And just like every day, I come home with Juan, exhausted. I prepare his dinner, bathe him, and put him to sleep. When he is in his deepest sleep, I go to my room, take a shower, cry, thinking about how I will manage from now on, and once again, I feel alone... I turn off the shower, put on my robe, and go to bed with my laptop. I open my email to work on another report, and as always, I come across this:
Doce 12/13/2012
[email protected] MOZAMBIQUE PARTNERSHIPS 12/13/2012
[email protected] REPORT 12/12/2012
[email protected] MAMA PARTNERSHIPS 12/11/2012
[email protected] REPORT 12/10/2012
Doce 12/7/2012
[email protected] MAMA AFRICA 12/6/2012
Doce 11/29/2012
Doce 11/22/2012
[email protected] NGO 11/3/2012
Doce 10/25/2012
Yes, I've never opened any of the weekly emails X sends me. I confess that I'm tempted to open just one every day, but I know I shouldn't. I know what will happen if I do. I open Richard's email that talks about the new partnerships in Mozambique and how he's already leaving for Mali, providing instructions and mentioning that more money has been deposited by the financier for project promotion. I respond to Richard's email.
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FW: MOZAMBIQUE PARTNERSHIPS
From: [email protected]
Sent: Tuesday, December 13, 2012, 10:09:51 PM
To: Richard Wright ([email protected])
relatorioMAMA.doc.
Good evening, Richard,
I'm attaching today's report. I'm very happy to hear that everything is going well in Mozambique, and I hope it continues that way in Mali.
And I also hope to meet our financier soon because my curiosity is killing me.
Best regards,
Dalia Penedo Salazar.
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I send the email and am about to close it when I receive a new message:
[email protected] Meeting with Financier 12/13/2012
[email protected] Doce 10/25/2012
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RE: MEETING WITH FINANCIER
From: Richard Wright ([email protected])
Sent: Tuesday, December 13, 2012, 10:12:43 PM
To: Dalia Penedo Salazar ([email protected])
When do you want to meet him?
Best regards,
Richard Wright.
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Confused, I stare at Richard's email. Out of everything he could have sent, that question was far from my thoughts. I spend some time analyzing it, maybe he's just joking with me, so I'll take it lightly.
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FW: MEETING WITH FINANCIER
From: Dalia Penedo Salazar ([email protected])
Sent: Tuesday, December 13, 2012, 10:17:27 PM
To: Richard Wright ([email protected])
Good evening, Richard,
Before the inauguration, preferably. I want to host a dinner at the headquarters for him with some guests. I want everyone to meet the angel who has been doing all this for us, and for him to see what his investment in our NGO has achieved so far.
Best regards,
Dalia Penedo Salazar.
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I send the email, waiting for Richard's response, which doesn't come immediately. This glimmer of hope he gave me of meeting the man who has helped Mama Africa so much is already making me nervous to the point that I start biting my nails while begging him to send that damn email already. Then, after a few minutes, he sends me a new email.
[email protected] Meeting with Financier 12/13/2012
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FW: MEETING WITH FINANCIER
From: Richard Wright ([email protected])
Sent: Tuesday, December 13, 2012, 10:29:32 PM
To: Dalia Penedo Salazar ([email protected])
Good evening, Dalia,
I talked to him, and his only requirement is for it to be a simple lunch since he will be in Barcelona only for business matters, and his schedule will be quite tight.
December 20th, at noon at Uma.
Agreed?
Best regards,
Richard Wright.
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FW: MEETING WITH FINANCIER
From: Dalia Penedo Salazar ([email protected])
Sent: Tuesday, December 13, 2012, 10:32:21 PM
To: Richard Wright ([email protected])
Good evening, Richard,
Agreed.
Best regards,
Dalia Penedo Salazar.
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I send the email, unable to contain my happiness that I will finally get to meet him. Then I receive a new message:
PLEASE READ. 12/13/2012
The subject, different from the "Doce" emails I received, finally makes me decide to open an email from him. Maybe something really bad has happened, and he needs me.
Then I hear the living room door open, the key being placed on the sideboard, heavy footsteps, and the suitcase being thrown on the living room floor: Carlos has finally returned. I leave my computer in the room and go to the living room, where I find my husband standing, adjusting a golden package. As soon as he sees me, he lifts the gift awkwardly. I cross my arms, refusing the gift. Is it possible that he thinks I would actually accept that gift as if nothing had happened? It was me who spent a week without sleep with Juan having a fever because of him. It was me who had to manage everything to make sure everything went well while he was in Lisbon, pretending we didn't exist. Okay, I turned off all his calls, but he hadn't even made an effort to come back.
"I know I owe you an explanation about what's been happening at the company," Carlos begins. He places the gift on the couch and approaches me, forcing me to take a step back. "Dalia, don't be like this."
"Don't be like this? How is it possible after everything we talked about, you decided to stay away from your family? Do you remember what you promised me? We would never be far apart from each other. And once again, you didn't keep your promise. It was just supposed to be 10 days, but it turned into a month, and you didn't even manage to take a weekend to explain yourself. You know, I was actually starting to believe in you, but I feel like we're no longer a priority in your life."
"Dalia, when you asked for support regarding the NGO, I supported you. What's wrong with you supporting me too?" Carlos questions, getting nervous.
"And I do support you, so much so that you went. I've supported you all this time. The problem is that you didn't even try to come during these two weeks. Carlos, two hours of flying to spend the weekend with your family won't hurt and won't make any company go bankrupt."
"They are inflexible, and the idea is to get the project done as soon as possible," Carlos explains.
"And you, being the obedient little dog that you are, obeyed everything they said," I snap. I clap my hands and say, "Congratulations, Carlos, we're back to square one."
"What do you want me to do?" Carlos asks.
"I don't have to tell you what to do, you have to know what you want. I don't want you to accuse me in the future of clipping your wings. You have to figure out what you really want because I won't be a married widow," I say. I point towards the hallway and continue, "Don't forget that now it's not just the two of us, you have a son who adores you and suffers from your absence."
"I'm doing this for him too," Carlos says. "I know that one day he will understand."
"Maybe when that day comes, it will be too late for you. You will never be satisfied with your professional life, and we both know it," I reply.
"Dalia, I don't want us to be like this. I'll have to go back there tomorrow, and I don't want to leave on bad terms with you."
"Prepare the guest room, tonight I really prefer to sleep alone," I walk towards the bedroom. "Have a good trip to Lisbon."
I enter my room and go to our pictures, tearing them all off the wall and throwing them on the floor. The only thing I feel is anger. I lie on my bed, and a thought arises: This is our end.