to our offices, I sense he’s watching me from his. Every time our eyes meet, I feel my body heat up, and it heats up even more when I feel his eyes looking me over.
I know what he’s thinking.
I know what he wants.
But we both have to keep our composure until evening, when there will be time to enjoy our intimacy.
At noon today, Eric leaves his office. His face is inscrutable. What’s going on? I carefully follow him with my eyes and see him head directly toward a young blonde by the elevators. They exchange a pair of kisses on the cheeks, and then she touches his face. Could that be Betta?
They talk for a few minutes, and then they leave together. An hour later, Eric returns, wearing the same expression. I need him to call me into his office. I wait fifteen minutes, and when there’s no call, I take the initiative. When I go in, he’s on the phone. He sees me and tries to hang up.
“I can’t right now, Mamá. I’ll call you later.” As soon as he finishes, he looks up at me. “Can I help you with something, Miss Flores?”
“Neither Miguel nor my supervisor is around,” I tell him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Why would there be something wrong?”
“Eric ... I saw you leave with a young blonde and ...”
“So what?”
There’s anger in his voice.
I don’t like his tone, so without another word, I turn around and leave. Before I get to my desk, the office phone rings, and he asks me to come back. This time, I close the door behind me.
“Jude ... what did you really come to ask me?”