Chapter 19 Choosing You, Keeping Me
SERAFINA
On Monday morning I stand at the dresser in my childhood room, unwrapping the brown paper from Rafael's gift.
The jasmine vial catches the light when I lift it free, pale gold concentrate in a small glass bottle.
I uncap it, prepare a smelling strip, and let the first rush of scent settle before lifting the paper.
The scent unfolds in layers. Green and sweet at first, then deeper, richer, with none of the harshness that lesser jasmine carries.
I want to smell it again later, after the first sweetness has softened.
I cap the bottle and wrap it again, setting it back on the dresser where it will wait until I know what I want to build around it.
My phone is beside the bed. I call the family lawyer, whose number has been in my contacts since I first needed help with my perfumery accounts.
"I've changed my mind," I tell her, looking at the wrapped vial on the dresser.
"I don't want to go ahead with the divorce.
" She acknowledges my decision, and I thank her before ending the call.
That's done. I text Rafael a single word: Done. His reply comes quickly, just a small red heart, and I smile at the screen before I put it away.
Downstairs, my mother is reading at the kitchen table, a cup of tea cooling beside her. She looks up when I come in. I tell her I've made the call, and she puts her book down and pulls me into a hug.
"I'm not going to pack everything today." I stay against her shoulder a moment longer. "I'd like a little more time here."
"Stay as long as you need." She releases me and returns to her chair, gesturing toward the stove. "There's bread on the counter. Sit with me a while."
I pour myself a glass of water and sit across from her, letting the ordinary morning settle around me. She doesn't press for details about yesterday or ask what comes next. She just turns the page of her book and leaves her hand beside mine while I eat.
After lunch, I change into a soft shirt and loose trousers and put away the notes I've been making about the jasmine. When Rafael's car comes into the courtyard, I meet him outside. For once, I'm ready without having spent half the morning deciding what the invitation means.
"I want to walk." I step out into the sunshine and close the door behind me. "Somewhere quiet. Just us."
"I know a place." He opens the passenger door and waits while I get in. "Near the boundary, where the old groves meet. Nobody goes there this time of day."
The drive is short, winding through familiar rows of citrus and then into the wilder growth at the edge of his family's land. He parks near a gap in a low stone wall and retrieves a large blanket from the back seat, tucking it under his arm.
"This way." He offers me his hand and I take it, letting him lead me down a narrow path between ancient trees.
The groves here are older, less cultivated, the kind of place where the land does what it wants. Afternoon light filters through the leaves in shifting patterns, warm and green and gold. I can hear birds calling somewhere above us and the soft crunch of our footsteps on fallen leaves.
"I used to come here when I needed to think." Rafael holds a branch aside so I can pass. "Before we were married. Before everything."
"You never brought me here." I look around at the dappled light, the twisted trunks of trees that have been growing for generations.
"I wanted to." He lets the branch swing back behind us. "I kept meaning to."
The path opens into a small clearing backed by crumbling stone, the remains of some old structure long since claimed by the land. Wild grass grows thick and soft, and the trees around us create a natural shelter from everything beyond.
Rafael stops beside me, the blanket still tucked under his arm. He doesn't move toward the grass or start spreading it out. He just stands there, watching me look around, waiting.
He seems perfectly willing to spend the afternoon standing here if that's what I want. It makes me curious enough to turn from the view.
"You're not going to suggest anything?" I turn to face him. "No itinerary? No schedule?"
"I thought I'd try something new." The corner of his mouth lifts. "Letting you decide."
"Revolutionary." I walk past him toward the low stone wall, trailing my fingers along the rough surface. Moss grows in the cracks, soft and green, and somewhere behind the stones I can hear the rustle of something small moving through the undergrowth.
He follows but keeps his distance, giving me space to explore.
The blanket shifts under his arm as he moves, and I catch myself watching the way the light falls across his shoulders.
When did I start noticing that again? When did I stop cataloguing every interaction for signs of trouble and just let myself look at my husband?
"There's something in my hair, isn't there?" I reach up and feel the tangle near my temple. "I walked through a branch back there."
"A blossom." He steps closer, his free hand rising toward my face. "Hold still."
