When we had visitors, the bottle remained stored in the cupboard.
One day, when our daughter Emily was sixteen, she walked into the kitchen and saw the bottle.
“What’s inside?” he asked, curious.
Victor took it and smiled.
—It’s a special family recipe. I’ll tell you the story someday.
Emily shrugged and went back to her room.
I, however, continued to reflect on his words.
Years have passed, but our nightly tradition has never changed.
Once a month, Victor received a small package in the mail.
He kept it carefully and, a short time later, a new bottle, without a label, appeared in the cupboard.
Whenever I asked him where he came from, he would reply that he was from an old acquaintance.
When I suggested asking him for the recipe, Victor would simply smile.
One day I’ll tell you everything.
One night, I decided to put my glass down.
When Victor left the kitchen for a few minutes, I put the drink away.
The following morning, I noticed that one of the nearby plants didn’t look as vibrant as it had the day before.
I was surprised and spent part of the day thinking about what could have happened.
I remembered all those years and started asking myself questions.
Why was that drink so special?
Why did Victor always keep it in the same place?
And why has he never spoken about his origins?
Victor, for his part, remained the same caring man he always was.
When I was having a tough day, he would help me.
When she was tired, she prepared dinner.
Whenever Emily needed something, he was always there for her.
That’s why I found it even more curious that he kept this little tradition a secret.
A few weeks later, I put the glass aside again.
The next morning, Victor looked at me and asked:
—You didn’t finish your drink yesterday.
How do you know?
She smiled.
—We’ve been sitting together at this same time for thirty-five years.
That answer only increased my curiosity.
From then on, I started thinking frequently about the story of that bottle.
Until our thirty-fifth wedding anniversary arrived.
Victor picked up an old photo album.
We spent the afternoon reminiscing about some of the best moments of our lives together.
Finally, he pointed to the bottle and said:
One day you will know why this little tradition has been so important to me.
—And why don’t you tell me now?
Victor smiled.
It’s not the right time yet.
Months later, Victor was no longer at home.
Continued on the next page.
