Page 147 of Tell Me What You Want

“You didn’t know you were my girlfriend?” he asks.

“No.”

“Are you sure, little girl? You’re really sure about that?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I thought I ... I was your ... your friend ... your lover ... your roll in the hay ... your girl, the way you introduced me to some friends in Zahara. But yourgirlfriend?”

“Well, at Moroccio, you declared yourself Mrs.Zimmerman.”

“Yeah, but ...”

“No ‘buts,’ Miss Flores. I’ve asked you to come live with me in Germany. I mentioned it to my mother, and she wanted to meet you.”

“What?”

“Love, when my mother insisted I return to Germany, I didn’t have a choice but to explain to her that there’s a beautiful Spanish girl who’s driving me crazy and whom I’m trying to convince to come live with me,” he whispers. “After that, she wanted to meet you, so here she is. I love you, you’re my girlfriend, and there’s nothing more to say.”

“What do you mean, ‘there’s nothing more to say’?”

Eric takes another step toward me.

“You don’t want to be my girlfriend?”

My heart beats wildly: I want everything with him, whatever he wants, but I decide to play with him a little. I take another step back.

“I don’t know, Eric ... I don’t know if you and I ...”

“You and I what?” he insists, stepping up again.

“Well, that ... you and I are so different and ...”

He realizes I’m playing and he likes it, but he keeps advancing.

“Do you remember our song?”

I smile when I remember Malú’s “Black and White.”

“Yes.”

“If you were as strict about things as me, I assure you, I never would have noticed you. I like who you are, how you act, how you challenge me, and, most of all, how you help me see life in color instead of just in black and white.”

I know I’m smiling as I listen to him.

“Well ... Mr.Zimmerman, you’re very romantic. What’s happened to you?”

Eric steps up again. This time he shows me his hand. He’s holding a little red-velvet box.

“Open it. It’s for you,” he whispers.

With trembling hands, I open the little box and discover a beautiful diamond ring. I’m speechless.

“Do you like it?”

“B-b-but ... it’s too much, Eric. I don’t need this.”

He grins, pulls out the ring, and puts it on my finger.

“But I need to give it to you.”

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