I hold still. His fingers brush my temple, gentle, working the small white flower free from where it's caught in my hair. He's very close now, close enough that I can see a small nick beneath his jaw where he missed with his razor.
"Got it." He holds up the blossom between two fingers, but he doesn't step back.
"Were you planning to kiss me just now?" The question comes out before I can stop it, blunt and curious.
"I was thinking about it." He keeps the little flower between us, apparently hoping it will distract me from the admission.
"What stopped you?" I stay where I am. He could have closed that distance without much effort.
"I wanted to get the flower out first." He tucks the blossom behind my ear instead of dropping it, his fingers lingering near my jaw. "Seemed like the polite thing to do."
I laugh at the uselessness of taking a flower out of my hair only to put it back. He grins at me, pleased with himself, and I leave it there.
"Come look at something." I take his free hand and pull him toward the far end of the wall, where the stones have tumbled into a gap. "I want to see what's on the other side."
"I haven't found buried treasure yet." He comes with me anyway, steadying me as I step through the gap.
"You may not have been looking properly." I pick my way over the fallen stones, keeping hold of his hand. "I'd like to judge for myself."
Beyond the wall, a small hollow has formed where rain has worn away the soil, and in the soft dirt I can see the clear imprint of tracks. Rabbit, maybe, or something smaller. A line of tiny prints leads away into the undergrowth.
"Someone lives here." I crouch down to look closer, and he crouches beside me. "Or passes through, anyway."
"Should we follow them?" He looks along the narrow opening in the undergrowth, judging whether we could fit.
"Where do you think they go?" I trace the line of prints with my eyes, watching them disappear into the wild growth beyond the wall.
"Somewhere important, probably. Secret rabbit business." He lowers his voice as though the owner of the tracks might overhear.
"Secret rabbit business." I snort, losing any chance of pretending I find him dignified.
"Very serious." He points at the prints leading past the wall. "Appointments to keep. Vegetables to steal."
"You're ridiculous." I stand up, brushing dirt from my knees, and he rises with me. "How long have you been studying their affairs?"
"I'm glad you appreciate it." He offers his hand to help me back through the gap. "I worried I was wasting my best material."
I reach up and touch his face, letting my palm rest against his cheek. He leans into it, his eyes closing briefly, and I feel something shift in my chest. Not the sharp ache of wanting something I can't have, but the warm spread of having something I almost lost.
"What would you do," I ask, "if you had a whole free day? No work, no obligations, nobody expecting anything from you."
He opens his eyes and considers the question seriously. "Sleep late. Eat something slow. Find you and do exactly this." He gestures at the clearing around us. "Nothing important. Nothing productive. Just time."
"That's a good answer." I let my hand drop from his face. "I'd do the same thing. Except I'd make you bring me breakfast first."
"Naturally." He looks toward the clearing, as if weighing where he could put a tray without involving the rabbit. "You'd take all the jam otherwise."
I brush a little dirt from his sleeve before we move away from the wall. He leaves me to it, still smiling about the jam. I like being able to touch him without first deciding what it will mean.
Rafael unfolds the blanket over the soft grass, smoothing the corners with his palms. When he looks up at me, his expression is open and waiting.
I sit down beside him, close enough that our shoulders touch. The ground is soft beneath the blanket, the grass underneath providing cushion, and the afternoon sun is warm on my face.
"This is beautiful." I lean back on my hands and look up at the canopy. "I can't believe I've never been here."
"There's a lot of land on both sides of the boundary." He settles beside me, his weight shifting the blanket slightly. "I kept finding new corners for years."
We sit in comfortable quiet, watching the light move through the leaves. A bird lands on a branch above us and tilts its head, studying us with bright curious eyes before flying off again.
"You smell like yourself today." Rafael turns his head toward me, his nose wrinkling slightly. "Your usual blend. The one with the bergamot underneath."
"You noticed." I look at him sideways. "I didn't think you paid attention to what I wore."
"I used to know when you'd come into a room without looking up." He shifts toward me, leaving the view beyond the trees. "I want to notice when you do again. And tell you."
"I used to put it on and hope you'd notice." I rub a thumb over the inside of my wrist. "I put it on for myself today."