13. Ravi Bonetti
1496 Words
The morning dragged on between meetings, spreadsheets, and an irritation that grew in the pit of my chest.
I tried to focus. Really. But it was as if all the voices in the room were muffled. Every word spoken in the meetings with the partners seemed distant, as if behind glass. The only thing I could really think was: will she show up?
Manoela.
After five months. After the silence. And now... after that mute revelation, in the middle of the café, when I saw her belly under the apron and everything collapsed.
Pedro walked into my office just before noon, leaning against the doorframe.
"You're going out, aren't you?" he asked, as if he already knew the answer.
"Yes."
He crossed his arms.
"Did she confirm?"
"No. But she doesn't need to."
Pedro nodded slowly, his eyes filled with concern.
"If you need me, I'm here. And, Ravi..."
I looked up.
"Take it slow. Sometimes, the truth doesn't come all at once."
I nodded, grabbed my coat, and left.
The drive to the café was quick. I drove with a strange mix of anxiety and calm—as if I already knew that, no matter what happened, there was no turning back.
I parked the car on the same narrow street as always, and there she was.
Manu.
Outside, near the entrance, with her hands crossed over her chest and her eyes fixed on the ground. Her hair was loose this time, a light coat covering her thin frame, and yet... the volume of her belly was visible.
So real.
I stopped the car and got out before she could make any move. I walked around, pulled open the passenger door with a calm gesture.
"Good morning," I said, offering a small smile.
She hesitated for a second before returning the smile, shyly, and getting into the car.
"Thank you."
I closed the door carefully and walked around to the driver's seat.
"How are you?"
She bit her lip, as if choosing simple words was a difficult task.
"I'm okay... tired." Her voice came out low. "And a little nauseous today."
"Have you eaten?"
"Just some bread."
I nodded, starting the car.
"Is there anywhere you'd like to go?"
"No... anywhere is fine."
"Anything you feel like eating?"
She hesitated. Bit her lip again. The same expression she had when she saw me at the café.
"I... I feel like lasagna. I don't know why. I just... do."
I smiled sideways.
"Then let's make that happen."
The trattoria was fifteen minutes away, in a neighborhood by the Thames. A building of dark bricks, with large windows and flower boxes on the balconies, covered by a green vine.
I parked out front, and she looked at the place with a surprised expression.
"It's beautiful."
"And it has some of the best lasagna I've ever eaten. Don't worry. It's a simple place, but very cozy."
We went in and were greeted with a smile by the waiter. The warm light, the Tuscan paintings on the walls, and the smell of fresh tomatoes created an almost domestic atmosphere.
We sat near the window. On the other side of the glass, the bridge rose elegantly over the river, and the noise of the city seemed distant.
"You can order whatever you want," I said.
She scanned the menu, shyly.
"The lasagna is perfect."
"And dessert?"
"I don't think I can handle all that..."
"It's allowed. Pregnant women have a free pass."
She laughed, softly, and the sound hit me in the chest like an unexpected blow.
The orders were placed, and for a few minutes, we sat in silence, until I decided to break it.
"I didn't remember you."
Manu looked at me, surprised by the frankness.
"From that night..." I continued. "When you showed up at the café, I recognized your face. But I didn't know your name. Or how to find you. I thought... it was just a drunken delirium."
She lowered her eyes.
"And I thought you just wanted to forget."
"That's not what it was."
"It wasn't easy for me either, Ravi. That night, I was still trying to keep up with college. I worked late. The next day, I was fired from the bar. And soon after, my father got sick. Things only got worse from there."
I took a deep breath.
"How did you find out?"
"I was nauseous for days. Then my period was late. I took the test at college, in the bathroom." Her eyes became teary. "And the worst part... is that the morning after that night, I couldn't even try to find you. I lost my job, I lost my scholarship, and... I lost control of my life."
"Why didn't you look for me?"
She looked at me as if the question were naive.
"Because I didn't even know your name. I only knew you were rich enough to live in a penthouse with a view of the city. And I... I was just a waitress with no place in the world. What would I say? That I was pregnant by a stranger and needed help?"
I didn't know what to say.
"Are you sure it's mine?"
She nodded, firmly.
"Yes. You were the only one."
There was silence.
"But if you want a test... I won't stop you. I don't want your money. Or anything. I just want to take care of her, my way. I already have a home, I'm already... married."
The last word seemed to weigh on her lips.
"And he... is he good to you?"
She looked away. Stared at the water glass as if she wanted to drown in it.
"Roger is... complicated."
"That doesn't answer my question."
She sighed.
"He's difficult."
I stayed quiet. But inside me, the unease grew.
"Does he yell at you?"
She didn't answer.
"Does he hurt you?"
She swallowed hard. Then looked away toward the window.
"Ravi... this isn't about that."
"But it should be."
She slowly turned her face and looked at me. There was a contained pain in her eyes. An exhaustion that only someone carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders knows.
"You disappeared, Ravi. And now you've shown up again. But my life... didn't pause. It turned into a hurricane."
"I want to be here now."
"And after?"
The waiter arrived with the dishes, interrupting the moment. Steaming lasagna, melted cheese, and fresh tomato sauce. Manu thanked him in a whisper and cut the first piece in silence.
I ate too. But my mind was racing.
She finished cutting another piece of lasagna but didn't bring the fork to her mouth. Her hand stayed there, suspended over the plate, while her eyes fixed on some invisible point ahead.
"I don't want anything except to make sure my baby is okay," she murmured, finally. "That's all that matters to me now. That she comes into the world healthy. That she's safe, far from anything that can hurt her."
Her voice broke a little at the end of the sentence, and I felt it like a blade under my skin.
I took a deep breath, resting my elbows on the table, leaning my body toward her.
"And I'll make sure of that, Manu." I paused and added firmly: "But your safety matters too."
She looked up, and there was something between surprise and resistance in her eyes.
"It's not that simple."
"It doesn't have to be simple. But you don't have to go through this alone."
She didn't answer right away. She looked back at her plate, as if the words had been too heavy. Then, in a thread of a voice, she murmured:
"It's complicated."
"Let me help," I asked. "Let me go with you to your next appointment. I want to hear her heartbeat. I want to see. I need to see."
She seemed to hesitate, her lips parted as if searching for a justification.
"I don't know if that's a good idea," she whispered.
"Because of your husband?"
Manu nodded. Her hand let go of the fork, which clattered against the plate with a small metallic sound.
For a second, she said nothing. The tension between us was dense, but not violent. It was the silence of both sides trying to protect something—her, herself; me, what could be ours.
"He... doesn't like questions. And he's already suspicious of my silence sometimes."
"I don't want to put you at risk." My voice came out softer. "But I also don't want to stay on the sidelines of this. I don't want to be just a shadow in the past. I want to be present. For the baby. And for you, too."
She looked at me with teary eyes, but took a deep breath and nodded, slowly.
"Okay. You can come."
I didn't smile, didn't celebrate. I just nodded seriously, feeling the weight of the promise settle between us. A silent alliance. A step.
Maybe small.
But in the right direction.
- Writer
