“Skeins,” murmured her friend.
“Skeins?”
“Yes, that’s right. Like we used to help our mothers or grandmothers unravel as children. Of course it’s not easy to know what one feels, Prudencia, especially when the feelings are intense, if not contradictory. Human nature is complex.”
Prudencia accepted another piece of cheese.
“In a way,” she confessed, “I think I’m angry with him.”
“That’s quite normal,” replied her friend. “Pride is one of the big tangles in the skein.”
“I’m not proud,” she protested, discomfited at being compared to a tangle of wool.
“Of course you’re not, my dear. But what about self-esteem?”
She weighed the question.
“Possibly,” she admitted.
Horacio smiled to himself and started paring the rind from the cheese.
“Let’s call it self-esteem, then. You felt rejected and, quite understandably, it was painful. Though, unless I’m much mistaken, you weren’t actually rejected, were you?”
“That’s true,” she said, momentarily encouraged.
“But, even so, you’re sure he doesn’t have feelings for you, are you?”
Again, she reflected before replying. Outside, through the windows, a low gray sky hung over the village.
“I can’t say with absolute certainty,” she sighed. “But I can say that even if those feelings exist, he’d never allow them to become anything deeper. I’ve found out that there’s a much more powerful reason for it than I could have imagined. A reason so powerful that it’s not just something that is related to him, but is a part of his very being. Do you see? He may feel attracted to me, Horacio, or he may not. But even if he did, he wouldn’t let it go any further. And he’d probably be right, because it might not work.”
“Reason and will,” murmured her friend. “You can’t understand that, can you? You’re all emotion.”
Miss Prim shifted in her armchair. She didn’t want to talk about reason and emotion, she didn’t wish to be accused of sentimentality again, and she definitely didn’t intend to embark on another long and tedious discussion of the matter.
As if he’d guessed what she was thinking, Horacio asked: “Have you ever wondered what would have happened if things had turned out as you’d hoped? If he had fallen in love with you?”
She admitted that she hadn’t given it much thought.
“You’d probably have embarked on a relationship that would have ended in marriage much sooner than you expected.”
Miss Prim half closed her eyes, determined to picture such a scene.
“And...?” she asked, seemingly pleased with what she’d glimpsed.
“And? My dear Prudencia, marrying a man like him would mean beingradicallymarried.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean beingtrulymarried, marriedtill death do you part. Divorce would not be an option, my dear; that’s what I mean.”
Absently, she took another sip of wine. She’d always found the thought of being loved until death rather moving, but also deeply troubling and, to be honest, it made her feel a little dizzy.
“Fine,” she said guardedly, “divorce would be out of the question, for him. But if it didn’t go well, nothing would prevent my divorcing him, would it?”
“True,” said her friend. “It wouldn’t. But you’re an honest person. Would you think it right to enter into such a marriage knowing that you weren’t as fully and utterly committed to it as he was? Wouldn’t you feel bad knowing that there was this difference between you? Would you be able to look him in the eye knowing that if the marriage hit the rocks, you’d jump ship while he would stay on deck?”
Miss Prim, who’d never contemplated such a possibility, had to admit that she would indeed feel bad.
