Page 99 of My Heart's Doctor
Every morning we would go running on the beach and then take a dip and lie in the sun for a while.
“Yes, perhaps it’s just a matter of time,” I said, surprised by his comment because we had been talking about what we would do that night, and out of nowhere, he had made that remark.
“You think you can fool me; but, darling, I know you’re immensely sad. I don’t want you to keep behaving as you have been, trying to hide your sadness. It’s not good. Sadness burns and destroys you from within, and you’re trying to store it, bury it inside you, and that will cause you greater harm. Sadness isn’t weakness. You need to express the pain you feel,” he pointed out, while I looked at him surprised by his reflections, but veryattentive to them. “Imagine how harmful it is for all that anguish to be kept inside you. Let out that cry you’re holding back, let the bomb explode and cry until you have no more tears. I’m here for you. It’s time to heal, beautiful,” he finished, putting an arm around my shoulders to pull me closer and hug me.
“Thank you, Orson. I love you,” I affirmed, resting my head on his shoulder.
“And I love you too.”
“It’s my fault. I broke my own heart because I knew William was getting under my skin and even so, I insisted that I could handle the situation. I was delusional.”
“Stop blaming yourself. In these things, nobody is at fault for anything. You did what we always told you to do, enjoy life. With Cavaller you had good moments, and that’s still something good. Now it’s time to move on. You have to let go, remember that in life we must release what doesn’t want to stay with us, what causes us pain,” said my wise friend.
“I’m going to forget him,” I affirmed, convinced. “Right now my soul is broken, but someday I’ll reminisce about the story I lived with him, I’ll remember the sensations, what I felt, but there won’t be any pain. As you rightly say, I have to let go, which in this case means nothing more than distancing myself from them, loving what I already have, which is a lot, and being grateful for all the good things that surround me.”
“Like me,” he said, smiling.
“Very true, I couldn’t be more grateful for having you in my life. I don’t want you to worry, I assure you I’m going to be fine, it will take me some time, but I will be.”
“And meanwhile you have me, who is more handsome, younger, and much more charming,” he said, giving me a little nudge with his shoulder against mine and smiling.
I smiled and hugged him.
“And I’m very fortunate to have you.”
“You are,” he affirmed, still smiling, but suddenly he became serious and added, “It’s time to go back, Devon.”
“Are you hungry already?” I asked, smiling.
“I mean going back to Montevideo and resuming our lives,” he affirmed, and I nodded. “When are we leaving?”
“If you want, we can leave early tomorrow. If we travel in the morning, the traffic is lighter.”
“Very well, then tomorrow we return. It was a beautiful and short vacation. Now, let’s go, but to have lunch because I’m famished,” he said, standing up and stretching out his hand for me to take it and pull me up.
And the day to return arrived. As soon as I opened the door to my apartment, the all-too-familiar solitude greeted me, but gloomier than ever, so much so that it made me very aware of it.
After putting away the clothes I had brought and putting some things in the washing machine, I opened the windows to let some air into the apartment and went to see Doña Carmen, my 80-year-old neighbor whom I helped with some things and visited to keep her company a bit.
“Hello, Carmen, how have you been?” I greeted her, giving her a hug.
“I’m fine, child, and you?” she asked, calling me affectionately as she always did. “How was your trip? With all the work you do, you should go away for a whole month to rest in some romantic place,” she affirmed, as we sat down in the comfortable living room armchairs.
“Romantic? Why would you want me to go to a romantic place if I don’t have a partner?” I asked, smiling.
“You don’t? Then who is the man who has been helping me with the shopping these last few days? A very handsome, charming, and polite young man who came by twice to help me and who said he was your friend, but it was clear to me that he’s more than a friend, or at least he intends to be,” she commented, with a mischievous smile, leaving me completely perplexed.
“Whaaaat? I have no idea who that could have been. As always, I told the doormen to help you while I was away. Who did you let in here?” I asked, worried that someone might have pretended to be my friend to steal something from her. “I’m going to ask the doorman,” I said, standing up.
“Sit down, it’s not necessary, dear. The one who came by was Mr. Cavaller, the father of the little girl you were taking care of. He’s a charming man and I hope you don’t let him get away.”
“Whaaaat? What are you talking about? Cavaller?” I asked, completely bewildered.
I didn’t understand anything. How could William have taken care of Carmen when I had never told him about her? And, assuming it was him, why had he done it? I was totally confused and looked at Carmen not knowing what to say.
“Close your mouth or your jaw will hit the floor,” she joked, with her characteristic good humor. “Mr. Cavaller came by the building because he wanted to see you, and it seems that one of the doormen, I don’t know which one because they’re both quite gossipy, though charming I must say, told him what you do for me, and Mr. Cavaller, knowing you weren’t here, kindly offered to help me.” She looked at me and smiled mischievously again. “It’s obvious he didn’t do it for me, although he’s a very nice young man, but this time his intentions were different—to please you and try to get information about your whereabouts, but I didn’t tell him,” she finished with a big smile of satisfaction.
“I still don’t understand,” I said, unable to say anything else. I was in shock.
