Chapter 42: Yellow Nails

How fascinating! - I looked at her surprised. Dr. Pulido raised an eyebrow and smiled with her thin lips in a gesture of satisfaction.

When I was little, my mom didn't like taking me to fashion shows. She was uncomfortable with the idea of me seeing other women's bodies… I think she already suspected…

Suspected your tendency towards bisexuality - She interrupted me, finishing my sentence.

I'm not bisexual, I'm actually a lesbian - I admitted.

I think your bisexuality is very apparent, but perhaps with time, you'll see things my way - She said proudly. Her eyes sparkled. I smiled as I listened to her.

I know that experiences and time reveal new facets of ourselves, but I am sure of my sexual orientation, and I highly doubt it will change over time. I also write, I've discovered that I really enjoy writing - I said after a deep sigh.

You write? - The doctor penetrated me with her unsettling and incisive eyes, filled with wisdom.

Yes, it's something I usually do when I want to calm down… - I added, making a dismissive gesture with my hand - I write.

That could serve as therapy for you. As I was saying, whether you're with your friends, or in surgery with an animal. At some point, you'll think of Paola, and when that happens, I want you to be happy, very happy - The doctor looked at me intently, as if she expected me to interrupt her at some point.

I think about her every day - I confessed, embarrassed - Many times… when I do things or when I'm very happy, I also think of her.

Give me an example - She asked me.

I sighed resignedly.

Ummm, for example… last week, a badly injured puppy came to me because of a porcupine. The surgery took two hours, and I removed around 200 quills. I was really worried that the quills had penetrated some internal tissue. I had to act quickly, and the animal was in no condition to be moved and have an X-ray taken. So, I operated without a previous X-ray, it was a blind surgery. It was a challenge to remove all those quills. Phew! My assistant, Mia, helped me. While we were stitching up his eyelid, she held the tweezers to prevent bleeding. When the surgery was over, the puppy was out of danger, and I was very happy with the result. I imagined Paola's face, her smile, her words, I don't know… what she would have said. I was happy, and I thought of her.

I see… Did you share what happened with Melisa afterward?

Yes, I stayed at her house that night.

And did you feel happy sharing it with her?

Yes, of course - I pondered - Mel always listens to me… she's very sweet - I smiled, remembering Melisa caressing me as she cuddled me in her arms - I told her, but I still felt like I wanted to share it with Paola.

Fashion is an authentic expression of an artist's freedom. When I was an intern, I worked for the fashion house DIOR in Paris. It's a very disciplined and methodical world.

I hope you can understand when she enters, and locks the door behind herself - she said coldly when I turned my back and focused on serving her another drink. This time when I reached out my arm, I didn't even dare to breathe near her. I wanted to feel her for the rest of time, but I couldn't be with her. Paola reached out her hand and pressed my wrist again. Then she leaned over the counter with that sensual air that I knew so well in her, and with her free hand she caressed my cheeks. I couldn't think anymore, my mind was blank. My heart raced and the voice of the doctor told me it was time to return. But I wanted to stay there, kiss her hand, and lose myself in her whiskey and mahogany and citrus perfume. I wanted to kiss her so much and live a thousand years with her. I closed my eyes, wishing that she would kiss me, but nothing happened. I looked at her again and was surprised by the way she squinted her eyes, searching for mine. She could practically read my mind, but she didn't kiss me. Both of us stared at each other without saying a word. Paola didn't let go of my wrist, and I kept it around the glass of whiskey. She marked me with a bracelet of bright stones against my skin with her slender fingers. I was afraid to let her go, I didn't know why that scene was really important. What had happened between us? Then I found myself back in the light and I climbed the stairs. I didn't tell the doctor that I was sure I had seen Paola in the last regression. I didn't want her to take away that feeling I had when she squeezed my hand. I wanted that memory to be mine alone. That tingling sensation, so familiar, the caresses between two stars. My body still burns when I remember her, and inexplicably I lose strength when I see her sitting there in that bar, decorated as if it were the set of Midnight in Paris or The Great Gatsby. Sometimes I close my eyes and imagine going back, being able to kiss her, and for some reason everything is perfect when that happens, as if she was expecting me to kiss her. She no longer holds me tightly, but rather with complicity. My legs no longer tremble, instead I look at her with confidence and kiss her. I never knew who we were in that past life, I only know that I was a bartender. Maybe the bartender's wife? And she would order another drink and love me like that, even if she was married, with my feelings towards her filled with fragility.

You must know that when you don't cure yourself of melancholy, love avoids connection in this way, and you can put your self in a critical state, Anastasia. We know that you have strong feelings of pain from past lives, and that makes your energy stronger. When you finally let go of the love you feel for Paola, which is now trapped inside you, you will be able to reason about your emotions.