The two walk a few meters away, to the edge where the grapevine casts dancing shadows on the ground.
“Why have you been glued to your phone all day?” Martina asks. “These days were supposed to be about unplugging. About spending time with family.”
Julia exhales slowly and crosses her arms over her chest.
“I’ve told you before… not all of us can afford to disappear for a couple of days. There are things that deserve our attention.”
“Things?” Martina repeats. “Or people?”
Julia looks at her in silence for a few seconds. There’s something new in her eyes, a shadow Martina hadn’t seen before.
“Don’t be silly, please. What’s that supposed to mean now?” Julia asks her.
“It’s been going on for weeks now. Late-night calls, texts you reply to when you think I won’t notice, excuses that sound more and more like excuses.”
Martina doesn’t even know how she can be holding that against her after what she herself has done.
Her wife runs a hand through her hair, a nervous gesture Martina has rarely seen her make.
“It’s not what you think,” she replies. “It’s someone important who’s going to have a big impact on my next interview.”
Martina watches her in silence, and the air between them crackles.
“Well, you weren’t so concerned about these things before.”
Julia shrugs, a small, almost defeated gesture.
“Things change, Martina. We both have.”
“Of course.”
At that moment, a high-pitched voice cuts through the air.
“Aunt Martinaaaa!”
Clara comes running, her braids bouncing on her back, her eyes wide with excitement.
“You have to come see the nest we found! It’s in the big willow tree! There are tons of eggs!”
The girl grabs her hand with both of hers and pulls hard.
Martina holds Julia’s gaze for one more second. She sees the weariness and the distance in them. She also sees a flash of guilt that pierces her chest like a knife.
Then she exhales with a slight pause.
“I’ll be right there.”
She lets the little girl lead her, and as they walk toward the willow tree, with Clara chattering nonstop at her side—“They’reso tiny! They look like drops of sky!”—a cold, clear certainty settles in her chest: her marriage to Julia is more than over. And Martina no longer wants to make the effort to fix it.
Because on the other side of the landing, a few steps away and an eternity’s distance, Rebeca breathes the same air as she does. And every time she remembers it, her body burns in a way she doesn’t know how to extinguish.
Chapter 14
The streetlights illuminate the streets with a warm glow that reflects off the pavement, slightly damp from the drizzle that fell during the afternoon, and the constant murmur of the city—cars passing by, conversations on the terraces, the clinking of glasses—creates a lively, electric atmosphere that she’s beginning to like far too much, despite how little time she’s spent in Santander.
Rebeca Noriega walks alongside Ariadna down one of the downtown streets, near the Río de la Pila area, where the nightlife begins to gather as the night progresses. The cold air caresses her bare neck and makes her skin prickle slightly, but she still feels comfortable, almost in control of herself. She has decided to dress up a little more than usual, as if this night were a small declaration of intent to herself: that she can go out again, breathe, exist outside the memory that burns in her mind.
She’s wearing straight-leg black pants, slightly fitted, that flatter her figure without being too tight, paired with a dark green silk blouse that falls softly over her shoulders and hints at the delicate line of her collarbone. Over that, a short leather jacket that gives her that casual touch Rebeca loves so much. Her hair is worn loose, with natural waves that frame her face, and she’s wearing barely any makeup beyond subtle eyeliner and a warm shade on her lips that, in truth, suits her better than any other color.
