The house seemed different and much quieter.
One night, at exactly nine o’clock, I prepared two glasses out of habit.
So I just stared at them for a few minutes.
The next morning, I picked up the old bottle and decided to finally find out what was behind that tradition.
I took the sample to a laboratory to determine its exact composition.
A few days later, I received a call.
“Mrs. Carter, we would like to explain the results to you in person.”
Emily came with me.
The specialist greeted us and placed several documents on the table.
Do you know how long this has been part of your routine?
—For about thirty-five years.
The expert nodded.
Then I think you’ll find it interesting to learn about her story.
Read the rest in the comments.
The results showed something completely different from what I had imagined.
That drink was not simply a traditional drink.
It was a special preparation that Victor chose with the help of a professional to become part of my daily routine.
The expert also showed me some old documents.
My maiden name appeared on them.
I discovered that, during the first years of our marriage, I received an important recommendation related to taking care of my well-being.
At that moment, I didn’t want to give the matter much attention and I put those documents away.
Over the years, the memories of that time became more distant.
Victor, however, never forgot them.
He sought professional guidance and, for many years, provided me with the preparation that should have been part of my routine.
I put everything in a simple bottle so that it would seem like a normal part of our daily lives.
Then, the specialist handed me a letter that Victor had left behind.
“Dear:
You once told me that you wanted to enjoy each day without having to constantly think about complicated issues.
That’s why I turned her routine into our little nightly tradition.
My glass contained only my favorite bitter fruit juice.
I brought this with you so that you would never feel alone doing anything.
I apologize for insisting so much on maintaining our little custom.
Maybe one day you’ll understand why this meant so much to me.
I just wanted you to be able to enjoy a long and peaceful life.
I held the letter in my hands for a few moments.
For thirty-five years, I thought Victor simply had a strange habit that he never wanted to explain.
Now he understood that, for him, that small tradition meant much more.
It was a way to share a special moment with me every night.
Since then, when it’s nine o’clock, I sometimes put two glasses back on the table.
One of them contains my usual preparation.
The other was the bitter fruit juice that Victor enjoyed so much.
I raise my glass towards the empty chair and say:
—A toast to another day and to the thirty-five years we’ve share
