Simplemente sería Eleanor de nuevo.
Quienquiera que fuera esa mujer.
I had no idea that the truth I’d stopped chasing was already somewhere aboard the ship.
The first day felt uncomfortable.
I wandered the decks, explored the restaurants, and watched families and couples enjoying themselves.
Everywhere I looked, people seemed to belong to someone.
I felt painfully alone.
But that evening, something unexpected happened.
An older couple approached my table in the dining room.
The woman smiled warmly.
“Are you dining by yourself?”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
“Well, not anymore.”
Su marido se rió.
“Marjorie has apparently decided we’re adopting another dinner companion.”
Marjorie waved away his comment.
“I’m Marjorie. This is my husband, Hal.”
They were from Oregon.
They’d been married for forty-one years.
And they had the kind of comfortable affection that comes from knowing another person for decades.
“You’re eating with us,” Marjorie announced.
