Chapter 3 It's nothing

decided to leave the house to clear my mind; but, if that's what it has, that's what it will be. - Depends on what you call attachment - he raises his eyebrows and turns his penetrating eyes to me. Maybe it's the contrast of

the long eyelashes and thick eyebrows that make her look so striking, but either way, it's a look worthy of all.

the attention. I divert mine, choosing to drink more lemon water. I feel more grounded doing this than facing.

him. - He called me to make one last request - Nathan says, not bothering to return to my question about attachment. - He wants to see me married, but, you know, I'm not going to do that shit just because he wants

me to. I look at him again. - You seem irritated - I comment. - Is he a rebellious son? He smirks, leaning

forward a little. Not much, just to the point of making my breath suspend for a millisecond due to the projection of the almost. It almost reaches me too close. - I'm a good son, my father said so himself - he

confdes in a low voice. - Were you a good daughter to your parents? It's a really weird question, but if I

wanted to know about him, it would be okay to answer that about myself. "Yes," I say. - I was always a good

daughter. My parents don't say that much, considering that it wasn't, and isn't, the easiest thing in the world to pay attention to seven children. But, it's noticeable, I think. That I'm a good daughter, I mean. - Seven? -

Nathan whistles. - Cum. This is what it means to enjoy populating the Earth. I laugh. A sincere laugh. Free.

Light. And it's the frst since I can remember after Jacob. - Yes, seven. I think in the past the pastime was dating. He smiled. - It should be - he agrees. - What's your hobby? - Ah - I say as if it were something.

banal to respond. - I'm a photographer, so I think this is my hobby: taking photos. - Don't you like anything.

else? He looks feetingly interested, which makes me smile. - Good yes. I like to try to paint the fowers I

photograph sometimes. I don't come close to real beauty, but I try. It's fun. "Real beauty," he repeats, his eyes

narrowing, as if examining me. - Like yours? - Mine? - I laugh again. - You are so pretty. Lovely. I'm pretty sure that's your name. Your parents saw you and had no doubt that it would be the perfect name for their

daughter, where all the beauty remained. Did I get it right? My laugh now is one of embarrassment. It was a lame thing for Nathan to say, but it's been a while since I've felt this light, and I've had someone firt with me,

so I have a free pass to embarrass myself and Nathan has a free pass to be lame. - No no. My name is Victoria. And only after saying it do I realize that I introduced myself without realizing it. Nathan -

Victoria - I repeat. - With that name, she was born victorious. The hot girl next to me lets out a murmur. I

didn't say the right thing or she completely disagrees with the words that left my mouth. Regardless of what it

was, I don't think it will be difcult to get her to my house in a few minutes. I'm needy is clearly written on her

forehead. Even though she makes a great effort to hide it, by not saying her name at frst, it's not like she shows disinterest. - You have brothers? - Victoria chooses to ask rather than scold me. - Only child. How

good, right? Imagine two, three or seven - I smile - children being raised by a father like mine, who didn't.

even remember he had a son. I came to the conclusion that he must hate my mother. - Why? - she fnds it

strange. - For putting me in the world and consequently in his life. - Oh - Victoria takes a moment to digest.

my answer and adds a question: - By the way, how is she dealing with the fact that her father is almost...

passing away? I smile. - I don't know, I don't know about her - I disdain. - He left, that's all he said to me

when I managed to fnd him to ask - I look at my empty glass, the glass suddenly looking interesting. - Not

that I care, I'm not going to blame an attitude that I don't understand. My father must not have been the best

husband either. Good father was not. I didn't try to fnd out if he was a good boss, but I know he was a good

businessman. He saved a lot of money and built an enviable estate. Victoria refrains from speaking until she decides to say: - To the point of forcing your mother to abandon her son... He really shouldn't be the best

husband. - Anyway, I wasn't a wanted son. For neither of them - I am convinced of what I say. - My father

must have asked her to disappear after I was born. Or rather, she must have left me with it, taken some money

and run away. Victoria has another moment of astonishment; but if things happened like this, it's not

surprising, really. My parents should not win a gold medal for what they did: me. I have more memories of

people who aren't even related to me than of them. From my father, actually. From my mother... I don't even

know who she is! I ask the bartender for another shot of whiskey and when he comes to fll my glass, I make

him leave me with the bottle. When my focus returns to the woman next to me, I see her clutching her cell

phone. Her face is tense and soon the device is discarded onto the counter with urgent disgust, Victoria

bringing the glass of lemonade to her mouth and pressing it to her lips, clinking her nails on the glass as her view freezes in front of her. - Did you receive news of another brother coming into the world? - I ask in an

attempt to relax. She looks at me immediately, almost startled, almost as if she's forgotten I'm next to her. -

What did you say? - She responds, her eyebrows furrowed. - You got tense after looking at your cell phone -

I gesture with my head to point it over the counter - I asked if it was because I received the news that you

were going to have a new brother. - Ah - she gives an awkward smile, shaking her head at the same time. -

That? It's nothing... - Isn't it? - I narrow my eyes. - I don't want to be a gossiper, because I'm not. But look at

us, at you - I smile into your glass of lemonade. - We're in a bar at the end of a weekday. It doesn't seem like

what we have out there is better than being here, with our glasses. So, if I may say so, this "it's nothing"

certainly doesn't exist for you. Victoria takes a deep breath, shaking her head in a kind of lonely denial. She

lets out another murmur, head down. - You're right - she breathes out. - It's not that it's nothing, but it's not

something that needs to be shared. It doesn't deserve to be divided. - Oh, without that! I don't care about

meritocracy in any situation. Tell me there. She looks at me and smiles, nodding once. - It was my ex - she

ends up saying, albeit quietly, as if telling me a