When I look at his tall, fit frame, I see a young Adonis. His youthful face was classically strong and handsome, his hair a messy mop top of perfection. Pieced together, he looked like something off the silver screen. And his compassion and humility were the coup de grace. Many men such as him are often egotistical pricks, thinking they are God’s gift to women. It is almost as if he is unaware of his own beauty, which just made him all the more endearing.
Marco and I had been regularly going to the gym together, enjoying the walk there and back, just freely talking and sharing. That week, though, I was withdrawn around him, and Marco immediately noticed my change in demeanor.
“Is something wrong, Irene? You seem like something is bothering you,” he asked, his voice betraying his concern.
“No, I am just stressed at work. I’m sorry.”
“I am sorry to hear that. If there is anything I can do, you can share in me. It pains me to see you sad,” Marco told me.
His words melted my heart. His concern was genuine. I was vulnerable, and I started to tear up.
“Thank you. It’s all so silly, really.”
“Irene, come here.” Marco took me into his arms right there in the busy streets of Barcelona. Passerby’s gave us strange stares to see me breaking down in the street. But I melted into the warmth of his embrace and buried my head in his chest. His strong arms were comforting, and, for a brief moment, whatever doubts I felt were assuaged. I felt safe, even though I knew that feeling would dissipate as soon as his arms released me.
“Maybe no gym today. How about we go to a café instead and just talk?” Marco asked.
I slowly wiped the tears from my eyes. “I’d like that.”
We made our way to a café down the street.
“Tell me, really, what is going on?” he insisted to know.
“I don’t know how to say this. I am a married woman, but I feel very close to you.”
“Irene, you are a very beautiful, special person. It pains me to see you hurting. It is alright, you can tell me anything,” he reassured me.
My heart leapt at his characterization of me as beautiful. And yet, I felt scared to fully reveal my true emotions to him. To reveal that I was attracted to him. What if he rejected me? What if I scared him away? Or what if it was a mutual attraction? Is that truly what I wanted? The possibility, much as it intrigued me, also terrified me.
“I have to tell you. It’s quite flattering to hear someone such as yourself call me beautiful,” I said as I brushed my wavy light reddish/ brown hair out of my face.
“But it is true. I mean every word.”
I took a deep breath. “I don’t know how to say this, Marco, but ever since you moved into our building, I have been very enamored by you. You are a very charming young man. I know it is silly. I’m just a silly, old woman.”
“Stop it, you are not a silly old woman,” he said, rejecting my assertion.
“It’s ok. You don’t have to be polite. It is probably better if you just tell me the truth. I understand. I am a married mother. I cannot be with you. Besides, you would be insane to want an old woman such as myself. I am almost 30 years older than you. You are young and handsome. You can have your pick of the beautiful, young ladies in this city.”
Marco sat back in his chair, but his eyes remained fixed on me. He inhaled a deep breath in and then let out a deep sigh, clearly choosing his words carefully. I prepared myself for the rejection.
“I don’t want to be a home wrecker. After you and your husband have been so good to me. What would your husband think?” Marco finally spoke.
My eyes became watery, and again I wiped away the tears. “Actually, he can tell that we have an attraction. He has encouraged me to follow my passion.”
Marco’s eyes changed to confusion. “I don’t understand. Why would he do that?”
“I’m not sure why. But does that matter? I mean, what are we to be?”
Marco reached across the small table and took my trembling hands into his. My shaking instantly stopped at the touch of his warm hands.
“You are a beautiful woman. I would be lying if I said I am not incredibly attracted to you.” Marco admitted.
“But -?”
“There is no but,” Marco said, interrupting my reply. “You are incredibly, sexy, intelligent, kind, and attractive. And not to mention, an outstanding cook. What else would I seek in a woman?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, the words coming from Marco’s mouth. Looking into his eyes, I saw his sincerity. I was elated… and frightened. Impulsively, I stood up, leaned across the table, and planted a kiss on his lips. And he kissed me back. His hand reached to the back of my head, and our tongues danced as we sat at that small table in front of the café.
After we finally broke the kiss, we both sat back in our seats, taking in the moment.
“And what now?” I finally asked. Cars and buses passed in a never-ending stream, people passed by in conversation with their mates or on their phones, and the unceasing bustle of Barcelona hummed, yet, it was as if Marco and I had entered our own private world. The city no longer existed. All I heard was a silence hanging between Marco and myself that felt like an eternity as my question hung over us.
“What is it you want, Irene?” Marco asked, finally breaking the silence.
My heart was racing, and my body started shaking again. “I cannot leave my family. But, if you are to want me, I do not think I am strong enough to tell you no.”
“I’d be lying if I say I do not want you,” Marco admitted. “Even if it is just for once. But are you really sure about this?”
I slowly nodded my head.
“I don’t want you to make an impulsive decision,” Marco continued. “Our normal hour at the gym is almost expired, anyway. We can head back soon. Maybe tomorrow, you can come to my door at our normal time to go to gym. If you want, we go to gym. Or if you want, we stay in my apartment. But I will respect your decision. Whatever you decide, I will respect your wishes, but think on it. Think of what you want. I do not want you to regret.”
I stood dumbfounded, disbelieving Marco’s words. My mind was a jumble of emotions, and I couldn’t make sense of any of them. On one hand, I was elated, but, on the other, I knew I was risking 15 years of marriage. For what? Was it love I felt? If I were to be with Marco, I knew the odds of regret were high. Then again, if I didn’t, perhaps the odds of regret were even higher. Maybe it was a no-win situation.
We got up to leave, but we walked in silence back to our apartment building; the enormity of the decision I was to make clearly weighing on both of our minds.
******
“You are abnormally quiet. Did something happen?” Oscar said we prepared for bed that night.
I replied softly, my voice barely more than a whisper. “The other night, you said I should test Marco and see if there is an attraction there.”
“Aye. I did.”
“You don’t think you’d regret saying that to me?” I asked my husband.
“Like I said, Irene, the heart wants what the heart wants. I know you well enough, better than anyone else. I can see it in your eyes. You have a thing for him.”
“And what if Marco has a thing for me, as well?”