to the
victim”.
He remained still.
Then he let out a short laugh.
—It’s good.
—It’s autobiographical.
-Also.
I sat down opposite him.
—You never asked what I did when you weren’t around.
She carefully closed the notebook.
—I thought getting to know you meant knowing where you were born, what you studied, and how you drank your coffee.
—My waiter knew that.
He nodded.
This time she smiled sadly.
-Yeah.
I went back to performing in a small venue when the nausea started to subside.
Julian asked to go.
I accepted on one condition:
—If you don’t laugh, at least buy two drinks. Financial support has its charm too.
He sat in the back.
When I went up on stage, I saw him holding a glass of water in his hands.
I counted my five minutes.
People laughed.
Me too.
Then he waited for me by the exit.
—You were incredible.
I looked at him.
I didn’t feel the urge to run towards him.
I felt a little calmer.
Me
I was glad that
I would have seen it.
But I no longer needed to see it to believe it.
Our daughter was born on a rainy morning.
Julian was by my side because I had invited him.
When the nurse placed Emma on my chest, he began to cry silently.
“It has your nose,” he whispered.
—Then you keep the orthodontics bills, for poetic justice’s sake.
If I laugh amidst tears.
Then he looked at me.
—Thank you for letting me be here.
I kissed my daughter’s forehead.
—Now it’s your turn to stay.
And he did.
Not perfectly.
There were difficult conversations, schedules to adjust, and boundaries to reiterate.
Margaret met Emma when I felt ready.
The visit was brief.
Julian reminded him of the conditions before he entered.
I didn’t have to argue from a hospital bed.
A year after the divorce, Julian asked me if I wanted to have dinner with him.
Just us.
I looked at Emma, asleep
in his
pram.
Then I looked at him.
—A dinner is not a reconciliation.
-I know.
—And I’m going to choose the restaurant.
-OK.
I thought for a moment.
—And dessert too.
She smiled.
—Especially the dessert.
I accepted.
Not because our daughter needed to see us married.
Not even because he had learned to say the right words.
I accepted because for months his actions had allowed me to feel curious again about the man in front of me.That night, while I was getting ready, I found the divorce certificate in a drawer.
