Chapter Six: Them.

The next day, Enric woke up with a hunch and put his phone on silent mode. It was Friday and he had the weekend off, so he imagined she would call to meet up the next day. By lunchtime, he had already received several instant messages with details to keep in mind for the date. In those systems, he had always been as terse in words as in active life and replied with an OK.

"Did my advice help?" Rubén sat next to him at the company dining table. "You look different than you did yesterday."

"What?" Enric was surprised. "I guess so, we'll see what Don Aitor thinks of the ideas for what he assigned me last week."

"Did you end up going to Retiro Park?"

Enric lowered his gaze to his food and nodded, smiling slightly unconsciously, and his friend noticed.

"Whoa! Did something happen yesterday?" Rubén slowly observed his face. "I'm glad it's something good. You'll tell me when you're calmer if you want." He looked at his lunch and glanced back at his friend momentarily. "And I hope it's soon."

They each continued with their meal and returned to work.

Enric sat in front of his computer and started writing. He had returned to his calm and secure habits; as if he were back to previous assignments, but now he felt much more valued. He remembered what Soraya thought about it and realized the girl seemed to be right after all.

At the end of the day, Rubén invited him to go for a walk, and Enric declined the invitation.

That Saturday was overcast but didn't seem like a sad day. He felt joyful as he looked out the window and saw the weak but gray canopy covering the sky. It wasn't about wishing rain on anyone, but about how the day presented itself to him. He started by heading to Callao Square and at the leisure store bought a couple of pocket books and the graphic novel saga he was working on. Soraya's diary would no longer be alone.

When he returned home, he made lunch. If Rubén knew what he was going to do afterward, he surely would have suggested a different meal, but his friend's imagination always shot too far when it came to expectations for Enric.

Before leaving, he was tempted to take the dress off the mirror and give it to Patricia, but it was too soon—or so he told himself.

They had agreed to meet at Puerta del Sol, specifically at the central fountain. Enric arrived and sat in a spot he found; he had arrived a bit earlier than agreed, but it gave him time to observe the surroundings.

He looked for Kilometer Zero—it wasn't hard since it was right in front of him, just below the clock that rings in the New Year. He slowly turned his gaze to the right. Calle Correos separated the City Hall building from the block where the café he and Rubén had visited was located. He remembered mentioning the Christmas fair back then. Maybe Patricia would want to go there.

Before he could continue, Patricia was already in front of him.

"Hi! Have you been waiting long?"

He shook his head and stood up, showing a slightly wider smile on his face. They exchanged a couple of kisses and she suggested going to Plaza Mayor, spoke of the beautiful red-painted facades, and waited for him to continue the conversation.

"When do they set up the Christmas stalls?"

She was surprised.

"I forgot what date it is," she looked at him curiously. "But how do you know that?"

"A work friend told me," Enric said with a hint of indifference. "We came here as soon as I arrived in Madrid and he mentioned it."

They didn't take long to get there, but Enric felt disappointed—the Christmas market wasn't there yet.

"It's next month," Patricia laughed. "Tomorrow there's philately and numismatics, if you're interested."

Enric remembered Soraya's hidden hobby and looked at Patricia—what hobbies did she have? He ended up probing with subtlety.

"Stamps and coins, huh?" Enric raised his eyebrows and looked at Patricia with curiosity.

"Oh, you like that?" she preferred to be direct.

"Not as a hobby, maybe as a source of information for work. And you?"

"Not exactly, but I do like reading—anything!" She looked at Enric with slightly heightened enthusiasm. "Books, comics, magazines, brochures..."

Enric's laugh was sincere and clear. People passing by turned to look at him. Patricia, with a proud smile, said nothing and let the boy calm down. And subconsciously, he thought Soraya would have gently told him to hush by hugging his arm or tickling his neck.

"Something like an information sponge!" they both said in unison, and then Enric laughed again. Patricia twisted her expression, though he knew Soraya would have changed the subject.

"How should I take that, as good or bad?" Patricia put her hands on her hips and looked at him with playful expectation.

"However you want!" and he laughed again, more subdued. The feeling that flooded him resembled freedom—not that he felt imprisoned with Soraya, but it felt like meeting Patricia had reset his behavior without erasing any memories.

Patricia took a breath and, looking into his eyes, commented:

"I hope you said that because you were thinking out loud," she concluded.

Patricia ran to the other corner of the square. Enric followed, slightly rushed.

"Does Luis Candelas ring a bell?"

"Yes, Madrid's most famous bandit. Another romantic?"

"No, a justice-seeker, like Robin Hood, and he didn't kill anyone."

Patricia's dreamy ideas had nothing to do with Soraya's opinions, always commenting on TV news and such. While one was about news, the other was about history.

"We could go to the caricaturists," Enric suggested.

"I don't like being drawn. The last time I had a portrait done, I had a terrible time."

"What happened?"

"That was a long time ago," Patricia looked at her hands with a bit of sadness. "My sister, the one who lives in Barcelona, submitted it as part of her portfolio and left."