23 And now, life goes on
23
And now, life goes on
Isabella
“Darling, shall we sit over there?”
My father points to an empty table in the corner of a dining room at the Victoria and Albert Museum.
“Sure, that’s fine.”
We approach the round table in a room whose decoration looks like a work of art. Paintings of the months of the year and the signs of the zodiac line the walls with arches and gilded details in contrast to the marble columns. And we’re only here for a coffee break.
“I’ll get us something. What do you want, princess?” my father asks me.
“A hot chocolate and a pear cake.”
“OK.”
I watch my father walk away and sigh. When he’s away, I can stop pretending to smile and make pretty faces. Not that I’m not glad he’s here. I am. My father is in good spirits – we’ve been out and about a lot in the last few days since he arrived in town. We’ve been to Windsor, the Tower of London, and Parliament. We passed through Camden Town and Abbey Road, where a woman took our photo crossing The Beatles’ pedestrian crossing.
However… I’m still broken inside.
In the place where a heart used to live, I feel only emptiness. It hurts, and every time I think of Benjamin and how much I miss him, I feel like crying.
Like now. One second with him in mind, and my throat is closed, my eyes moist.
I see my father approaching holding the tray and I shake my head, trying to stifle my emotions.
“There. There was no queue.”
I smile, accepting the mug and plate of cake.
“This place is refined, huh? I had no idea,” my father comments.
“Yes, it’s one of the best museums in the city.”
“I really like it.”
I nod, taking a sip of the chocolate, although it’s hard to swallow. I try to eat a piece of cake, and my stomach is upset. My father, who is very perceptive, frowns as he looks at me.
“What is it, Bella?”
I try to chew some more. “Nothing.”
“Darling, I know something is happening.” My father reaches for my hand. “You’re sad; I know you. Is this about Matheus?”
I blink, not understanding. “What?”
“I heard he got married. I spoke to your mum before I came here, and she told me.”
Wow, my hometown’s gossip grapevine is efficient.
“It’s not about him,” I say. “He’s in the past, Dad. I’m over it.”
“So, what happened?”
I can see that my father isn’t going to let it go. I put the plate away and straighten my posture, trying not to collapse.
“It’s another man. A…” – wonderful man who I love and who left me forever – “guy I was with, and it didn’t work out.”
My father scratches his grey hair, nodding slowly.
“But from the looks of it, it’s making you suffer.”
I wipe away a stubborn tear that escapes and runs down my cheek.
“Isabella, you can’t let the end of a relationship affect you like that. The first time, I understood. You had hopes for the guy and he didn’t reciprocate. But that can’t always happen. No broken relationship can be responsible for extinguishing your light.”
It’s very difficult to agree, but I try. From a normal point of view, considering what he knows, my father isn’t wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone on this adventure after my relationship in Brazil ended. But you know what, at this point, I don’t care. I do care that I’ve finally found someone who really loves me, who wants to be with me and can’t. That matters to me. That’s what’s killing me.
“I know, Dad. It’s just… difficult. I liked him a lot; he did me a lot of good.”
My father takes a deep breath, takes a sip of his coffee, and eats a piece of cake. “Can’t you work it out?”
“No. Unfortunately not.”
“Right, then, a New Year’s resolution: to move on.”
I meet his caring, loving eyes. I can’t help but smile a little. “Practical like that?”
“Yes, practical. You can even allow yourself to cry, get a little drunk, do whatever helps you. But then, life goes on.”
That phrase should probably be my mantra.
I have to admit that there will be no other solution. Although it hurts, although I miss Benjamin every day, yes, it’s true that life will go on.
He’s moved on. Benjamin isn’t even… no, I refuse to think about it. It’s too painful.
“Bella?” my father calls me. “Did you understand what I said?”
“ Sim, senhor ,” I confirm. “Thank you, Dad. I’m really glad you’re here.”
He smiles warmly and pulls me into a tight hug. Despite everything, I’m not alone. There’s one reason I couldn’t go with Benjamin: I have a life here. Family, friends, people who love me and are here for me.
My father is right. I’ll get over it. I have to get over it; there’s no other choice.
* * *
One month later
Sitting at my desk, I stare at the refined white piece of cloth in front of me. A tie from Regency times.
Benjamin’s tie, which he ended up forgetting.
“Time is ticking, isn’t it? It’s almost the end of January,” Cinthia comments, lying on the sofa.
I sigh. “Yeah…”
But not quickly enough. A month after Benjamin left, and it still seems like yesterday that we said goodbye. I’ve stopped crying every day, at least. Thinking about him, however, is still part of my sad routine.
“What are you doing later? I was thinking of going to the pub.”
I still don’t feel excited enough to go out. In recent weeks, I went with her to the cinema and to an Indian restaurant nearby, but today, I really have other plans.
“I’ll pass, darling.”
“You can’t stop your life, Bella.”
Cinthia has been by my side in my worst moments. They’ve improved over the last month, but they still happen.
“I know, it’s just that I really have to write.”
She stands up and turns to me, excited.
“Tell me the story.”
I swivelled around to face her.
“It’s a time travel book. A sweet romance. The guy, a duke, comes to the future but has to go back to look after his sister. He meets the girl and there’s the dilemma.”
“I love it! It’s going to be great. But there’s a happy ending, right? For God’s sake, don’t separate the two of them.”
I try to smile. “Of course, I’m not an evil author. It has a happy ending; I just don’t know how yet.”
She stands up, leaving her phone on the coffee table. “Good then. If you’re going to write, I won’t insist. I’ll see if I can find some company for tonight. I’m going to the loo.”
My friend leaves the room and goes into the bathroom, closing the door.
I stare at the tie again, running my fingers lightly over the fabric. I pick it up and bring it to my nose. I can still smell his perfume. The left side of my chest starts to ache again, but I stay there for a few seconds with my eyes closed.
Finally, when I put the fabric aside, I look at our selfie in the picture frame on the table, Ben’s beautiful smile showing all the happiness we were feeling.
I love you. Our love is impossible, but it’s real. It’s as if he’s whispering the words in my ear.
With a tight chest, I open my laptop on the document I had already started.
I don’t know if this will work, if I’ll change my mind in a few minutes, or delete the file the day after tomorrow. All I know is that I feel the need to write, to put into words the memories that I treasure in my heart.
I click on the top bar, where the document name is labelled “new book” and type in the new title instead.
My heart races, a tear runs down my cheek, but I like what I read. It feels right.
I pull my hands away, my eyes fixed on the words on the screen: Falling on a Duke .