Page 35 of Stronger Than Fate

“Hello my foot! You didn’t call or text me. We had agreed on that, but you don’t even remember me,” he scolded me, and he was right.

“You’re right, I apologize a thousand times. What time is it in Paris?”

“It’s two in the morning. I’m here waiting for you to call, but since you don’t deign to do so, I have to call you or I’ll be up all night,” he continued protesting.

“You’re crazy!”

“I probably am,” he said, giving up.

“I have a lot to tell you,” I said.

“I can imagine. Spill it, Dalina Dukart.”

I began to tell him how I had met Henry and the times I had run into him, including our meeting at his sister’s house. Finally, and with less detail, I told him about our sexual encounter.

“So that’s where we are. Supposedly, for now, we’re getting to know each other, but I’m clear that this relationship is a bit complicated. For starters, he’s a man who, at his age, seems to have never had a stable partner or aspired to one because he doesn’t like explaining his life to anyone, and he has many women at his disposal. That’s already a complex combination, not to say dangerous.”

“How old is he?” he asked, interrupting me.

“He’s 37 years old.”

“He’s quite a few years older than you,” he commented, looking at me seriously.

“I know, but that’s not the point. I’m just getting to know him and, although he proposed that we be faithful, I don’t completely trust him. Maybe I’m being unfair; I suppose time will tell, if we even have time, because I’m not clear about that either. Since he left this morning, we haven’t spoken. I have no idea what he did during the day, nor does he know what I did. I don’t know, Sean, I’m confused.”

“And with good reason... If you were so unsure, why did you give yourself to him? Are you sure you’re not in love?” he asked, somewhat surprised by my story.

“I suppose not,” I answered.

“You suppose? That answer itself is already a problem,” he stated.

“And how can I know? I have no idea how to answer that question.”

My friend looked at me seriously, ran his hand through his hair and said:

“Love is more than a temporary feeling. No one can tell you if you’re in love; you just feel it intensely. When you see that person, happiness floods you and there’s a tingling in your stomach that takes away your appetite. You only hunger for their lips and all of them. You spend all day in the clouds because you only think about that person. You feel irrationally happy, but you have no idea why you feel like laughing. You could spend 24 hours a day listening to everything they say and I don’t know how many other things,” he said, looking at me embarrassed.

“You’re in love!” I exclaimed, looking at him in surprise.

“It seems so, but I see that surprises you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Then you reproach me for not telling you everything, but you also hide things from me, Sean Moret.”

“It’s different,” was his only defense.

“Different? Where’s the difference? Is your love reciprocated?”

“No; it’s not, and I’m not going to talk about that now. Is there anything more depressing than loving someone who we know will never love us back? It’s like a dead end and it wears you down... it wears down your heart and mind, but the most unfortunate thing is that we can’t stop feeling this here,” he said, pointing to his chest, “feeling what everyone calls love. So, dear friend, I don’t want to talk about that topic now. We were talking about you, so let’s continue talking about you.”

“Are you okay?” I asked, because I noticed his bitterness and sadness, and my heart sank.

“Dali, let’s continue with your situation. We’ll talk about me another day, okay?”

I realized he wasn’t ready to talk, and I didn’t want to insist. The last thing I wanted was to make him sad, although he already looked very depressed, and I wished I could be with him to give him a big hug and comfort him.

“Let’s do something. For now, let’s leave the topic of that elusive feeling. In my case, I don’t think I love him, but the truth is I’m afraid it might happen.”

“Why afraid?”