Runaway Bride

“Are you sure?”

I almost want to smash my face against the wall, hit it again and again until my neurons start working again. I stare at Darío. I can’t believe that he is actually blind, that after trying to regain what he lost with the death of his late wife, he is now left in that state for the rest of his life.

My heart and mind cannot believe it.

I cannot give it up so easily.

He cannot give up. I have seen and heard so many miracles. For example, being cured of cancer, a fatal disease. Or diseases like HIV have twenty or thirty years of a healthy life without setbacks through care. Losing your vision is not the same. I know it is not, but it is impossible for me not to consider every option that manifests in my head.

“I think you know the answer to that question very well.” He focuses his eyes on me, but I know he can’t see me. I understand.

I have been unable to move or peel myself away from the hard wood of the bedroom door. His arrival has made my heart beat fast, and memories that have haunted me since the night we spent together have returned.

“I’m sorry, really. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to offend you...”

“You don’t,” he interrupts me, “and you never will. I know you don’t want to offend me, and this situation, I assure you, Tatiana, is something I could never have considered as the beginning of our marriage.”

“Our marriage has never been like ordinary ones,” I gasp without measuring my words.

“Don’t say that. I tried every way to give you a wedding, a ceremony, and a lunch with your family. I tried to make you feel at home when you came here to the castle. I made you...”

“I know everything you did.” I approach him, unsure, and place my hands on his shoulders. He tenses instantly but gradually relaxes. When I see that my hands are no longer a bother or an agony, I give myself the chance to continue. “I know what you did from the first moment, and I understand. I’ll be completely honest with you: I don’t understand why even at this point you’re still saying that you and I...” I stop abruptly.

from getting close to him. It has prevented us from carrying out this alliance in a satisfactory way for both of us, even when inside me, my heart

left and didn’t tell me the truth; you told me you were going away on business. So I had to find out from Donatella.” Listening to her talk on the phone by mistake, I felt so inferior and minimized to infinity. “You didn’t have the confidence, just like when you saw

know how much I regret making this decision and even more to hear you say that. Trust applies to both parties.”

I continue, however, as I’ve been having this pain in my chest for days now that almost keeps me from breathing. “You say you don’t want to get over your... Arianna.” Donatella mentioned the deceased’s name to me days ago. “I understand. I don’t want to take her place. However, the least I deserve from you is respect and trust. For example, for you to tell me something as important as the fact that you’re going to have surgery

it wrong,” he acknowledges. At least he has

me,” I sigh sadly. “You should have told me at the exact

you for a few days. I couldn’t... I couldn’t tell

tears escape. It’s a horrible feeling, and it’s a half-truth what he blurted out because in

of your son, the most precious thing a person can have, and you left him to me.” It’s silly, his earlier excuse. Not knowing me, not trusting me. “But of course, we don’t have that kind

been a little cruel. But, right now, that man in front of me, staring blankly, still looking straight at me, shoulders slumped, and mind dislocated, deserves to be cared for and understood, to receive positivity and good care. Support from his family.

it.” He reaches into his pants pocket; it’s a gesture he makes repeatedly. I wonder if he’s resisting touching me or if he’s

avoid it, his heart feels something for me. That gives me sad and false hopes in a world where I have not asked to be offered a marriage with a stranger who turned out to be someone important to me.

himself: he’s still not over her, and he’s not interested in getting her out of his heart either. I don’t know

know. For me, for Tatiana, it doesn’t make sense that you don’t trust me as a wife, as a person, and not enough to tell

She knows Dante perhaps more than I do. She is a woman. She’s the one who took care of us as children when we

if something happened to you? Did you even think about that?”

I feel like grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and shaking him until he understands what I mean until he understands how false and empty his words

still doesn’t trust me? What kind of world is it that I came to live in? One

be when I was someone’s wife. It’s not what I wished and dreamed of having.