I didn't know why I thought to go there, but I was beginning to wonder if it had been a good idea.

The Mexican restaurant my parents ran was crazy. Color and music flooded everything. Almost all the tables were full and people seemed upbeat and enjoying their dinner which, to be fair, appealed to the appetite just by smelling it. Too much noise for two poor people exhausted and dirty.

"For the trolls' sake! Kristoff! What happened to you?"

My mother came out from behind the curtain that led to the rear, wrapped in an apron covered in red spots and looking worried.

"It's nothing, ma. We only spent the afternoon at the orphanage."
"We?"

She shifted her gaze from my face to Anna's, scanned it shamelessly up and down, and her concern magically disappeared.

"I am Bulda, dear. The mother of this huge babe."
"Ma!"
"Come, I'll walk you upstairs. I'll take you to which was Kristoff's room before he left his parents because he was too old to continue enjoying his company and one of my daughters will leave you some clean clothes without shreds. Looking at those malnourished bones, whatever they leave you will be a little too big, but you will feel more comfortable."

I looked at Anna in horror at how my mother's domesticity was starting to get somewhat offensive, and saw a contained laugh on her tight lips. Thank God.

I saw them disappear in the direction of my room, while my mother spoke almost without stopping to breathe, and I sneaked into the room of one of my brothers to clean myself and shake my clothes. Even if I'd try, I doubted I could put on either of their clothes without bursting them outright.

Like five minutes later, less smelly and dusty, I stepped out into the hall and found myself face to face with Anna and my mother who were fervently debating whether the best sauce for a good pasta dish was pesto or carbonara. Anna wore a simple and loose T-shirt that reached almost to her knees and covered the L-shaped tear of her pants, she had let down and washed her hair and I would say that she had even scented herself.

"How long have I been in there?"
"Are you ready, sweetie? Perfect. Take the lady to the table that we have reserved for you two. We can't let your girl go hungry."
"She's not my…"

But my mother didn't allow me to finish the sentence. She headed downstairs humming a ranchera and turning a deaf ear to my every word.

I turned to Anna somewhat embarrassed and met her bright grin.

"Sorry. I don't think I thought it through as well as I should have."
"She's a lovely woman. And I feel clean and fresh. Thanks for bringing me. Besides, she's promised me that her nachos are the best in town."
"I can't deny it."
"Then, what are we waiting for?"

I followed Anna, who moved freely around my family's house, and we sat at the small, cornered, poorly-lit table my mother had reserved for us. A few minutes later, my father appeared with a platter of nachos with different sauces and a little note hooked on the edge. He brazenly shoved the note into my shirt pocket, winked at me, bowed slightly to Anna, and went the way he had come.

Anna looked at me intrigued and I glanced at the note, afraid to find what it actually put on that paper.

'If you need a room, your sheets are freshly changed. We will make sure that your brothers do not disturb you.'

I sighed and put my hands to my face. Then I spread my fingers trying to see Anna through the gap between them and her curious look made me laugh.

"You don't want to see what is written here."
"But I can?"
"I guess you can… Just… don't take it too seriously. You've seen what they are like."

Anna nodded, leaned toward me making my insides clench, and took the paper from my fingers without ever breaking eye contact. After that, she settled into her chair, unfolded the note, and let the color of her cheeks made her look like she had already tasted the spicy sauce.

"You want to try the nachos?" I asked changing the subject as I got the note back and put it in my pocket.
"Sure," she replied giving me a shy smile.

The shy smile soon turned into hot sauce-covered lips, a face redder than I expected, and some sweat.

"If you prefer a milder sauce, we can…"

"You think I can't handle this?"
"I didn't say…"

"Let me tell you, I've been through more difficult things than dealing with a fucking hot sauce."

I laughed at her bluntness.

"And, is it necessary for you to get an ulcer to prove it? I thought the idea was to enjoy dinner."
"And I am doing it. I enjoy challenges!"
"As you wish, feisty-pants."

