Page 3 of We Shouldn’t Do This Again

“Do you feel like going?” she asks softly. “We could check the dates, see if they work with the schedule. I don’t know.”

I look at her for a moment, and the idea of spending a few weeks in the Maldives begins to take shape in my mind. Then I think about work, about the matches ahead of us, about the season that’s about to end, and about other things—about us, about the balance we’ve built together.

“I don’t know,” I reply honestly with a shrug. “I guess I’d need some time to think it over.”

She nods without pushing the issue, respecting my pace as always, and stands in front of me with a mischievous smile lighting up her whole face.

“Well,” she says, resting her hands on my shoulders. “How about we take a quick shower and make something to eat? I’m starving, and my stomach’s already growling.”

I look at her and can’t help laughing wholeheartedly.

“I haven’t heard it yet…” I add playfully, wrapping my arms around her waist and setting the wedding topic aside to focus solely on her.

“There’s not much time left,” she corrects me teasingly. “If I don’t eat soon, I’ll start making bad decisions, and you’ll be the first to suffer the consequences.”

“What do you mean? Come on, explain,” I ask, playing along.

“Like… picking one of those dramatic movies that makes you question your entire life,” she replies with a laugh.

“That would be a complete disaster,” I admit, pretending to be horrified.

Ingrid steps a little closer and wraps her arms around my neck naturally, as if that’s exactly where they belong. Her perfume, soft and clean, surrounds me for a second and makes me close my eyes briefly, enjoying the feeling of having her so close.

“Then you’d better feed me well,” she whispers with a smile brushing against my lips. “Because I’m capable of anything when I’m hungry.”

“I know something you really like…”

“What are you waiting for?” she replies before kissing me.

The kiss is brief, warm, familiar—one of those kisses that becomes part of everyday life and still feels like home and peace. Her lips find mine, and for a moment the world shrinks down to just the two of us, the touch of her skin, and the shared rhythm of our hearts.

When she pulls away, she looks at me with shining eyes.

“Come on, let’s go,” she says, gently tugging my hand toward the hallway. “I promise to behave and pick a movie that’s actually worth watching.”

I follow her with a small smile, leaving the mail on the living room table. The wedding invitation remains there among the bills, and for a moment, before turning off the living room light, my gaze falls on it one last time.

“Maldives,” I repeat to myself.

Then Ingrid pulls me along, and the bathroom door closes behind us. The world stays outside, with its invitations and sudden surprises, while we sink into that bubble created by the steam from the hot water, the laughter, and the certainty that no matter what happens, we have each other.

CHAPTER 2

THE CALL FROM PARADISE

Lidia

The bell that signals the end of classes at school has always felt liberating to me. The children rush down the hallway in a crowd bursting with boundless energy. They laugh with that pure joy only they possess and drag their backpacks along, while I remain seated in my chair for a few minutes, organizing the folders on my desk and slowly putting them into my briefcase.

There are days when that raucous noise reminds me of how exhausted I am. Today, however, I find it comforting, a gentle balm that wraps around my soul. Perhaps it’s because the day has passed quietly and without incident. Or maybe because the sun filtering through the classroom windows already has that warm hue so characteristic of the Valencian spring. The time of year my mother loved so much.

She used to say that Valencia, in these months leading up to summer, was magical. And it was for me back then. Even though the city remains the same.

“Do you want to meet up for coffee this afternoon?” Marta, one of my best friends and a colleague, asks me from the doorway as she adjusts her bag on her shoulder.

I look up and shake my head with a slight apologetic grimace.

“It’s impossible today,” I reply frankly. “I have to get a few things done before the end of the school year, because otherwise, in June I’ll end up spending more time here than at home, and I can’t afford that.”