My Soul - Mi Alma (Ongoing)

34 You're fired!

I woke up with Carlos's arms tightly around me. It was already 7:30, I felt totally devastated after last night, but I had to get up and talk to Francis explaining why I wouldn't be at the office before noon. Carlos was leaving this afternoon, and I couldn't let him go with my emotional mess last night as our last memory.

"Good morning mi Alma" he sent me a loving but tired glance; "Do you have to get up?"

"I need to text Francis, saying I will come in after lunch – I was planning to take you to the airport" I heard my voice, the reliable, proper Alma – but Ice princess? Not really, I had to work on that one.

"I love you, mi Alma – will you marry me?" His morning breath was mortal.

"Not until you brush your teeth," I smirked at him.

He rushed out of bed, and I heard a dedicated toothbrusher from the bathroom. I walked downstairs to fetch some coffee and brought it back up to our bedroom.

"I love you, Alma, will you marry me now – I have brushed my teeth."

"Carlos, we need to talk seriously about us, your kids, and the fact that you are all relocating to New York. I love you and would marry you on the spot, but we have a somewhat more complicated family life to work out" I sent him a begging glance.

"Alma, why do you overthink everything? We have been waiting for each other for six years – My sons are great young men; they are no longer kids. Jorge is 16, and Alessandro is 12. Jorge is as into running as you are, Alessandro is more artistic, he is a very talented pianist – please Alma, give them – and us - a chance." Carlos pulled me down on the bed and started caressing my breasts – not that I really have much to brag about in the milk wagon department, but what I have is extremely sensitive.

"I do want to give this relationship a chance, Carlos, for god's sake, I have been masturbating to your picture for six years. I'm not even 14 years older than your oldest son. Will he accept me as a mum? – You have to understand Carlos, having my own children and bringing them up from infants to adults, is one thing – you have the whole childhood process. Taking over as a mum for two teenaged boys is terrifying. I don't even know if I like children."

Carlos looked at me with an unreadable expression. "You don't want us to have our own children, Alma?"

"Oh, Carlos, I don't know. Yes, I do – I think, but you have to understand. To me, this relationship isn't like an excel sheet with a sum at the end of the column; it's all about emotions and doubt. Do you want to be a dad again in your 40-ies? Can you take late-night crying, or will I have to carry the responsibility? What about my career? If we have children – do I have to give up work? Will you give up work? We reconnected two months ago, I think we need more time to explore each other. I know I love you, and I always have – but I need time and space. What if we leave each other, and I have connected well with your sons – will they feel like they lost their mother all over again? I might seem strong, but I'm frail, Carlos, I want us, I want your sons – but we have to plan together to make this work. Yes, I'm looking forward to the summer with your sons, yes I'm looking forward to growing old together, yes I'm looking forward to having your babies, but we need to plan things a bit better – I hate it when I feel overrun by you. We have to be on the same page to make this work."

"Alma, you make me feel like a moron. I guess I just went too far too fast. I have lived with the fantasy of us together since I left New York six years ago, and as impatient as I am – I wanted it all to happen right here and now – Sorry, Alma, I think we both need time and space, but I need to know – Marry me? Yes or no?"

"Yes, Carlos, but let's wait a bit, this is like a huge jigsaw puzzle; we need the right pieces in the right places. When I fully commit to you, it's for life."