Chapter 12
“We can only learn to love by loving”
— Iris Murdoch
I arrived at the hotel at two in the morning. While I was waiting for the elevators, one of the receptionists on duty hurriedly approached me, and I looked at him fearfully, wondering if there was some problem at the hotel.
“Good evening, Miss Dukart.”
“Good evening, Blas. Is something wrong?”
“I have a message for you,” he said, smiling. “Although more than a message, I should inform you that there’s someone waiting for you in the lobby, though I’m afraid he’s fallen asleep.”
My pulse quickened. That person could only be Henry, but I couldn’t leave him there. I would have to gather my courage and face him.
“Thank you, Blas. I’ll take care of it,” I said, heading toward the lobby.
“Good night, Miss Dukart,” he greeted formally, as he always did.
When I spotted him asleep in one of the lobby armchairs, my heart softened.
Seeing him like that and knowing he had been waiting for me for a long time filled me with tenderness.
I didn’t know what time he had arrived at the hotel, but from his last message, I suspected it had been several hours ago.
I sat down beside him and took the opportunity to look at him carefully.
He was sitting back against the chair with his head slightly tilted to one side.
He was still wearing the same suit I had seen him in at his sister’s atelier, though he had removed his tie.
It was a dark gray suit with a white shirt.
His hair was slightly disheveled, and a shadow of stubble was already visible, which looked very sexy on him.
Without realizing it, my hand moved toward his face and I caressed it gently.
I barely touched him when he made a gesture with his mouth that resembled a smile.
“Henry?” I called softly, withdrawing my hand.
He slowly opened his eyes until they met mine. That blue color left me breathless. He straightened up immediately and looked around.
“You fell asleep in the hotel lobby.”
“What time is it?” he asked, a bit drowsy.
“A little after two.”
He looked at me with that gaze that made me feel naked whenever it fixed on me.
“You’re just getting back?”
“Yes, I was about to take the elevator when one of the receptionists told me you were here,” I replied.
“Where did you go?” he asked, looking at me attentively.
I couldn’t tell him that I’d been at Niky’s atelier all this time; I needed to come up with something convincing, but I wasn’t very good at that.
“I went out with some friends,” was all I could think of.
He lowered his head and ran his hand through his hair; it was evident that something was bothering him.
“I need to talk to you, Dalina,” he said, looking at me again. “You understand that we still have many things to say to each other, right?”
“I suppose so,” I responded.
“Can we go to your suite?”
“I’d prefer if we talked in the bar.”
“Why? I don’t think we should have this conversation surrounded by people and noise.”
“It’s because I don’t trust you,” I stated.
He looked at me and after a few seconds said:
“Could it be that you don’t trust yourself?”
“You might be right. I know I always become defenseless around you,” I confessed.
“And I become confused,” he said, his gaze reflecting vulnerability. “I have the right to be confused by a creature like you,” he defended himself.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes before saying what I was thinking.
“It’s hard for me to believe when I know clearly that in these last few days you’ve been with many women. I’m not criticizing or judging you—you were free to do whatever you wanted—but if you were confused as you say, you wouldn’t have been going from bed to bed.”
“Maybe it was precisely because of that,” he affirmed.
I got up from the armchair, and he did the same.
“You’re right, we should discuss these matters somewhere more private,” I said, beginning to walk toward the elevators.
“Are we going to your suite?”
“Yes.”
While we waited for the elevator, he couldn’t take his eyes off me.
“You looked very beautiful today in that white dress.”
“Thank you,” I replied, remembering what I had heard him tell Niky about my appearance.
“Why didn’t you tell me it wasn’t yours?”
“Because you didn’t let me speak.”
The elevator doors opened and we went up. In that confined space the journey was intense because I could feel his eyes fixed on me. He had his back against one of the side walls and was looking at me without trying to hide it.
“Can you stop staring at me?” I whispered, looking at him for a moment, because we were accompanied by three people and he didn’t seem to care.
“No,” was his only response.
I exhaled in defeat, I wasn’t going to change his mind, that man was stubborn and obstinate like few others.
We were the last ones to get off because the suite was on the top floor.
