“I didn’t tell almost anyone,” I continued. “My children already had too many worries. I didn’t want to frighten them.”
I felt the words coming out slowly, as if I were opening a door I had kept closed for a long time.
— The operation was difficult. The doctors weren’t sure if I was going to survive. I lost weight, I lost my hair… and many times I thought my life was ending.
Manuel said nothing.
He just listened.
— When I looked at myself in the mirror after the surgery… — my voice trembled a little — … I felt that I was no longer the same woman.
I wiped away a tear that had started to fall.
— I thought no one would ever see me as beautiful again.
Silence filled the room.
Manuel slowly lowered his gaze to the scars.
His eyes were shining.
Then he did something I will never forget.
He leaned forward.
And gently kissed one of the scars.
I felt my heart stop.
Then he kissed another one.
And another one.
As if each of those marks were something sacred.
“These scars…” he said, his voice breaking, “… are not something you should hide.”
He looked up at me.
His eyes were full of tears.
— They are proof that you survived.
A tear rolled down his cheek.
— They are proof that you fought.