58
LUCA BELLANDI
Cris told me about the proposal a few days after he moved.
I was taking the boys back to the guesthouse; he’d stopped at the school to give Gabriela a permission form. She would arrive shortly. We waited beside the car, away from the gate.
“I asked Gabriela to marry me.”
For a moment, the street fell silent. I kept my eyes on the gate.
“Did she say yes?”
“She asked for time to think.”
“Why are you telling me?”
“Because you saw us at the pier. I don’t want to keep guessing what you think happened there.”
I clenched the keys in my hand. Every impulse came at once: ask what Gabriela felt, remind Cris that she’d spent the night with me, use our children as an argument, demand an advantage that wasn’t mine. Five years earlier, I would have acted on every one of them.
“I hope she chooses whatever makes her happy.”
Cris held my gaze.
“That’s a nice answer. I want the honest one.”
I let out a breath.
“The honest answer is that I don’t want to imagine you married. And I don’t want to talk about her with you.”
Cris nodded and took the form from his pocket.
“Then we’ll leave it there.”
I loosened my grip. The keys had left marks on my palm.
Gabriela arrived with Camila, who hadn’t returned to school yet. The boys came out soon afterward: Heitor came to me, and Noah looked for Cris. A mother passing by greeted him as the boys’ father. Cris answered, and I felt my face grow hot.
“People still do that?” I asked while Gabriela checked the backpacks.
“Since they were babies.”
“And you’ve never corrected them?”
“When it mattered, yes. On forms, at appointments, in conversations with the children. I don’t hold up the line at the bakery to explain the family tree.”
That afternoon, I went with Gabriela and Camila to the local checkup arranged with the S?o Paulo team.
Her recovery was going well; she was cleared for a gradual return to school over the next few days.
In the car, I didn’t mention Cris. Gabriela brought it up after she saw our daughter had fallen asleep.
“Did Cris tell you?”
“He did.”
“And you’re not going to say anything?”
“It’s your decision.”
“I know. But we slept together. I don’t want us to talk as if nothing happened.”
She turned toward the window. I stayed silent until she faced me again.
“That’s never stopped you from having an opinion.”
“I have plenty. None would help you.”
“Try.”
I stopped outside the guesthouse and switched off the engine.
“I think Cris is a good man. But I won’t pretend I want to see you married to him.”
The truth hung between us.
“Would you try to stop me?”
“No.”
She looked at Camila in the rearview mirror.
“You’re being very reasonable. It’s irritating.”
“I could pound on the hood and declare that no other man will have you, if that helps.”
Her laugh caught me by surprise. I smiled before the pain returned.
“What if I choose Cris?”
“I’ll be jealous. I’ll probably need some distance from you for a while, apart from what we need to discuss about the children.”
She was quiet.
“That isn’t the answer I wanted to give,” I added.
“At least it’s an answer.”
She looked at my hands on the wheel.
“Did you think about looking for something to use against him?”
“I thought about asking for information. Then I imagined you finding another file put together behind your back.”
“Did you investigate him?”
“No.”
“You didn’t ask Matteo?”
“No. Matteo is still working on the Lorenzo investigation. I haven’t asked for anything on you and Cris.”
I got out to lift Camila from the car. She woke and wrapped her arms around my neck.
“Daddy,” she murmured.
My breath caught. She fell asleep again with her face against my neck.
I waited a few seconds before walking to the door.
I carried her to her room and took off her shoes.
I still wasn’t used to hearing Camila call me Daddy.
Perhaps I never would be. I checked her medicines and said goodbye. At the door, Gabriela took my arm.
“Are you angry with me?”
“No. I’m afraid of losing you.”
At the rental house, I worked late. Matteo had told me the investigators had received documents from Lorenzo’s adviser and were checking the payments they’d already found. My phone vibrated. Gabriela.
“I haven’t answered Cris yet.”
I typed three replies and deleted them all. Finally, I wrote:
“Thank you for telling me. I’m going to try to sleep.”
I left the phone away from the bed. It took me a long time to switch off the light.
The next day, I found Cris at the guesthouse when I went to get the boys. He was dropping off the jacket Noah had left behind during the move.
“This is his,” he said, holding it out.
“I’ll take it.”
Noah came to check the pockets and found a toy car. He showed it to Cris before putting it away. I held the jacket until he was done.
Heitor announced that he was hungry. I gave him the snack Gabriela had set aside. Cris said goodbye, and I took the boys to school.