Lina closed the door behind her without sparing Albert a single glance. She gently brushed her light dress, as if shaking off invisible dust, and then placed the bouquet in a vase in the hallway.
Lina stopped. It reached him. She turned, and a hint of softness appeared in her face—barely noticeable, but real.
“Alberto… you didn’t lose me because I didn’t go to plant tomatoes. Maybe you lost me in those moments when I was sitting next to you… and you didn’t see me.”
He squeezed his eyes shut.
“Tell me straight,” he asked. “Is this the end?”
Lina took a deep breath.
“No. This isn’t over. This is the first time I’m choosing myself. And it will be that way if we’re meant to be together. I need a partner, not a commander. Not your mother. Not your rituals. You.”
Alberto took a step toward her—cautiously, as if any closer approach might be a mistake.
“Stay… and teach me how to do this. Please.”
Her eyebrow twitched in slight surprise. The request was like a crack in a thick wall.
“I went,” she began quietly, “to a small perfume-making workshop. I spent hours there learning how scents blend. What freedom smells like. I bought that dress without even thinking about whether anyone would like it. I ate dinner alone in an elegant restaurant. I talked to strangers, I laughed. I felt… alive. I want to feel that way with you too.”
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