I sat sipping tea with my mother and Sophie, my mind wandering as I thought about that stranger. I kept asking myself: *Is he thinking about me now, the way I'm thinking about him?* Surely, yes, since my mind is entirely occupied with him. Despite the hunger I felt, I didn't reach for the piece of toasted bread in front of me, which puzzled my mother.
I heard her say to me:
- *Maria, it's not like you to not eat. Are you sick? What's going on, my daughter?*
I tried to brush it off and ignore what I was going through:
- *Nothing, Mama. Just tired from the hard work this week.*
She responded:
- *But you're used to it, my daughter. Alright then, just don't go to bed before you take a hot bath to restore your energy.*
I reassured her, saying:
- *Okay, Mama. I'll do that right away. Who else do I have to listen to but you?*
I ate a little, kissed my mother and Sophie, wishing them a good night before heading to my room. I threw myself onto the bed, imagining the features of that stranger and the spark that emanated from his eyes, a spark that struck me like an arrow, penetrating deep into my heart.
I had fallen for a stranger, someone I knew nothing about. And I, who everyone knew as strong-willed and not someone who falls in love easily, had finally fallen—unfortunately, in love with a stranger.
I took my father's guitar from the cupboard and began to play his favorite tune, hoping to forget the events of that special day. But it had no effect. In fact, it only made my thoughts wander further. So, I put the guitar back in its place, holding a picture of my father in my hands, silently asking him to support me in every step I take.
When the weight of my thoughts became unbearable, I took a towel and went into the bathroom, filling the tub with warm water and soap, hoping to immerse myself in it, along with my thoughts, without returning. I wanted to be free again—carefree, with nothing on my mind but my father, mother, work, and my dresses. But someone had entered, uninvited, and knocked on the door of my thoughts, taking up space there—perhaps all of it.
I stayed in the water for a long time until I heard knocking on the door. I came out, wrapping my body in the towel. It was Sophie, coming to check on me. I got dressed in my night clothes, while Sophie took the hairdryer and began drying and combing my hair, gently asking, as usual:
- *What's going on with you today? You left in the morning, as usual, full of energy, only to return in the evening so different.*
I tried to pretend everything was fine:
- *Nothing, Auntie. Just work problems and all the paperwork piling up.*
But Sophie replied:
- *Don't try to lie to your aunt, my dear. I know you well. I raised you, took you in my arms when you were little. I hope you're not hiding something from me.*
I lowered my head, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and my tongue stumbled, so much so that the words were stuck inside me. I wondered whether I should tell her now or not. Perhaps I would never see him again, so there was no need to trouble her.
Sophie took me in her arms, just like when I was little, and said:
- *Don't worry, my dear. Go to bed in peace tonight and rest. Tomorrow, if you want, tell me everything. I'll always be by your side. Together, we'll find a solution to every problem that comes your way.*
I smiled and replied:
- *Of course, Auntie. But today I'm so exhausted; sleep has overtaken me.*
Sophie began telling me the story of Cinderella as I listened intently, and she gently combed my hair until I felt sleepy.
She kissed my forehead before turning off the light and closing the door behind her, wishing me sweet dreams. That night, I slept peacefully, so tired from overthinking that I didn't even notice the phone ringing. Oh my God! I almost overslept for work, had it not been for Sophie waking me up.
I jumped out of bed, ready for another day, hoping that I would return to my former self.
I had my breakfast as usual, kissed my mother and Sophie, then rushed to work, trying to erase all the thoughts clouding my mind. But the image of the stranger wouldn't leave me alone. It followed me everywhere, at every moment.
As soon as I arrived, I greeted my colleagues, put my bag aside, and hung my jacket on the coat rack. Then I went to the balcony to open the window, which overlooked a street lined with clothing stores and some cafés. Whenever I felt tired from work, I would look out at the passersby, each one heading to their destination, chasing their livelihood, while time chased them.
And then, my shock was immense when I saw the stranger sitting in a café directly across from the company where I worked. His eyes were fixed on the balcony. I stepped back, sitting on the chair, stunned by the surprise. How did he know where I worked? He must be watching me, following my every move.