Excepcionalmente hoy voy a publicar dos relatos, para celebrar… Algo, supongo. En cualquier caso el relato extra está en inglés.
“You just got yourself a deal!”
“Are you even listening to me?”she asked me that morning, struggling to be heard over the deafening roar of my loudspeakers
“Excuse me?”I muttered, trying to be nonchalant.
My fiancée knew I did it just to tease her, all that pretending to not listen at all to her wedding plans. It didn’t make her any happier, though. Can’t really blame her. Right?
“I asked you”she repeated”if you like these glasses for the buffet”she gestured towards a model”or these?”
That second time she pointed to the same model, only a little taller. Here came my first mistake.
“Aren’t they the same?”
Mistake “número dos”:
“Like, does it really matter? People will enjoy our wonderful ceremony and get on with their lives, won’t they?”
She went out of the room, slamming the door as hard as she could. After picking up the painting that had fallen I went out of the house, a neat two-story building, in the center of the “Elysium” urbanization. A few minutes worth of walk later I was standing in her favorite flower-shop.
I picked a bouquet composed of two lilies, two roses, two acacias and two celsias. The first letters of the names spelled her name, which was something she usually liked.
I wondered if I should go back immediately or just take a short walk. I felt it would be wiser to let her chill out a little. I pulled out a pack of smokes out of my pocket and lit one. An old woman looked at me in a weird way, but it couldn’t be helped, very few people fell anymore to this vice. I was one of those few people who just did not care.
As I was finishing my second death-stick I ran into some clients of mine, so I HAD to have a couple of drinks with them. A couple beers later I was on my way again, but, as I was about to go into the house I realised I had forgotten the bouquet at the bar. I dashed back and, half an hour later, I was back home, bouquet in hand.
“Laura!” I shouted “I’m home! Where are you sweetheart?”
I went into the room and I found her there. She wasn’t angry anymore (at least I couldn’t TELL she was angry at me) we had quite a long talk about how I was behaving lately and then we went to bed.
When I got up Laura wasn’t there, nor the bouquet she had left on the night stand. There was, however, a note addressed to me. It read like this:
These last few months leading to our wedding have been very stressful for me and you haven’t been of much help. I fear you might not be ready to marry me so, before anything horrible happens, I’m leaving you for a couple of weeks to cool off. I will let you see me again when I’m sure you are ready to commit.
The first thing I thought was “At least the bouquet wasn’t a mistake”