As soon as we entered, I asked him to wait in the living room while I went to the bathroom.
I wanted to freshen up and calm down a bit. I looked at myself in the mirror.
“It’s just a conversation...” I told myself.
My pep talk helped very little, so I looked at myself one last time in the mirror and went out. He was sitting on the living room sofa and seemed thoughtful, but he looked stunning. God help me!
“Would you like something to drink?” I asked, before sitting down and to break the ice.
“Whatever you have to offer and as long as you join me.”
“A beer? A glass of wine? Water?”
“A glass of wine would be fine,” he replied.
I went to the kitchen and poured two glasses of wine, noticing that my hands were shaking.
I was nervous and I knew why. I was determined to be honest. If after everything we’d been through together, we were both willing to talk about us again, there was no point in keeping my feelings for him a secret.
My love for Henry was my greatest treasure and I guarded it carefully, but that day I was determined to open my heart and soul.
If that meant he would run away, then I would accept it bravely.
I was sure that his interest in me was purely sexual, even though I had heard him tell Niky that I was special.
I suspected it was because of my age and because he had been my first. If he felt something for me, he couldn’t have been cuddling, hugging, kissing, and having sex, as he surely had been daily, with other women.
I had seen it in person and his sister had confessed it to me.
For me it would be impossible. Although I was about to kiss Nacho, I knew I wouldn’t have gone further than that because I couldn’t have been with someone else, it would only have made me think more about him.
In fact, I might not even have been able to kiss him.
“Thank you,” he said when I handed him the glass.
I sat on the same sofa he was on, but at the opposite end.
“I’m listening, Henry. You’re the one who came here because you insist we need to talk.”
“I want us to get back together,” he stated, looking at me seriously, though he seemed a bit nervous.
“Get back to what?” I asked, determined to make things more than clear.
For a few seconds he remained silent, then took a sip of wine and placed the glass on the coffee table.
“During these weeks we haven’t seen each other, have you missed me?”
“Yes, I have,” I affirmed, without hesitation.
“I’ve missed you... so much,” he said, and I noticed that he tried to move closer, but immediately regretted it and moved back to his place.
“I don’t understand.”
“What don’t you understand?”
“We’re back to what I said before. How can you tell me you missed me when you were with a different woman every day?”
“Because I wanted to stop thinking about you,” he admitted.
The lump in my throat began to grow like a kind of pressure rising from my stomach to my throat and threatening to leave me speechless. I had to recover my voice. I didn’t know whether to drink the entire glass of wine at once, cough, or clear my throat, but I had to speak.
“Can you say something?” he said, a bit confused by my silence.
“Why did you want to stop thinking about me?”
“Because I’m confused, damn it! I know you must think I’m a mess and you must wonder how a man of my age and with so much experience comes to confess that he’s confused like some inexperienced kid, but it’s the truth.” He ran his hand through his hair, messing it up.
“Can you be clearer? What is confusing you?” I pressed.
“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”
“We’re here to talk about what’s happening between us, so let’s be honest,” I stated.
“I’m confused about what you make me feel, I’ve never felt this and... and, I don’t know...” he said, desperately.
“What is ‘this,’ Henry?”
Seeing that he wasn’t willing to answer because he was looking at me terrified, I decided to help him.
“Do you want to know what’s happening to me?” I asked.
“Please.”
I inhaled deeply to gather courage and looked him in the eyes.
I didn’t want to miss any detail of his face when I confessed my feelings.
Would he look horrified and reject me? Would he smile?
Would he run away? The only way to know was to say it once and for all and wait for the consequences of my confession.
“I fell in love with you, Henry Woollardy. I love you. I don’t know when it happened, but even though I’ve never been in love before, I know that what I feel for you is love, it can’t be anything else. As my friend Sean said, ‘you just feel it intensely’.”
There it was. I had said it, I had bared my soul and now I was sitting in front of him as he stared at me without blinking.
“You love me?” he asked, with disbelief.
I lowered my eyes and nodded, then looked back up at him. If I had come this far, it wasn’t the time to lose my courage.
“You love me,” and this time he stated it.