Diego Valcárcel had been kneeling on the cream-colored stone for forty-seven seconds when he realized he’d made a miscalculation. It wasn’t the choice of ring, a sapphire surrounded by small diamonds, nor the terrace of the Serrano mansion, where the heating masked the December chill. He had miscalculated the amount of time Carmen Serrano needed to take over a conversation.
“Will you marry me?” he asked, holding the open case.
—Yes, I do! —Carmen replied from the maroon sofa.
Julian touched her shoulder with two fingers. Valeria, wrapped in a caramel-colored cape, turned to her mother.
—Mom, she’s asking me.
Diego tried to turn the interruption into a funny anecdote. He looked at Valeria, whose smile seemed caught between amusement and the desire to win an argument. She faced him again, chin held high.
—I don’t know how to cook.
—I’ll cook.
—And I spend a fortune.
—I have no shortage of money.
—I’m always right.
—Well, it’ll be done your way.
Julian leaned towards Carmen and whispered with the discretion of someone who had never been discreet.
—If I were a woman, I’d get married myself. With money and obedience, that’s all that matters.
They both laughed. Valeria blew on her red nails, studied the ring, and uttered the words that left Diego speechless.
—Well, I’ll have to think about it.
The stillness lasted longer than any response. Through the windows, Madrid’s balconies lit up. One of the two guests in the background feigned interest in the white roses. Diego remained on one knee. The case seemed to weigh ten kilos.
“You can get up,” Valeria said, puzzled by his silence.
“That hadn’t occurred to me,” he replied.
He didn’t sound angry. Precisely because of that, Valeria felt a pang. Diego closed the case, sat up, and checked that his knee hurt. Julián placed his glass on a side table, ready to save the evening with a joke. Carmen stopped him with a look. For the first time since the proposal began, she realized that his enthusiasm had caused more than just a funny moment.
—Honey, I just wanted to…
“I know, Mom,” Valeria interrupted. “You meant to say yes for me.”
—Because I’m sure he makes you happy.
—Then let me say it.
Diego put the case in the inside pocket of his jacket. He had imagined tears, a hug, and perhaps Carmen’s exaggerated emotion; he hadn’t imagined that he would end up feeling like a salesman who had been asked to leave a quote for later review.
“You don’t need to answer tonight,” he said.
Valeria blinked. She wasn’t used to Diego withdrawing an offer before she’d decided to accept it.
—I didn’t say no either.
-I know.
—Not that I’m angry.
—I didn’t say that either.
He took his coat from the back of a chair. He had promised himself not to turn his statement into a public trial. However, before leaving, he asked a question that none of the Serranos expected.
—¿Tú quieres casarte conmigo o quieres comprobar hasta dónde estoy dispuesto a llegar?
Valeria abrió la boca. El silencio que siguió no fue coqueto. Julián miró a Carmen, y Carmen apartó las manos de la copa que sostenía. Diego permaneció frente a su novia con expresión serena, mientras el cielo, detrás de los cristales, perdía su último azul.
—No es una pregunta justa —murmuró Valeria.
—Quizá no. Pero es la primera que he hecho hoy que importa de verdad.
Cuando Diego salió de la terraza, no dio un portazo. Ese detalle inquietó todavía más a Valeria. Conocía su manera de hablar, su paciencia para esperarla cuando llegaba tarde, sus bromas al preparar café. No conocía al hombre que acababa de irse sin exigir ninguna respuesta. Carmen hizo ademán de seguirlo, pero Julián le tomó suavemente la mano.
—Esta vez conviene que se vayan solos los pensamientos —dijo.
Carmen permaneció junto al sofá con una copa que ya no recordaba haber llenado. El brazo le dolía de sostenerla. No sabía si disculparse por segunda vez o si una disculpa repetida acabaría reclamando absolución. Julián recogió la fuente de aperitivos y la llevó hasta una mesa auxiliar. Los dos habían presenciado discusiones más ruidosas, pero ninguna los había dejado tan desarmados.
—Creía que sería divertido —reconoció Carmen.
—Lo fue durante cuatro segundos —dijo él—. Después empezó a ser otra cosa.
Valeria se acercó al ventanal. El reflejo le devolvía una mujer perfectamente peinada, con uñas brillantes y una expresión desconocida. Le habían enseñado a proyectar seguridad incluso en los días en que deseaba esconderse. No había percibido el momento en que las ocurrencias dejaron de resultar inocentes.
