EPILOGUE
A NEW “US”
Lidia
The night in Ukulhas seems made of a different substance than the rest of the world.
I don’t know if it’s the constant murmur of the sea crashing against the shore, or the white sand reflecting the moonlight until it turns into stardust, or perhaps the warm air, heavy with salt and the scent of flowers.
I only know that there is something about this island that transforms emotions into something greater, deeper, more real.
And tonight, after my father and Miriam’s wedding, I feel as though my heart is too full to hold everything inside my chest without it overflowing.
Everything was wonderful. From early in the afternoon, when the sun began to set, the entire resort transformed into a fairytale setting: the paths were lit by lanterns dancing to the rhythm of the breeze, and the centerpieces gave off that delightful floral scent Miriam and I spent days choosing.
The guests arrived walking barefoot across the sand, their shoes dangling from their hands and smiles lighting up their faces.
My father didn’t stop smiling for a single moment, and after how hard things had been with Mom, seeing him like that broke my heart in the best way.
I still have etched in my memory the exact moment Miriam appeared, walking toward him down the aisle leading to the altar facing the sea.
How the sun was setting then, painting the sky in shades of orange and deep mauve.
How he began to cry even before she reached his side.
Miriam was radiant in her flowing dress… everything was simply perfect.
A few hours have already passed since that moment when she dried his tears, when they said the famous “I do,” and we all applauded.
I’ve smiled, danced, and hugged people I hadn’t seen in years.
I’ve cried listening to Miriam and my father’s toasts, feeling the way they promised each other a life full of companionship and love.
While they spoke of a new life, of choosing the person you love every day, I couldn’t stop thinking about someone else…
and about another moment: that afternoon when Barbara and I got married in Cádiz, when we promised each other the same thing they did, believing that love would be enough to save everything.
I remember how her hands trembled as she slipped the ring onto my finger; I remember the emotion vibrating in her voice when she told me I was her home.
And I also remember, very clearly, how much it hurt to discover that love isn’t always enough when you don’t know how to take care of what you have.
That wound is still there, perhaps less raw, but still present.
And that’s why, throughout the entire wedding, I haven’t stopped looking at her.
Because yes, Barbara didn’t break her promise to live this sweet moment despite everything. She enjoyed the wedding to the fullest.
I’ve seen her at times among the crowd, chatting with some guests, helping Miriam with a last-minute detail, smiling with that sad restraint I now recognize in her.
She’s wearing a burgundy dress that highlights the golden tone of her skin, and her hair is pulled back in a loose style, letting a few strands escape to be blown by the wind across her cheeks.
She’s beautiful. So beautiful that I find it hard to breathe every time I watch her move, as if the air itself were growing thick.
We haven’t gotten close. We haven’t even spoken to each other. The fear is still there. These days of silence after that conversation at the restaurant have left us suspended in a strange place, one where we both know we love each other, but neither of us is sure about taking the final step.
I try to convince myself that it’s okay this way, that maybe it’s better to let this journey be just that: a beautiful and painful interlude, a memory to return to when real life weighs too heavily.
But that’s a lie. Because as I watch my father kiss Miriam, as people applaud and happiness shines in their eyes, the only thing I can think is that I don’t want to settle for memories.
I want to feel my heart bursting in my chest. Even if it scares me.
Even if it hurts. Even if it means taking a risk again, with everything that entails.
The night unfolds amid music, wine, and laughter rising above the murmur of the sea.
My father dances with Miriam as if he were twenty years younger; she laughs so hard she ends up barefoot on the sand.
I watch it all from the table and think that love, when it’s truly good, has something magical about it that makes you smile nonstop.
I got a message from Alex during dinner: “Jota and I miss you. We can’t wait for you to come home.
” Yeah, I know, I don’t know who I’m trying to fool.
With her, everything would be easy, but I don’t want things to be easy; I want everything I’ve felt since that stormy night, since Barbara and I kissed, since I realized I was still wishing it was her holding me.
I love her. There’s no getting around it.
I love Barbara in a way I haven’t been able to extinguish—not with the passing years, not with anger, and not with the pride that has so often served as my shield.
And when you accept a truth like that, running away no longer makes sense.
I’m finishing my glass of wine when Barbara approaches Miriam to whisper something in her ear. They talk for only a few seconds, and then Barbara leaves. Just like that, without saying goodbye to anyone else, without looking back, and my heart starts pounding like a drum inside my chest.
Miriam walks toward me. I don’t need to ask what they talked about, because I already know.
“Go after her before it’s too late,” she says simply, in a low, firm voice.
I swallow hard, and the fear returns to churn my stomach.
“What if…?”
She smiles.
“You’ll regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t.”
