Page 58 of Until You Came Along
“I only have my brother, Tom. My mother passed away a few years ago, and my father abandoned us when we were little. Unfortunately, my brother lives in Miami, and we can't see each other as much as we'd like.”
“I'm sorry about your mother.”
“It's been quite a few years now. The pain of her loss will always be with me; I doubt it will ever disappear because I miss her every day. With time, you learn to live without the person you love and to coexist with the emptiness they leave behind.”
“Love and loss always go together; it's part of the deal. That's one of the reasons I closed myself off to that feeling,” he stated seriously.
“But good things come with love too, things you'll only experience if you give it a chance.”
“You say that as if you have experience, but you told me you only had a youthful infatuation,” he questioned.
“I'm not saying it from personal experience; I'm saying it because I've seen the good things and the happiness it has brought to people close to me.”
“That's not valid. Until you experience it yourself, you can't really have an opinion.”
“I prefer to remain optimistic.”
He stared at me intently, as if trying to reach my soul, and it made me shiver. After a few minutes, his expression changed, and he looked at me cautiously again.
“I’ve been researching your professional career. You’re well-respected and very talented. I’d venture to say you’re among the best economists in the country.”
“You’ve been doing what? You’re a stalker.”
“I don’t see myself that way. I just wanted to know a bit more about you, and let me tell you, I was very impressed. In fact, I’d like to get your opinion on some financial matters related to my company,” he commented quite naturally.
“You want my professional opinion?”
“It would be very important to have your advice.”
“We can have a business meeting, but I warn you that my services are expensive.”
“I think I can afford it,” he affirmed with a big smile.
From that point on, the conversation became more relaxed. We talked about our professions and companies, chatted a bitabout our siblings and our childhood, and after dessert, we decided to go to my apartment for “the talk.”
When we arrived, I felt extremely nervous. I didn’t know how this would end, but getting to know him a little better and having chatted about trivial things made him seem less unattainable and, although it sounds contradictory, that made me feel more nervous and anxious.
“Would you like me to make some coffee?” I asked.
“I’d like that,” he responded, while sitting down on the living room sofa.
I left the coffee maker running and went to the en-suite bathroom in my bedroom. I needed to calm down. I refreshed myself, brushed my teeth, and looked at myself in the mirror.
Come on, Delfina, you’re no coward!I encouraged myself.
I returned to the kitchen, poured two cups of coffee, and went to meet him. When I arrived, I found him examining the painting that Baco had given me.
“Your brother is very talented,” I stated, as I set the tray down on the coffee table.
Hermes turned and looked at me.
“He mentioned that you encouraged him to give the painting to my mother,” he said, as he approached and sat back down on the sofa.
“Something like that. I brought sugar and sweetener.”
“I take it black,” he announced.
“Well…now that we’re here, I think it’s time for you to tell me about your past.”
