5

Edgar Torn.

Getting permission for the event was easier than I expected.

I introduced myself as a college professor, elaborated on my interest in supporting young writers, and subtly mentioned the importance of the institution. The woman in charge of the guest list seemed excited about my presence.

I entered the hall with my briefcase slung over my shoulder, wearing the same discreet business attire I usually wear to university lectures. A light-colored shirt, dark pants, nothing that would draw attention—which was accurately what I wanted. To go unnoticed until the right moment.

The reception was crowded.

People were laughing, talking, showing each other the covers of their books and providing contact information with exuberance.

I really did not go to places like this, it didn’t fit me very well, but well, nobody knew about it. No one needed to know.

I picked up a glass of juice on the center table, just to look a little busy. I never liked alcohol, let alone cigarettes. Just the smell made me sick.

I preferred to keep my mind clear and clean.

I exchanged a few words with some participants. Polite smiles, formal greetings.

A woman named Alice asked me about my work.

“I'm a college professor; I help to inspire writers,” I said, taking a sip of juice. She seemed to perk up.

She approached me and smiled, as if waiting for an invitation to continue the conversation, but I walked away soon after, saying I was going to talk to other people. It was an excuse, of course. My focus was elsewhere.

And then she appeared.

Sarah.

Not like in the Instagram photos, not like in that image from the park or in my memory of the launch.

She was... more beautiful, more radiant.

Her dress was lilac, a very soft, delicate and contrasted with her fair skin. Her honey-colored hair beat in waves on her shoulders, and her brown eyes, with that greenish glow, blinked in the ambient light.

And his smile... he seemed to light up the whole place. I stood still for a moment, watching from afar as she was talking to two young people, they looked like authors. Sarah was smiling, she seemed very excited, cheerful. That smile was contagious, I let a discreet smile appear on my lips.

She had a presence that no one could ignore.

I waited.

Did not want to look like an intruder. I would wait, would approach at the right time. I took a deep breath and looked around as the seconds passed.

When she undressed from those young men and went to the drink table, I realized that she wanted to catch her breath. She took a deep breath and looked around. I then thought of acting. I walked slowly, while my hands were in my pocket, it was a mania of mine, when I was a little nervous, anxious.

I got closer and stood by her side. At that exact moment, she had asked for sparkling water.

I asked for the same. And then, when she turned around, our eyes met.

She smiled kindly.

“Are you Sara Thompson?” I asked in a calm, almost hesitant tone.

“Yes, it's me,” she replied, a little shy but not uncomfortable.

I smiled slightly and continued.

“I bought your book and read it all in one day.” The words came out sincere and clean. “Congratulations; you've written something really amazing.”

His eyes twinkled. It was as if I gave a gift.

"Wow, I thank you so much!" she said, moved. "I’m delighted to hear that, really. What’s your name?" she asked, curious.

She reached out her hand, gently.

And when our fingers touched, something happened.

A shock.

Something strong in my chest. I couldn’t think straight, breathe straight. I just stared at her in her clear eyes.

She was so similar to Amanda... and at the same time so unique. It was interesting.

I smiled, a little, and said.

"I’m Edgar. It’s a pleasure to meet you officially,'' I replied, softly.

Sarah smiled and took a step back, holding her water and interspersing in looking at me and to the side. I realized that she was acting strange, I knew she had felt something, even though I didn’t know exactly what it was.

"Edgar, have we met before? '' he asked, looking at me, studying my face. ''Your face seems familiar to me."

My heart raced, but I controlled myself. I took a sip of water before answering.

“I was in the autograph line at your book launch.”

Her eyes sprouted slightly, she was surprised.

"Ah, yes, of course" put one of his hands on his head and apologized. ''Well, I just remembered his face, I apologize for not recognizing him before.'' she said, ashamed.

" Don’t worry about it, there were plenty of people that day," smiles, truly, for the first time in a long time. "I want to present myself properly, I am a teacher in a college for beginning writers. '' I confessed, raising the bottle to my lips.

She smiled and shook her head, put a lock of hair behind her ear.

"You have even a teacher’s style.'' she pointed to my clothes, my face, with a glimmer in the look. '' Style of clothes, nerd expression, the glasses," she said, not looking away.

Sarah was right, and I liked that she paid attention to me, it just made my heart beat.

I shook my head, agreeing.

"You’re very observant, Sarah," she said in a light tone.

She nodded, with that shameful but kind manner.

Everything about her seemed kind, natural, effortless. She had a kind of presence that you don't find every day.

We talked for a few minutes. She commented on the event, saying that she still felt improper in places like this, even though she loved writing. She sometimes felt awkward around so many people.

Sarah then told me that she was starting a new book, but was afraid of how the readers would react if they did not like the work.

She wanted them to like it, just as they loved its release.

Her look was worried, she took her finger to her lip, thoughtful. Then I raised my voice.

"It’s normal to feel that way, Sarah," I said, leaning her head to her side. "The hardest part is starting the work. Think so, do not give up, write what you like. If you happen to feel that way, do not think twice, show up at the university, we can talk, I can help you, whenever you want."

''Thanks for the advice, I’ll do it... But, Edgar, the way you talk, does it seem like you’ve already written something, have you ever written a book?'' asked, curious.

I smiled slightly.

“I've written a few things, yes... but nothing published. Much more analysis than creation. Academic papers, articles. Nothing as beautiful as what you do,” I admitted.

She blushed slightly. I noticed.

It was all there: the sparkle, the hesitation, the sweetness that made others smile, but that, in me... provoked something deeper. Something I couldn't quite explain. I don't even know if I could.

For the first time in a long time, I wasn't just remembering Amanda.

I was seeing Sarah.

Maybe, deep down, they were two parts of the same whole.

Perhaps this was the second chance that life — or fate — was giving me.

She said goodbye politely called by one of the organizers to take a photo with other authors.

I stood there, watching her walk away. How she walked. How she smiled at others. She seemed to belong in that world.

And for some reason, I felt like I could belong there too.

With her.

By her side.

There was no need to rush anything. Everything was falling into place.

I knew how to wait. I was patient.

I waited for Amanda and now would be patient with Sarah.

I would stay close.

Attentive.

And, little by little, she would see me as I saw her.

It was only a matter of time.

While drinking sparkling water, my eyes went to her smile as she took pictures. Then her eyes met mine. She looked at me a little surprised, and then a smile appeared on her lips. That smile that touched my soul.