And that’s enough for me. I set down my glass and start running. I rush out of the restaurant, cross the lit-up garden, dodging laughter, lanterns, and people dancing beneath the lights. The air hits my face, warm and salty, and my heart is pounding so hard it almost hurts my chest.
I see her at the end of the wooden walkway leading to the beach. She walks slowly, her shoulders tense, dragging her feet through the sand.
“Barbara, wait!” I shout.
My voice cuts through the night like an echo lost among the waves.
She stops abruptly. And when she turns beneath the silvery moonlight, my whole world stands still.
Because her eyes are brimming with tears, because she’s crying, because even from here I can tell how hard it is for her to walk away from me.
I rush toward her, stopping only when we’re a step away from each other. We look at each other. The sea roars behind us as if it, too, were holding its breath. Barbara opens her mouth, but I don’t give her a chance. Because if I stay silent for even a second, I’ll regret it forever.
“These days without you have been horrible,” I blurt out, my voice breaking with emotion.
“Truly horrible. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for a single moment, not day or night.
Every corner of this island reminded me of us, and it hurt so much that sometimes I had to close my eyes so I wouldn’t break down in front of everyone. ”
She blinks. A tear rolls down her cheek and glistens in the moonlight.
“Lidia…”
I shake my head because I can’t stop now.
“No. Let me speak. Because if I don’t do it now, I’ll hide it again, and I don’t want that anymore.
I don’t want to spend my life missing you, suffering because my heart refuses to forget you, pretending that I’m okay, when the truth is that I’m only okay if you’re by my side.
I’ve tried to convince myself that I could move on without you, but every time I try, your absence grows bigger and heavier. ”
I see something breaking inside her, everything crumbling. She takes a step toward me, and I follow, because there’s no turning back now.
“I’m in love with you.” The words finally come out clearly, without fear, without hesitation.
“I always have been.” It doesn’t matter how many years have passed, or how many women have come into my life or yours.
Alex loves me, yes, but her simplicity and calm aren’t what I need; I need you…
” I confess, looking into her eyes. “I can’t stop searching for you everywhere, in every glance, in every silence, in every corner of the world, and I’m going crazy… ”
Barbara is so close that I can feel the warmth of her body against mine, that familiar warmth that still makes me tremble. Her lips quiver slightly.
“Lidia…”
“I love you,” I whisper, my voice hoarse with emotion. “And I’m tired of pretending I can live without you, tired of keeping all this inside for fear of suffering again…”
She doesn’t let me finish. Suddenly her hands are on my waist, strong, urgent, trembling, and her mouth crashes against mine as if she’s spent a lifetime holding back.
The kiss pierces me. It’s not delicate or cautious.
It’s a kiss full of hunger, of held-back tears, of sleepless nights, of all the love we’ve tried to bury and that, in the end, has survived everything we threw at it.
I moan against her lips when I feel her break down too. Because Barbara cries as she kisses me, and so do I. We both laugh through our tears like two idiots who have finally stopped fighting the inevitable, with happiness buzzing in our chests.
“I love you too, Lidia…” she gasps against my mouth, kissing the corner of my lips, my cheek, my forehead with kisses that are desperate and gentle at the same time.
“I love you so much it hurts right here, in my chest, as if I can’t breathe when you’re not here.
I don’t know how I could have ever thought I could just walk away like that. ”
I wrap my arms tightly around her neck, as if I’m afraid she might disappear.
“Don’t do it,” I beg her, my voice breaking. “Stay. Stay with me, even if we have to learn all over again how to take care of each other. I don’t want any more goodbyes, Barbara. I don’t want any more silences separating us.”
She rests her forehead against mine, and her eyes shine with a certainty that makes my heart race.
“I won’t leave if you let me stay. I want to really try, Lidia.
I want to wake up every morning knowing you’re by my side; I want to fight for us when we need to; I want to be the one who makes you laugh and comforts you when things get hard.
I want everything with you, even if we have scars. Especially because we have scars.”
The moon bathes us in its light, and the sea surrounds us with its constant sound. It is in this moment that I realize love doesn’t always return like it does in fairy tales. Sometimes it comes back broken, weary, marked by the past, but it returns more honest, more real, more intense than ever.
I kiss her again, this time with passion, like someone savoring something they thought was lost and needing to drown in its taste once more just to know it truly exists.
My hands tangle in her hair, hers press me against her body, and for a few minutes the world disappears.
It’s just us, the kiss, the sea, and this certainty burning against our skin.
Afterward, we don’t need to say much more.
We just look at each other with fire in our eyes and head toward my bungalow.
Because our relationship has always been like this, pure fire, and I want to burn alongside her body, alongside her laughter, alongside everything we are when we’re together for the rest of my life.
THE END