MATHEUS...
I can't bear to see all this suffering from my Rafa and do nothing. I have been negligent enough in my children's lives and hers, I closed my eyes and turned my back when they needed me the most, I let her breathe without my presence in her life for six whole years.
Those were years in which I punished myself, allowed another woman in my bed just so I could feel a little less worse, so I could feel a little of the rejection that I had caused Rafa.
I know that nothing I have done during this time will sanctify me and make me worthy of Rafa's love. But I was extremely immature, I was afraid of not being the prince of her dreams, damn it, I had known her since childhood, she grew up in the same house as me...
When I started seeing her grow from a girl into a woman... I started feeling jealous of the looks men gave her, many times I reprimanded most of the house's security guards who spent too much time staring at her, at the way she took care of the flowers, or the shy way she sat by the pool and played with her feet in the water.
I remember finding her sitting under some distant tree on the property, reading a book. It was during these moments that I allowed myself to admire her beauty. Sometimes I would go to her and lie down on the grass with my head on her lap, she would always stroke my hair while her attention remained on her book.
These are the memories I have from that time, which make me feel so guilty for all the suffering that now overwhelms our lives.
"I don't want to fail you anymore, Rafa... I can't..."
She just shakes her head, denying it, still clinging to me. No one can be a wall all the time, no matter how much she tries to maintain her warrior posture.
I lean in and leave a kiss on her hair, I look at our son, and it hurts so much to see my boy like this... I walk over to him, with Rafa still holding onto me, I run my hand through his brown, curly hair, just like Rafa's.
We hold his hand, caress him, while our tears fall from our eyes. We spend more than ten minutes in there, maybe about twenty, but when we leave, I realize that I have to do something about our son being in that condition.
"I'll take you home, you're not in a condition to drive. I'll take your car and then call a taxi to come pick up mine."
She doesn't say anything, just nods. It kills me to see her like this, I would prefer if she were throwing jabs at me, treating me with coldness... Not like this, accepting everything I say. I take her home and as soon as she gets out of the car and enters the house, I follow her and place her purse on the couch.
"I'll order food for you to have dinner. What do you want me to order?"
"I'm not hungry..." are the first words she directs at me in almost an hour.
"You need to eat, Rafa..." I hate having to use this kind of argument, but I know she will only accept to eat if I do this—"our son needs his mother to be strong..."
She collapses onto the couch, as if the weight of my words hit her hard, can I be any more despicable than this? Using our son to manipulate her... What have I become?
"I don't want fast food..." she pauses—"I just want our son to be alright..."
"I can do something, if you want," she looks at me as if I had just grown a second head—"don't look at me like that, I know the basics in the kitchen."
"I'll... I'll take a shower," she gets up and goes to the staircase, once she has climbed the first two steps, she stops and looks over her shoulder—"the pantry is the second door, the first one leads to the laundry room. The pots are in the lower cabinet, dishes in the upper one... Cutlery is in the second and third drawer."
She says and finishes climbing the stairs. I take a deep breath and go to her kitchen, I've been here once before so I know the way to it. I pause for a moment and think about what I can make for her for dinner, something that's quick but healthy. I consider calling my mom and asking her to ask Ana what Rafa likes. But I give up, how would I explain to my mom that I'm in Rafa's kitchen making dinner when our entire family thinks she can't stand me?
Well, she doesn't completely hate me anymore, but... Anyway. I put my hands on my waist and say a little prayer to God, asking for his help so I don't burn the kitchen or make Rafa end up in the hospital with food poisoning.
I take the risk and make what I know she used to love when we were inseparable: spaghetti bolognese. She always made it when we were home alone, and I remember her telling me many times that it was her favorite dish. I hope it still is and she hasn't turned into a vegetarian.
When I finish making dinner, she comes downstairs, I see her bloodshot eyes and realize she's cried some more. I grab a plate and put the pasta on it, add the sauce, meatballs, a sprinkle of grated cheese, and slide the plate in front of her.
"I hope you still like this..."
She looks remorseful at the plate, but soon a brief smile appears.
"It's his favorite food too... Ana prefers lasagna, same as..."
"I... I haven't had a decent lasagna in a long time, your mom has a talent not everyone possesses."
She starts eating, silently, slowly. I clean up the mess I made and she looks at me curiously.
"Aren't you going to eat too?"
"I've already invaded your space enough. At home I eat anything."
"Stop being such an arrogant jerk, Matheus," I stop in the middle of the kitchen and look at her, a little ashamed by the way she spoke, "if you're not eating, then neither am I."
Great, now she wants to play with me, and all of this because she knows that even though I'm an arrogant jerk who broke her heart, I would do anything for her and the kids. And that's why, at this moment, I grab a plate and put some of the spaghetti on it.
This little woman is going to be the death of me, oh she will... And I can't wait for it to happen. For her to have me in her hands and do whatever she wants with me. I'd go to space to collect as many stars as possible, just to make her smile like before. To see her with the same calm expression she had when we were alone under the shade of the trees.
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