Part 21 (1/2)

”I was still very bruised. I couldn't believe it was possible to love again. He didn't say much; he taught me to speak Russian and told me that in the steppes they use the word 'blue' to describe the sky even when it's gray, because they know that, above the clouds, the sky is always blue. He took me by the hand and helped me to go through those clouds. He taught me to love myself rather than to love him. He showed me that my heart was at the service of myself and of G.o.d, and not at the service of others.

”He said that my past would always go with me, but that the more I freed myself from facts and concentrated on emotions, the more I would come to realize that in the present there is always a s.p.a.ce as vast as the steppes waiting to be filled up with more love and with more of life's joy.

”Finally, he explained to me that suffering occurs when we want other people to love us in the way we imagine we want to be loved, and not in the way that love should manifest itself-free and untrammeled, guiding us with its force and driving us on.”

I looked up at her.

”And do you love him?””I did.”

”Do you still love him?”

”What do you think? If I did love another man and was told that you were about to arrive, do you think I would still be here?”

”No, I don't. I think you've been waiting all morning for the door to open.”

”Why ask silly questions, then?”

Out of insecurity, I thought. But it was wonderful that she had tried to find love again.

”I'm pregnant.”

For a second, it was as if the world had fallen in on me.

”By Dos?”

”No. It was someone who stayed for a while and then left again.”

I laughed, even though my heart was breaking.

”Well, I suppose there's not much else to do here in this one-horse town,” I said.

”Hardly a one-horse town,” she replied, laughing too.

”But perhaps it's time you came back to Paris. Your newspaper phoned me asking if I knew where to find you. They wanted you to report on a NATO patrol in Afghanistan, but you'll have to say no.”