But Manuel and I knew something that no one else seemed to understand.
At this age, we weren’t looking for money, property, or a spectacular wedding.
We just wanted someone who, at the end of the day, would ask:
— Are you feeling well today?
After many tears, discussions, and doubts, we finally made the decision.
We got married.
No big party.
No music or fancy guests.
Just a simple meal with some close friends.
I wore a dark red dress. Manuel wore an old suit, but it was perfectly ironed.
Some people congratulated us.
Others shook their heads in disapproval.
I listened to everyone… but I wasn’t twenty anymore, living according to what other people thought.
The wedding night arrived.
Even saying those words made me smile sheepishly.
The room was clean, with fresh sheets. I sat on the edge of the bed, feeling my heart pounding, as if I were a young woman again.
I was nervous.
A little embarrassed.
A little excited.
Manuel entered the room and gently closed the door behind him.
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.
The yellow lamp on the bedside table cast a warm light in the room. Outside, the night breeze gently stirred the white curtains. In the distance, I could hear the sound of a car passing along the quiet street.
I was still sitting on the edge of the bed, with my hands clasped in my lap, feeling my heart beating hard.
It was strange.
At sixty years old… and yet I felt like a twenty-year-old girl, nervous, clumsy, not knowing what to do with my hands.
Manuel approached slowly.
His steps were calm, but his face also showed a mixture of shyness and excitement.
“Are you nervous?” he asked with a small smile.
I let out a soft laugh.
— A little… and you?
He scratched the back of his neck, like he used to do when he was young.
— A lot.
We both laughed.
That laughter broke the tension of the moment.
Manuel sat down next to me on the bed. I could feel the warmth of his body close to mine. For a moment, neither of us said anything. We were just there, sharing the silence.
Then, with an almost trembling tenderness, he raised his hand and gently touched my cheek.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment,” he whispered.
I felt my eyes getting wet.
Thirty, forty years… and still, that man looked at me as if I were the most important woman in the world.
Manuel leaned over and gave me a soft kiss on the forehead.
Then, very carefully, he began to undo the buttons of my dress.