Tomás left his potato task and went to the warehouse to empty the van parked at the back of the restaurant. It was his last chore of the day before finishing helping Bella with the next day's preparations and cleaning the place for closing.
As he went out, he noticed that it was already dark. The night air carried the scent of salt and humidity from the city, mixed with the distant murmur of traffic. He opened the warehouse and began to unload the merchandise, feeling the weight of the potato sack sinking his shoulders. He knew that his encounter with Amelia had not been easy, but he had already accepted that. What really worried him was Bella.
Usually, she wasn't so careless, much less so aggressive in her jokes. That change in her behavior could only mean one thing: she had some problem with the manager and didn't want to tell him.
And that could only mean trouble.
When he finished unloading, he closed the warehouse and returned inside the restaurant. As soon as he crossed the door, he saw the manager, Mr. Henrick, gesturing for him to come closer.
Tomás obeyed immediately and closed the door behind him.
"Relax, Tomás, don't look at me like that," the man said, resting his elbows on the desk. "We're already closed and Amelia is cleaning the tables. There's not much left to do, really, except for tomorrow's preparations and some cleaning."
Tomás felt a thorn sink deeper into his chest.
"How can I help you?" he asked in a controlled voice.
He could already guess where this was going. His instinct could run faster than his words, but it didn't matter.
After all, he already expected it.
The manager took an envelope and slid it across the desk surface.
"Take it."
Tomás took it and felt it. He didn't need to open it to know it was money.
A heavy silence settled between them.
Tomás's expression grew even more somber. In reality, he had seen this situation coming for a while. He couldn't even argue or complain in any way.
The fact that he had lasted two years in this job was already a miracle.
"I don't think it's a bonus," he commented without hesitation.
"Of course not. It's your severance pay for your years of service," Henrick exhaled with a certain weariness. "But I've decided that it's best for you to work until the end of the month. Anyway, my recommendation is inside the envelope."
Tomás raised an eyebrow.
"Recommendation? I didn't expect that."
"It has nothing to do with your performance. You're a good worker. If it were just up to me, I wouldn't fire you," the manager looked away for just an instant, as if ashamed of his own actions. "But I can't allow relationships between colleagues inside the premises."
Tomás felt something inside him harden.
"I don't have any relationship. Much less with someone from the place. I imagine you know I was rejected."
"I know."
The confirmation came in a low murmur.
"This is bigger than me."
Tomás kept his gaze fixed on the man for a few seconds.
Then, he sighed.
"I know, don't worry. I guess I'll say goodbye at the end of the month, then."
He took the envelope calmly. It weighed more than it should.
Too much.
Almost like a kind of bribe.
Without further ado, he left the office and walked to his locker. He placed the envelope inside with bitter resignation.
This is goodbye.
He felt slightly dizzy at the thought.
He was putting away his things when Amelia entered the changing room.
"It's a shame you got fired," she commented in a measured tone.
Tomás didn't flinch.
"Oh, don't worry. It's not like this is the only job in the city," he replied, slowly closing his locker door. Then, unhurriedly, he added, "And I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable with my declaration. You were always kind to me. I guess I got confused at some point."
Amelia observed him with an expression difficult to read. Then, a sarcastic smile formed on her lips.
"I'm kind to everyone."
Tomás offered a half-smile.
"I know. Especially when it's convenient."
He moved away naturally, ready to go help Bella with the final preparations.
It was unfortunate that he wouldn't be able to continue enjoying his time with her for many more days.
"Really take care, Amelia," he said in a neutral tone. "Lest in this game the hunter ends up being the main dish."
She frowned slightly.
"What do you mean?"
Tomás glanced at her and shook his head.
"Nothing."
He took a breath before uttering the final words.
"I guess fate only leaves within our reach what we deserve. For better or worse."
He turned around and left the changing room.
It was the second woman he had confessed to in his life.
And the second bitter end.
Tomás went to the kitchen and helped Bella prepare the vegetables for the next day. Then they made bread, while conversing trivialities with their usual cheerfulness.
For a moment, nothing else existed.
The restaurant, already empty and dimly lit, seemed like a refuge.
A space apart from the world, where the weight of goodbye had not yet fully fallen upon them.
