“Did you ever regret marrying him?”
“Not really. We had a good life together. At the beginning of our marriage, he worked as a schoolteacher and at his father’s bookstore on weekends, but that had all changed when his father died and I convinced him to turn the bookstore into a chocolate shop.”
“So, it was your idea.”
I nodded. “He would do anything to please me. How could I ever regret being with someone like that?”
To my chagrin, my eyes filled with tears. I never cried in public. Worse, I was crying in front of Martin, of all people. I wiped my tears with a napkin, looking around to make sure nobody was watching.
“If I hadn’t convinced him to come here,” I said, “he would still be alive.”
“You don’t know that. So many things could’ve gone wrong if you’d stayed in Spain. He could’ve slipped in the tub and injured his head or rolled down some stairs, or he could’ve caught the consumption. You never know what’s going to happen. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t follow your dreams for fear that something bad might happen. You did what was right. You followed your heart, and he could’ve always said no.”
I could tell he wanted to hold my hand, to offer some comfort, but he didn’t make a move. He just stared at me for a long time, and his eyes, expressive and warm, told me he couldn’t have had anything to do with the plot to kill me.
I pressed the palm of my hand against my warm cheek.
“Tell me about your chocolate shop,” he said.
I told him how my grandmother had taught me the chocolate-making process with patience and determination; how I’d improved some of her recipes and made them my own; how I’d decorated the shop and even got a latrine in the back for our customers. From time to time, our hands accidentally touched. I recoiled as if his fingers were flames. As much as I liked his proximity, I had an image, a reputation to maintain. And so did he.
“So what did you do for fun?” he said.
“For fun? What do you mean?”
“What else did you do besides work?”
I was quiet for a moment.
“Well, my work was fun. I did what I loved.”
“Yes, but there’s more to life than work, even if it’s fun, right?”
I folded the napkin with my drawing into a tiny square. “What do you do for fun?”
“Well, you’ve seen my life. I come here, I fish, occasionally I go on long walks, I read.”
I lifted an eyebrow.
“I do.” He flashed a smile—it was disarming.
“And you go out with numerous women.”
He turned serious. “Not really, Puri. I may have exaggerated my amorous conquests some, just to test you, back when I didn’t know if you were—”
“Including those women?” I pointed my chin toward the door, where the prostitutes had just walked through.
“Including those women.”
“What about your family?”
Martin sat back. “We should go. They’re about to close.”
I was starting to think it was no coincidence that Martin always avoided going into details about his past.
*
Martin offered to drop me at the hacienda, but I thought it would be strange for two men to ride a horse together.
“Nobody’s watching,” he said.
It was dark outside and the weather had finally cooled down. I hadn’t realized until I stepped out of the bar how dizzy I was. People often said it was the cold air that got you drunk, not the alcohol. I never believed it—until now.
“No, I’ll go back with my sisters.” My speech was slurred.
“They probably left already. It’s one in the morning.”
I noticed then that the crowd had already dispersed. How unkind of me not to tell my sisters I was leaving the party with Martin.
I hesitated, but climbed on the back of his horse, Melchor, nonetheless. I did my best not to touch Martin, and instead, rested my hands on the horse’s rear, attempting to hold my balance as the animal started to move.
My arms and legs were so stiff they started to get sore. Worse yet, the ride was making me dizzier—I couldn’t go on. Martin said I could stay at his house; he had a spare bedroom I could use. I agreed, mostly because I feared that if I continued on that horse, I would end up retching every piece of food I’d consumed in the last two days. When I climbed off of Melchor, the world spun all around me. Martin helped me into the house, which was quiet and dark.
I nearly tripped on one of the steps and yelped.