About a month later…

That had been the first relapse, but not the last. I had many after that. We were like a powder fuse. We didn’t always need a reason to light everything up. The worst for me was not the relapses, but the feeling that was in me after the “jokes” I did with X. It is a mixture of passion with guilt that corroded me inside. To kill the guilt, I seduced my husband, who considered me the perfect wife, since he had sex every day and in various ways.

As much as I wanted to get away, even more I was close to X. Things are never as we want, and I’m the living proof. Each day, I felt more involved in that plot that I caused: I loved my husband, but I am hopelessly in love with Mr. X.

I was looking for a way to put a stop to everything and take the reins of the situation. I really believed that once I went on vacation, I would take care of all that, but that only meant more free time with Mr. X, which was my undoing. Every good day and good night, every “joke”, second intentions, I sank even deeper into that sea of feelings.

—So, what do you think, love? - asks Carlos, waking me up from my thoughts. He looks at me as if he expects some answer.

—Are you daydreaming again, dear? - my mother asks me.

I look around, and everyone awaits my endorsement for my birthday. It’s a beautiful Sunday, lunch day at my parents' house. To be honest, I have no idea how I got here. It was like I turned on my auto mode and only woke up now.

— Do as you please. – I reply, irritated. — You know, I hate celebrating my birthday.

They looked at each other and went on to decide the details without my help. My birthday would fall on Friday of that week, so they decided to celebrate it on Saturday. We stayed a little longer until we finally went home. I spent the journey in silence thinking about my choices and the effect they had on me.

— Are you okay? - asks Carlos, already inside the apartment.

—Yes, just with a little migraine. I go to the bedroom to rest a little.—I say going to the bedroom.

I close the door and turn on my computer. I listen to the television in the room being turned on. Carlos will undoubtedly be playing all afternoon. I turn on my MSN and open Mr. X’s window.

Dalia Penedo Salazar says:
Good afternoon, X.

Mr. X says:
Good afternoon, Doce. How was lunch at your parents' house?

Dalia Penedo Salazar says:
It was good … until they started talking about my birthday party.

Mr. X says:
So your birthday is very close… When is it ?

Dalia Penedo Salazar says:
Friday, but trust me, I don’t like to celebrate my birthday.

Mr. X says:
Why?

Dalia Penedo Salazar says:
I feel old, like time is passing, and I haven’t done anything worthwhile in life.

Mr. X says:
Is there anything you’d like me to give you for your birthday?

Dalia Penedo Salazar says:
I don’t want anything. I don’t even celebrate my birthday, make an idea to want this, X. In fact, I just celebrate someone makes a surprise party. For the record, I hate surprises.

So I stop writing and pay attention to what Mr. X said: I can ask anything of him… Anything… I smile, I know exactly what I want from him:

Dalia Penedo Salazar says:
But since you’re offering… I want you to call me on my birthday. So I can hear the voice behind the words.

Mr. X says:
As you wish, but I do not guarantee a schedule, because here in the company everything is well done.

Dalia Penedo Salazar says:
No problem, I’ll give you my cell number. I’m sure my husband will take me out to dinner, but he won’t mind if I answer the phone.

I pass my number to him, cheerful. I will finally hear the voice of X.

***

— Good morning. – says Carlos, hugging me by the waist and smelling my hair. I’m finishing preparing our croissants. — woke up with the rooster, was it?

—Yeah, I think it’s because of the date. - I respond, trying to disguise my anxiety. It’s my birthday, the day to finally listen to his voice. I woke up before six, which is very rare. I deliver the croissant to Carlos and take the coffee from the coffee maker.— As is the schedule.

—I have a meeting today. Let’s talk about the project and everything. And at night... - says Carlos, rotating me in the kitchen. — We have a reservation at nine in his favorite restaurant. And then… a super special gift…

—Hummm... and what gift will that be? - I ask, kissing my husband.

—Secret- replies Carlos. He hugs me and kisses me intensely. Until his beep rings.  — Damn, the service calls me.

—Go fight crime, my superhero.- I say smiling at Carlos, who leaves with the croissant in his hand and his briefcase in the other.

I take my breakfast staring at my phone, anytime X will call me. I need to be attentive. As I walk away to put the dishes in the washing machine, my phone rings, making my heart race. I go through the kitchen and pick up my cell phone, answering, nervous:

—At long last!

— Happy birthday, Dalia! - says Filomena on the other side of the line.

—Hi, Fi. Thank you.- I say, disappointed.

—- Wow, were you expecting someone else? - asks Fi, suspicious.

—My sister... well, how are you? - I ask, changing the subject.

—I’m fine. I called to see how you’re doing.

—I’m fine… -I answer. Then I hear the two rings that indicate that I have another call on the line. I look at the visor and an unknown number appears... Will it be Mr.X? — Fi, I’m sorry, but I have another call on the line...

—Okay, see you when class comes back. - says Fi . — See you.

—See you. - I say and already hang up, attending another.—  Hello?

— Hello, is it from this number that a beautiful woman is completing another spring? - says Julio on the other side of the line.

— Hi Julio. - I answer.

—Hi, great. Congratulations! I know you hate this date, but I had to call and say hello.

—Thank you for remembering. - I say not very happy. — How is New York?

—Wonderful. I’m sorry I can not spend with you this date so dear, but … you know how my life is.

—I know, yes. - I say. — I’m glad you called me.

—Well, that’s all I called. Congratulations and have an amazing day full of accomplishments.

—Thank you. - I say impatiently. — Bye.

The rest of the day was not much different. With each connection, I filled my heart with hope. On that birthday, only missed the pope call me, minus X. Did he forget it was my birthday? I run to the room and enter the MSN. It is offline.

It’s already dark when I hear my doorbell ring. I think it’s strange the manager didn’t tell me someone was coming up. I open the door and run into a huge bouquet of red roses.

—Mrs Penedo Salazar? - asks the boy with the flowers.

—It’s me. - I reply, surprised with the arrangement.

He hands me the roses and gives me the delivery order. I close my door with difficulty. So I sit on the couch looking for the envelope that comes up, red among the roses. Open and I come across a beautiful message:

“You are at the height of the maturity of the experience, and you have to be very proud of it. Thank you for being part of my life, for being attentive to me in the moments I sought your help and could tell. I really like you, and I will ask God to keep good days in your life and that we can continue to understand each other in our relationship. Happy Birthday, you are Happy with this date.
Always yours,
Carlos.”

I smile, admiring the beautiful bouquet. I look for a vase to put it on. I straighten the roses and put them on the dining table. As much as I’d like to wait for Mr. X, the hours are passing, and I need to get ready for dinner. I take a long shower, do my makeup and bounce the curls off my hair. I want to look beautiful to my husband. I take my green dress with an open back, a little short, but Carlos was never jealous of my clothes.

I hear the door of the room open, then I go there and meet Carlos, who stops to see me dressed.

—Wow, you look beautiful.- exclaims Carlos, practically drooling.—That way we will not get to the restaurant. - he kisses me and says. — I’ll take a quick shower and be right back.

I sit on the couch staring at my phone, no X. I keep thinking about all the terrible things that might have happened to him. So I move on to the possibility that his wife found out about us… until I conclude that maybe he won’t call me. Maybe I’m not special enough...

—Shall we? - asks Carlos, scaring me.

— Come on. - I reply, leaving my cell phone on the coffee table. Hold my husband’s arm, and we walk to the exit.