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Andrés was late for their dinner. Again. Tatiana stretched her legs and smiled charmingly at the waiter. She would wait for him another five minutes and then she’s ordering the wine. Exactly the one he hates the most. Something white and sweet.
Just when she was about to call for the server, her husband entered restaurant, looking somewhat disheveled. That immediately catch her attention. It’s not like Andrés to look anything but perfectly put together. Tatiana discreetly looked at the street outside, but it didn’t seem like anybody was following him.
“What happened, mi amore? Were you running?” she asked, smiling softly.
“It’s nothing” he answered, cutting edge to his voice.
Now Tatiana started to worry for good. Something was obviously not right.
“Don’t lie, Andrés” she said, sitting straight. “Is everything alright with Martín? You were supposed to talk with him earlier, weren’t you? You still haven’t told me what was that about.”
Andrés was quiet for a moment, staring somewhere behind her, before letting out a small laugh.
“You know, I told him I wasn’t going to think about him, and look at me now, can’t even pay attention to my wife” he said.
Tatiana felt her eyebrows raising. He forced herself to smile.
“Andrés, what are you talking about? Why would you not think about Martín? He’s literally only person you know beside me and your brother, you talk about him every day. Mi cariño, you live with him.”
She wanted to lighten him up, but as it seemed, her comment only made everything worse. Her husband looked at her sharply and slammed the table with his clenched fist. Several patrons send them irritated looks. Anger was now openly painting on his face, changing his handsome features in something very ugly. Tatiana supposed she should be afraid of him in these moments, but she refused to cave.
“Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it?” he said, way louder than it was considered polite. “I live with him, I spend every day with him. He would never gonna be able to move forward if we continued living like this!”
Dread started to creep up her spine. Oh, what this beautiful idiot did?
“What do you mean, mi amore?”
Andrés sighed, visibly deflating.
“I need to think about what’s best for him, Tatiana. You knew what you were signing up for when you first met me, but Martín- He likes me too much, he’s completely dependent at this point. I decided that it was my responsibility to end that now. But mi cariño, I fucked up.”
Listening to Andrés going through the events of the evening was like watching a car crash in slow motion. You expect what can happen, but reality is much worse, but at the same time – you just can't stop looking.
“Andrés, for such a smart man, you’re just incredibly stupid” she interrupted him while he was trying to explain so more how breaking Martín’s heart was his responsibility.
He obviously wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction. At this point, most clients was staring at them. Waiter quickly approached them to pour Tatiana more wine. Good man.
“So please let me recap that: you confessed your undying love to Martín, then let you kiss him, then kissed him so more because he called you a coward, and then claimed you can never see him again because you have this one mitochondria that won’t let you fuck men?”
“Tatiana” he hissed, indignant. “Don’t be crass!”
The couple sitting next to them wasn’t even pretending their not listening. Older lady almost spilled red wine all over herself, looking at them instead of her glass.
“I think I have to be, Andrés, maybe this way you will understand! Love, first of all: I don’t think this isn’t how sexual orientation work” she exclaimed, gesturing with her glass. She might have been a little drunk. “Second of all: what do you think will happen when you die, mi amore? Do you really think that Martín, when he will hear that you died, will be already in good enough place to just move on? Tell me you really are convinced that he won’t think about this last years with you that he was robbed of, and I will drop a subject.”
Andrés wasn’t looking at her anymore. He was sloughing in the chair, his head thrown back and eyes closed. He looked pained and Tatiana felt a rush of satisfaction.
“He wants to melt gold with me” he spoke finally, much quieter. This wasn’t meant for anyone’s else ears. “But my brother is right. It’s a suicidal plan and mi amore- I don’t want him to die.”
Tatiana’s eyes softened.
“I know you don’t. But this isn’t the way to keep him alive. You know this as well as I do, if not better. If you leave him like this, he will just do something stupid. You don’t want to melt gold, don’t do it. But for the love of God, talk to him, explain. Let him have these last years with you, just tell him you’re dying. It will be so much easier on him, if he will have years to say goodbye.”
There were tears in her eyes, threatening to spill, but she forced herself to smile again. She withdrew a hundred euros from her purse, slammed it on the table.
“And now-” she commanded “get the car ready! We need to check up on him, and then you need to talk.”
Andrés blinked, huffed and stood up. The usually mischievous expression was back on his face, when he extended his arm to help her get up.
He kissed her on her cheek and murmured:
“Thank you, love.”