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“My heart did,” he said. “My mother wasn’t the most beautiful woman in Brazil, which is how these stories often start. She was plain and overlooked with nine brothers and sisters. My grandparents kicked her out at fifteen after she became pregnant with me because a man much too old for her wielded the word ‘beautiful’ like a magic key. Yet, to me, she was the most lovely sight, an angel. And she was the kindest person I knew. Before you, I’d never met someone else like that. Someone who makes you reconsider the way you look at the world. The first time we met,” the corner of his mouth tugged, “you smiled at me. You looked up at me with those eyes, holding Theo, and said, ‘Oh, hi. Come on in, suite neighbor.’”
The memory slowly returned, of him standing outside her office door wearing gray dress pants, a matching vest, a white dress shirt, and a navy blue tie. Looking back, knowing what she now knew, she realized he never looked at her like a stranger would have.
“Do you remember it?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Do you remember when Theo spit up on me?”
“Oh my gosh, and then I asked you how much the shirt cost and you said, ‘Only fifteen hundred.’ I almost died right there. My son had just covered your fifteen hundred dollar shirt in breastmilk and baby-grade stomach acid.”
He laughed. “You tried to dab it off.”
“And made it worse.”
“Then when I told you it was getting worse, you said, ‘Oh, crap. I’m so sorry.’ Do you remember what you did after?”
She smiled. “I hugged you.”
“Like it was nothing.” He released a quiet laugh. “Like your mind had already made up that I was worth hugging, so it came naturally. Ayesha, you sawworthinside me, and as I got to know you, I decided that if you would have me, I would make love to you. I knew from then that I was never going to hurt you. I didn’t expect to fall in love, but I did, and loving you after loving no one for so long has been extraordinary. So, you see, I didn’t choose you, my querida. You found your way into my heart.”
She fiddled with her thumbnails, head down.
“I gave you a flutter?” he asked.
“A little bit.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m from Brazil. We’re known for giving flutters.”
“How can I allow that to happen, though? What kind of a wife does that make me?”
“Ayesha, would you ever leave Joel for me?”
“No offense, but never.”
“Then why look so worried?”
“I don’t want Joel to feel like I betrayed him by caring about you the way I do,” she said. “Like I’mbetrayinghim. He means so much, Adrían. So much that I feel like I’m dying whenever I look at him in that bed. We have children, and yet, in my mind, I feel like if he doesn’t make it, I won’t either.”
He tapped his chest. “Ayesha, you look at me like a person. You look at him like he was Montezuma’s treasure all along.”
“You’ll have to explain that one to me sometime.”
She looked over at Joel.
Please, baby.
Fight.
Come home.
I need you.
I love you.
“Is the baby okay?” Adrían asked. At the surprise on her face, he added, “Joel told me. And, apparently, he asked one of the paramedics if his ‘wife’s boyfriend’ made it, but I think he was in too much pain for the sarcasm to shine through. So they toldmethat the baby didn’t seem to be in any distress.”
“The baby’s okay,” she said, laughing a little. “Only Joel would crack a joke like that while fighting for his life.”
