PART 2: THE FIRST MONTHS
During the first six months of marriage, Clara fulfilled each “order” of Don Baste.
He cleaned his feet every night.
I prepared his food.
He would accommodate his pillows.
I read the paper out loud.
And he…
He tried it.
Constantly.
“Sure, bring me dessert. Although I already had dinner.
“Clara, my feet are cold. Massage them.
“Sure, I don’t like this dress. Change it.
And Clara obeyed.
No complaint.
Without crying.
Without showing disgust.
But what Don Baste didn’t expect…
It was what Clara did when she thought he was sleeping.
One night, he found him “snoring” in his wheelchair.
He approached carefully.
And he put the blanket on his legs.
He kissed his forehead gently.
And whispered:
“Poor thing. I know it hurts to carry all this. But you’re not alone. I’m here.
Don Baste didn’t sleep.
And those words…
Those words pierced his heart like an arrow.
Because no one, in thirty-five years of life, had spoken to him with that tenderness.
Not even his mother.
Not even his ali friends.
Not even his lovers.
Nobody.
