That afternoon, his last day of work at the Santa Gracia restaurant had arrived inevitably. As he walked through the cobblestone streets that led him to the place, he felt his heart pounding with unprecedented violence, as if trying to break free from his chest. Sometimes, his breathing became a dense ocean, and an icy knot climbed up his throat. He thought many times about not going, about simply letting the last day be consumed by his previous shift, saving himself the farewell. But in the end, he couldn't do it.
As he changed his uniform, he had to stop more than once to avoid vomiting. His body was betraying him, but his mind clung to the last promise he had made to himself: he had to appear whole. There was no room for cracks, for hesitation. Only happiness and gratitude were allowed.
He crossed the kitchen threshold with a light step, with a rehearsed calm. "Good afternoon," he greeted, trying to make his voice sound like any other day.
Bella smiled at him. "Good afternoon. Happy it's your last day?"
"Of course. I won't have to wash so many dirty dishes anymore."
"You should finish that quickly, because I have some of your favorite potatoes here to peel," she said, pointing to a couple of sacks by her feet, with her usual teasing naturalness.
"Thanks for saving them for me. What better way to end it all than peeling potatoes?"
"Poetic."
"In some strange way, perhaps it is."
Both laughed, like in their best days. The sound of their laughter floated in the air like a distant echo of what they once were, of what they would never be again. Then, they immersed themselves in the routine of work, synchronized as always, as if time granted them that last gift: a peaceful farewell.
But then, Bella left her phone on the work table.
Tomás felt a shiver run down his spine. He didn't look directly at the phone, but he knew it was there, like a lurking shadow. He continued chopping vegetables with the determination of someone who wants to cling to an impossible normality.
"I shouldn't have written to you that day, or that night," Bella said suddenly. Her voice was a thread of poorly contained guilt. "I made a mistake."
Tomás's face twitched for an instant, as if his body reacted before his mind. Then, he managed to tame the tremor, forcing his expression to return to an impossible calm.
"It's okay, there's no need to talk about it," he replied with a smile that felt heavy on his face.
Bella extended a hand to him. A simple gesture, but it hurt like an open wound. "I'm going to miss you."
Tomás swallowed. "And I..." his voice broke for just an instant, but not enough to stop the words that escaped his mouth before he could control them. "Working by your side was..." he closed his eyes for a second, as if by doing so he could avoid the inevitable confession. "It was my peace for the last two years. I won't forget you."
He didn't realize he had lowered his gaze to hold back his tears, but Bella did. And she understood.
Her face twisted in pain. In an almost desperate gesture, she pulled him close and hugged him tightly.
"Someone might come in... Don't make this harder," Tomás whispered, feeling his own body tremble as he buried his face in her shoulder.
"I'm a terrible person," she said, her voice breaking.
"That's not true."
Bella raised Tomás's face and caressed his cheek with her fingertips. "Will you come no matter the time, day, or place?"
"I said so."
"Is it true?"
"It is."
He didn't get to finish speaking when Bella hugged him again, clinging to him as if something would inevitably crumble inside her if she let go. She cried in silence, while he held her with a mixture of resignation and tenderness. He felt her sobs shake his body, and it pained him to know that she could never truly cry as she wanted. Not there. Not with him.
And yet, when the end came, when Tomás punched the time clock for the last time, there was no one around. He left alone, in the same silence with which he had arrived on his first day.
As he walked away from the restaurant, he turned around several times, with a stupid, childish hope that Bella would follow him. That she would look for him like that other time, that she would run after him.
But that didn't happen.
He waited in the same spot as before, in vain.
And when he understood, truly understood, that she wouldn't come, he kept walking. And this time, he didn't look back.