57
GAbrIELA DUARTE
Cris asked me to walk to the pier with him.
My mother stayed with the three children. Camila was asleep, and I left the discharge instructions on the table. I took my phone. Cris waited while I got a coat.
It was the walk we’d taken for years whenever we needed to talk away from the children. The sun was setting behind the roofs, turning the water copper. I suspected he knew about Luca.
“Did you argue again?” he asked.
I stopped.
“Why?”
“I ran into Luca early this morning. He barely said hello.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“All right.”
We walked on. Cris never used silence as punishment, which made it harder to hide from him.
“I slept with him,” I confessed a few steps later. “Then we talked about the office. He’d commissioned a study for a tribute to my father without asking me.”
“Did you ask him to stop?”
“Yes. He’s put the study on hold.”
Cris nodded. We walked a little farther without speaking.
We reached a bench facing the boats. Cris sat down and turned a small wooden box between his fingers. My stomach sank.
“Cris…”
“Don’t panic. I haven’t opened it yet.”
“That doesn’t help.”
He smiled, but there was sadness in his eyes.
“I rehearsed a speech. It was terrible. Like a business proposal with feelings attached.”
“Don’t do this just because Luca’s back.”
“I didn’t bring this to stop you from being with him. But I’d be lying if I said his return hadn’t made me stop putting it off.”
“Why didn’t you ask before?”
“I was afraid you’d say no. And it was easy to wait a little longer when you needed me for so many other things.”
“And you’re not afraid now?”
“I am. I just don’t want to keep pretending I’m not hoping for anything.”
Cris opened the box. The ring was simple, a small stone on a gold band. Exactly the kind I would have chosen.
“Marry me.”
The sounds from the boats seemed to grow louder.
I imagined a morning with Cris in the kitchen, the familiarity of sharing a bed, the peace of never having to explain why he was part of us.
It was a tender picture. When I tried to imagine kissing him as we woke, something inside me pulled back. I closed my eyes.
“I love you,” he went on. “I know what our life is like when the children get sick, when work runs late, when nobody sleeps. I want the parts we don’t share yet too.”
“Cris, I don’t know if I can want that.”
He kept the box open between us.
“What if I only say yes because I’m afraid of losing you?”
Cris looked at the water.
“Then don’t.”
The silence made me look up. Cris wasn’t smiling anymore.
“I can stay in the children’s lives and be hurt by your answer,” he said. “It won’t be easy for me. But one doesn’t buy the other.”
I looked at the man who’d held my hand in the hospital and been there for so many birthdays. I touched the edge of the box. I couldn’t touch the ring.
“I can’t say yes now.”
Cris nodded.
“Do you want to think, or are you trying not to hurt me?”
The question hurt because I couldn’t answer quickly.
“Both,” I admitted. “I need to understand how I feel without imagining I’ll lose everything if I say no.”
Cris closed the box.
“Think about it. But then give me an answer, Gabi. Let’s not leave this hanging between us for years.”
I nodded. He watched the boats while I tried to find something to say that wouldn’t deepen his sadness.
He put the ring away. I kept my empty hands in my lap.
Across the street, a dark car parked. Luca got out carrying a folder. He saw us on the bench and stopped for a moment. Cris saw him too.
Cris followed my gaze to the car.
“We can finish our conversation,” I said. “He can wait.”
We stayed on the bench. I waited for the question about why we were there, so close together. Luca crossed the street. His fingers tightened on the folder before he greeted me.
“Your mother said you were at the pier. I brought the copy of the property documents you asked for.”
He held out the folder.
“The same files I sent your lawyer, including the commission for the study and the suspension.”
I took the folder. Luca glanced at Cris, then turned back to me.
“Is Camila all right?”
“My mother’s with all three. Camila was asleep when we left.”
“I’ll be there tomorrow at the time we agreed on.”
“All right.”
Luca nodded to Cris and went back to the car. I watched him leave.
The folder was heavy on my knees. Cris looked at it, then at me.
“Do you want to go back?”
“I want to stay a little longer.”
He nodded. We stayed until the lights on the boats began to come on. I didn’t bring up Luca.
On the way back, I opened the folder in the light of a shop window. My father’s name was on the old deed. I closed it and kept walking. Near the guesthouse, Cris took a key from his pocket.
“I got this today. I’m moving to the apartment above Bento’s workshop. I want to stop living out of suitcases. My office will stay where it is until I can arrange another space.”
He showed me the key, then put it away.
“Are you leaving?”
“Three streets away. I’d already been looking before today. I need a place of my own, Gabi.”
“I’ll miss finding you in the kitchen without having to make plans.”
“You can invite me. I’ll invite you all over too.”
Two days later, I helped him move, with the boys. My mother stayed with Camila, who sent a yellow mug for the new apartment. Heitor wanted to know if it was a secret base. Noah looked for the spot where Cris would set up the video games.
Before leaving, I asked whether he needed anything else. Cris looked at the boxes and said not for now. I closed the door behind me, expecting to hear his footsteps. He stayed to put his own home in order.