Tomás left the restaurant when it was already past ten at night. He walked a couple of blocks along the silent sidewalk, the sound of his footsteps muffled by the damp asphalt. The night air was cold, but not enough to chill him to the bone.
It was then that he heard his name.
He stopped dead in his tracks and, turning, saw her.
Bella was there, standing under the orange light of a lamppost that bathed her blonde hair with an ethereal glow. The breeze swayed her loose strands and between her fingers she held a half-smoked cigarette, whose smoke ascended in lazy spirals into the darkness of the sky.
"Is it true that you decided to leave me?" she asked in a serene voice, but with a nuance of vulnerability that did not go unnoticed by him.
Tomás barely smiled.
"I didn't think it would be the farewell, but this is a pleasant surprise," he said softly. "Pleasant, but reckless."
His eyes fixed on hers, laden with something he couldn't describe.
"You know very well what all this is about," he continued. "I still have two weeks left."
Bella frowned.
"They told me you had resigned. What is all this about?"
Tomás sighed, looking down at the ground.
"Resign? Why would I do something like that? I was fired, but I don't feel offended, if that's what worries you."
Bella brought the cigarette to her lips and took a long drag, letting the smoke escape slowly from her mouth.
"I see. I didn't want to understand it, but I guess now I have it very clear. Thanks to you."
Tomás felt a knot form in his throat. He tried to hold back the tears, but his body betrayed him.
"There are still many days left before I leave, so..."
Bella dropped the cigarette to the ground and put it out with the tip of her shoe. Then, without warning, she stepped forward and hugged him tightly.
"You're a child to me," she whispered, burying her face in his neck. "I know you don't like to be told that, but I'm not doing it for you, I'm doing it for me. You understand me, right?"
Tomás closed his eyes tightly.
"Of course I understand," he said, feeling his own voice break. "I'm just a child. A stupid and naive child. What can a brat like me know about adult life?"
A tear rolled down his cheek and fell onto Bella's clothes, who held him even tighter, as if fearing that if she let go, he would disappear.
"Don't be angry with me," she whispered, her voice a thread. "You're the only thing I had left."
Tomás rested his chin on her shoulder.
"If you need me, call me. I'll come. No matter the day, or the time."
Bella trembled slightly before clinging to him more tightly.
And then he felt it.
A subtle brush on his neck, barely a second of contact.
A kiss.
When Bella let go of him, the ash from her cigarette lay cold on the concrete of the sidewalk. Her eyes still held the trace of tears that did not fall.
Both knew this would not be the end.
But neither of them said it aloud.
That night, Tomás walked through the city for three long hours.
Every street he walked down, every lamppost that illuminated him, and every shadow cast on the walls seemed to accompany him on his eternal stroll.
He would have wished that walk hadn't been so solitary.
Seeing her before leaving the restaurant left a strange feeling in his chest.
The certainty that loneliness was not good.
That no one should live alone.
But it wasn't as if he had put himself in that position either.
When he finally returned home, the darkness greeted him as always, enveloping him in its silent embrace.
He turned on the kitchen light.
On the sink were two sets of dishes.
His mother had eaten dinner.
He washed the dishes in silence and began to cook, moving like an automaton, his gaze lost.
He didn't turn on the television, nor did he play music.
Only the sound of running water and clashing utensils broke the monotony of the environment.
But the silence inside him was stronger.
Suddenly, while washing, he felt his eyes burn.
Tears began to fall uncontrollably.
He wasn't sobbing, nor making any noise.
He simply let them fall, one after another, as if his body was purging something too deep to be understood.
A sense of loneliness so vast that no sound, no presence, could fill it.
What Tomás didn't know was that Amelie was there.
Hidden in the hallway, leaning against the wall, listening to him in the dim light.
She didn't have the courage to approach.
She didn't have the courage to comfort him.
Because, deep down, the dilemma of never having been a true mother to him gnawed at her.
The terrible discomfort and guilt.
He wasn't her son, after all.
Most of the time she didn't even want to look him in the face.
She had never been kind to him.
She had never celebrated his birthday.
She had never congratulated him on anything, even though he had always been a good student.
A good boy.
And with each year that passed, she saw him drift further and further away.
And perhaps it was already too late to do anything about it.