The breeze in Rota always brings something unexpected. The wind sweeps over the whitewashed rooftops, drifts down to the fishing port, and then circles back to the base gates where the marines stand watch, always looking a little out of place in this corner of the world.
My name is Antonio, and I've spent nearly all my life here, in this small town on Spain's southern coast, where waves crash against the old walls and nights smell of fried fish and chilled wine. I never thought I'd get married, let alone that I'd spend my life with someone from across the ocean--a woman who couldn't even pronounce my name at first. I met Emily--or "Emi," as we call her here--one July afternoon, when the sun was melting everything in sight and the sand burned your feet. I was in my friend's bar, wiping down glasses with my usual monotony, when she walked in. The place went quiet for a moment; American women didn't usually venture into our neighborhood, let alone into a bar with no air conditioning and no view of the beach.
Emily was alone, her blonde hair pulled back in a high ponytail, with clear, curious eyes and just enough Spanish to ask for a glass of water. The heat seemed to bother her, but there was a mix of determination and shyness in her expression that caught me instantly. I, who'd spent my whole life here and knew all the locals and every tourist by sight, suddenly found myself tongue-tied, as if I'd forgotten how to speak.
Many years later, I still don't understand what made me walk over to her table and ask if she'd like to try a bit of wine. Maybe it was because here in Rota, where people always seem to wear the same faces, share the same gestures, and tell the same stories, something new was too tempting to pass up.
Emily declined my offer with a shy smile, and at that moment, what I now call "the second act of my life" began.
I approached with two glasses of wine and smiled at Emily, who watched me with a hint of hesitation and a cautious air.
"Come on, just try it," I insisted, raising a glass toward her. "It's a Sherry wine, nothing like what you have over in the States."
Emily looked at the glass, she rolled her eyes and smiled. She wasn't irritated, but something in her eyes didn't match her smile.
"Thank you, but. I can't." She looked down at the glass, then up at me, and said:. "I'm... Well, I'm pregnant."
I was unable to say a word after hearing her say that. There was a moment of silence between us.
"Pregnant?" I finally said, as though trying out the sound of the word aloud to see if it were true.
Emily nodded.
"Yes. I'm surprised myself. I came to Rota to work, that is. The father is a marine from the base. We met a few months ago, and... " She paused, searching for the words, "things got complicated, you know? He... he's a married man."
I said nothing, turning her words over in my mind. This information changed everything, though I wasn't quite certain why. I barely knew her, yet I felt connected--something beyond words or chance.
"Oh, I wasn't hoping that would occur." I grinned, trying to jolly it up. "Guess offering wine wasn't such a great idea, then."
Emily laughed, a soft, airy sound, as if she might for a moment forget her dilemma.
"Don't mind, err... What do you call yourself?"
"Antonio."
"Well, Antonio, it was a thoughtful thing to do."
I nodded, looking at her, trying to understand why I still felt this strange attraction, despite knowing she was pregnant. Spur of the moment, I leaned in slightly closer.
"Well, um. What is your name?"
"I am Emily, but everybody calls me Emi." She smiled.
"Oh, Emi, if you can't have the wine, then just chat, let's just chat. I still have some stories that I think you'll want to hear. and really, I think that you've probably got a couple of stories or two that you might want to share."
Emily looked at me, surprised, and then her expression softened.
"Good, Antonio. Sometimes it's easier to talk to a person who does not know your whole past."
Something changed in me then. The image of Emily--her clear eyes, her nervous laugh, that way she looked at the glass of wine as if it were a doorway to the unknown--stayed imprinted in my mind. Not even two days had passed before I found myself looking for excuses to see her again. Rota is a small town, and sooner or later, the lives of those who live here inevitably cross paths. What I didn't realize was that Emily wouldn't leave those encounters up to chance.
The first request for a favor came close to feeling like an accident. I bumped into her at the market. She was standing beside one of the fruit and vegetable vendors. She appeared confused and not from the region among the locals, and therefore I could not help but approach her.
"Need some help choosing?" I asked, giving her a smile I couldn't control. She laughed softly and nodded.
"To be honest, yes. I have no idea how to pick the right melon," she admitted, pointing at a huge melon like it was some kind of exotic relic.
The scene felt a little bit awkward for a moment, Emi is busty and we were there talking about melons. Actually her cleavage showed off her breasts quite well, and although most of the men were staring at her, Emi didn't seem to mind at all. I was so smitten at the time that I didn't dare make any saucy jokes about helping buy melons for a girl who had a nice pair of melons of her own, so I acted polite.