Anna wiped the sweat from her forehead with her arm, took a deep breath, took a gulp of water, and picked up another nacho. Then, as if she had changed the channel with remote control, her expression suddenly turned sad and she began to play with the nacho on the sauce.

"Everything okay?" I asked without really knowing if we had the level of familiarity necessary to ask.

Anna looked into my eyes still playing with the food and gave me a somewhat gloomy smile.

"You know? Actually, I'm a little envious of you."
"Of me? Why?"
"You have a big and loving family, a lot of kids who consider you as their brother, and a friend of literally a lifetime. I… I grew up in a house in the country, alone with my older sister and my parents. There was never anyone else. Then… my sister went through a strange illness that made her have to be admitted to a city hospital for years. We saw each other too little often and she didn't have the energy to deal with a child either, so our relationship gradually cooled. Fortunately, during adolescence, she managed to overcome her illness, but she didn't feel comfortable with us, so she looked for work and stayed in the city. I think she had felt out of place, and I don't blame her. And when, ten years ago, my parents died in an accident, she had no choice but to take me into her home. We've been kinda rebuilding our relationship, and we even work together, but it was never the same again. It's been a pretty lonely life, you know? Until I entered college, I never had any friends, and, the friends I made there, weren't very long-lasting either. Each one makes their life and leaves the others aside. Some even consider you a rival."

It was incredible to me how easily she was telling me about the dark part of her life. Had they put alcohol in the sauce? However, I didn't feel uncomfortable at all. Quite the opposite. I just wanted to take her hand again and try to comfort her. But it was not that easy. There, I felt much more aware of my actions and I couldn't get the courage to do it.

"And, then," she continued suddenly filling her mouth with the nacho and wiping away a tear that I never knew if was the result of her painful memories or the spiciness of the excess sauce that she had picked up with her tongue. "when you finally find someone who seems to be genuinely interested in sharing his life with you, who tells you that you will no longer be alone and that everything will be fine, you discover that he only told you all those things because, apparently, you share name and surname with I don't-know-what high-born girl who has just inherited the family fortune and he had believed that you were her. And he leaves you two months before the wedding that thanks God you were waiting at the last minute to organize and that would have been exactly yesterday, by the way."

My back stiffened and I could feel my teeth grinding.

"The ring," she said then looking at how my fists clenched to the point of starting to dig my nails into the palms. "it was the reminder of how I was fooled by the first charming words I had heard in a long, long time. The reminder of how he laughed at me and of how he sighed in relief when he realized that he had found it out before marrying me. It is the reminder of how stupid and naive I was and of how there is no one in this world who truly loves me."

I gulped. Something was hurting in my chest, perhaps in my soul, when I heard those words from that woman who made every second by her side worthwhile.

"I think…" I finally encouraged myself to take her hand in mine and caressed it carefully with my thumb. "I think it doesn't have to be the reminder of all those things."
"What?" she asked apparently intrigued.
"I think that ring should become the proof of how strong you are; of how you have gone through complicated and painful circumstances and have moved on, outdoing yourself every day, learning from your mistakes, and becoming a better version of yourself."

Anna squeezed my hand and smiled at me again, but this time with a different sparkle in her eyes, clearly influenced by the tears that threatened to come out of them, but also with a touch of joy and energy, with strength and passion. This time, I saw rebirth in her smile and not guilt.

"I think I could get used to your theory," she then said, putting another nacho in the sauce, being much more careful not to take more than necessary.
"You should."

I let go of her hand slowly and grabbed my own nacho. I could get used to having that smile in my life.

"Anna?!"

Anna reacted to her name with a more intense start than one might expect and turned to the side of the table where a redhead with green eyes and exaggeratedly long and profiled sideburns waited with some surprise in his eyes and a twisted smile that I didn't like a bit.

"I was just thinking that I had to call you. I have a pending chat with you."