Page 156 of My Husband’s New Fiancée

She smiles bravely, but her lips tremble, and a crushing weight settles in my chest.

Her pain echoes my own.

I think about the life we were supposed to have.

Between the moment she disappeared and the day she came back, an entire future slipped away.

And neither of us will ever get those years back.

We don’t linger there long.

Back in our room, I undress slowly without taking my eyes off her. She watches me hungrily. Then she begins undressing too—and suddenly, a reckless idea crosses my mind.

Instead of waiting for her, I turn on the shower and step beneath the spray. Water cascades over me from head to toe. She watches me. She knows I won’t force anything. I soap myself slowly without ever looking away from her, not neglecting a single inch of skin. Her lips part. Her breathing quickens.

Time stretches.

I almost give up—right as she takes a step forward.

Then another.

And another.

My pulse kicks hard. My hands shake despite the heat of the water.

Droplets begin splashing against her face, but her eyes never leave mine. Slowly rising onto her toes, she places her palms against my chest and brings her mouth to mine.

A tear slides down my cheek as our breaths mingle beneath the water.

*

The first few days pass in an almost unreal softness. Every day, she ventures a little farther into the clear turquoise water. First up to her knees, then her waist. By the third day, she swims—hesitantly, but she swims.

Watching her swim toward me feels absurdly emotional. I’ve never been prouder of her.

That night, lying in bed after making love, I finally ask the question I’ve been holding back for days.

“What was the hardest part for you?”

She curls against me. I regret asking immediately. The room falls quiet for a long time.

Then:

“The pain was unbearable sometimes… there were days I even thought…”

She doesn’t finish the sentence. She doesn’t need to. My arms tighten around her.

“Is it less intense now?”

My voice comes out rough, almost unrecognizable.

“Yes. The episodes are farther apart now. The pain is much more manageable, and I’m getting better at anticipating them.”

“I’m sorry, Valeria. I should’ve kept looking for you. I should’ve been there.”

She presses two fingers gently against my lips.

“No. Don’t let guilt consume you. I’m here now. What matters is what we build together from this point on.”