I gave her a few basic tips, and before I knew it, I was helping carry her groceries to her apartment. It was a small, dim place, but she seemed comfortable there. She told me she'd started renting the apartment as soon as she found out she was pregnant. Even though she still had a small house on the base, she didn't want to complicate things with the marine who'd gotten her pregnant--or with his family. Then Emi offered me a coffee, and that one was the first of many. Before I knew it, I'd become her guide, her confidant, and, though it pains me to admit it, her go-to man.
Every day, she found a reason to ask for my help. "Antonio, could you help me with the gas? I don't understand how it works." I'd drop everything and run. "Antonio, I need to change a lightbulb and can't reach it." There I was, standing by, like a loyal soldier, climbing her ladder and looking for excuses to stay a little longer.
Deep down, I was aware that she'd picked up on my feelings. I never said it outright, but one look in my eyes would have told her everything. I was completely infatuated, like a young boy experiencing first love, and Emily wasn't naive. She knew what my feeling for her were each time I offered to carry her bags or help her with English Spanish translations. She didn't need to ask aloud; a smile and a subtle tilt of her head would be enough to have me at her feet.
Over time, her requests became more frequent, almost too casual. "Antonio, could you bring me some bread from the market? The one I bought is a bit stale." "Antonio, would you drive me to the Public Notary? I need to pick up some papers, and I'd feel better if you drive me there." They were never big favors, but they always seemed to come at the right moment, when I was already thinking of her, when any excuse to see her felt irresistible.
Sometimes, alone at home after masturbating thinking of her, I'd ask myself if I was being a fool. Deep down, I knew it. I knew she was taking advantage, that she used me as a lifeline in this town that felt strange and distant to her. But what I was supposed to do? Every time I looked at her, or I heard her say my name with that accent of hers, I would do anything for her, even if it cost me a little pride, even if I felt like a pawn in her game.
And so the weeks passed. For me, each favor was an opportunity to be near her, to listen, to notice her gestures and quirks, to be someone in her life. For her, each favor was a way to make her stay easier in a place that still didn't feel like hers. Who was the fool and who was the wise one? I didn't care much. The only thing I was aware of was that, even though she was from a different world, even though her interests and thoughts lay elsewhere, I was in love.
Emi's belly was increasing day by day, and her pregnancy was progressing well. I used to go with her for her checkups, and one day when she was seven months pregnant, the nurse attending us thought that I was the father of the baby.
The nurse smiled, and then she jotted something down in her notebook, she looked at us every now and then.
"So, are you two set for the big day?" She asked, "You must be excited," she said, looking directly at me.
I wanted to talk, but before I could say anything, Emi interrupted me.
"Oh, we're very excited." She said slapping my arm. "He's a huge help--What I'd do without him?"
"I always like to see a dedicated father-to-be. You'll be a great dad." Said the nurse with a big smile on her face.
Emi looked to me with a thankfull message in her eyes and then said: "He's already been practicing, haven't you, honey?"
I was caught off guard and could only nod, while Emi continued to smile enjoying the scene. The nurse congratulated us, convinced we were a real couple, and Emi played along without missing a beat.
By the time the appointment was over, I wasn't sure whether I was more flustered or completely taken in by her little act.
My thoughts jumbled for days afterwards. Confusion, excitement, and something else flowed inside me. My feelings for Emi were genuine, powerful, and difficult to ignore. And the idea of being a parent to her kid sparked something in me, something that seemed like purpose.
After considerable contemplation, I realized what I needed to do. I needed to tell her.
One evening, as we walked along Rota's promenade, the sun dropped low over the horizon, leaving a golden light on the beach. The timing felt appropriate.
"Emi," I said, feeling the words freeze in my throat. I want to marry you. I want to be the father of your child."
She became motionless for a time, her eyes shining as she absorbed what I had just spoken. Then, she smiled slightly, a mix of excitement and dread on her face.
"Antonio, I like you," she stated quietly. But marriage... I'm not sure if I can be a good wife for you.
I got nervous, but I remained composed. "I'm not scared, Emi. What really important is how I feel about you. I adore you and would like to marry you right now."
Her eyes expanded slightly, astonishment flashing over her face before settling into something quieter and more serious."Okay, Antonio. I'll marry you," she answered, "but with some conditions."
My curiosity piqued. "Conditions? What are they?"
"First, I want to keep my little house on the base," she explained. "It makes me feel more comfortable, and I don't want to leave everything behind all at once. I want to keep it also to have a private place for... (she paused) myself." She paused again, her expression serious for a moment before continuing, "Also, I want to get married just before this baby is born. "I want a wedding where everyone can see my enormous belly."
I chuckled, relieved, and fascinated by her candor. "Of sure, if that's your preference. We'll have the wedding you want. "The most important thing is that I have you."
With a mix of delight and doubt, I began to anticipate what our future together may be like. Despite her particular conditions, I felt more committed than ever. I knew that with Emi by my side, life was about to become much more interesting and challenging.
