Tú me enseñaste - Serie Perdóname - Libro 5

Tú me enseñaste - Serie Perdóname - Libro 5

Eilana Osorio Paez

125.2k Words / Completed
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Introduction

Dos historias de amor entrelazados por la amistad. Corazones para restaurar, intensiones de enseñar a confiar, de aprender a amar, porque la vida se trata de crecer, de restaurar, de pedir perdón, de entregar perdón y de perdonarnos a nosotros mismos, porque no somos perfectos.
Santos Domínguez un hombre marcado por el pasado, y eso hizo que no confiara en nadie más que en las personas que estuvieron a su lado en su secuestro. No cree en el amor, solo disfruta del placer de las mujeres, y tampoco engaña, ellas saben que lo único que puede ofrecer… Es un par de horas en una cama.
María Constanza Abdala desde que lo vio de nuevo decretó que sería suyo, aunque todos le digan; «es mayor y no mires a Santos Domínguez». Pero en silencio le fue imposible ocultar la atracción y cayó ante ese enigmático seductor sin importar la diferencia de años entre ellos.
Guillermo Guzmán a su edad adulta no lograba encausar de nuevo sus sentimientos. El tiempo le recordaba siempre la misma mujer del pasado. A pesar de haber terminado porque el amor se acabó… Sin embargo, todo en él cambió cuando le llegó una invitación para una boda y ahí comprendió que él era historia en su vida.
Natalia Salamanca, le costó superar esa tarde cuando le dijo que ya no sentía lo mismo y había dejado de amarla, cayó en una gran soledad y tardó en superar ese fracaso. Ahora se encuentra con la ilusión de formar un hogar… Ya no podía quedarse en el pasado, él continuó su vida, ella debía realizar la suya.
Conoce las vidas de estos cuatro protagonistas que aprenderán a pedir perdón, a otorgar el perdón y a perdonarse ellos mismos.
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About Author

Eilana Osorio Paez

Chapter 1

Santos

Estaban acribillando el puto timbre del apartamento, y ese debía de ser Guillermo, que solo venía a joder, ¡hoy sábado y eran las cuatro de la mañana!, pero ¿este se la fumó verde? Además, él tenía llaves. Con mi cara de puño le abrí la puerta.

—Sabía que no te habías arreglado. Tenemos que estar en el aeropuerto a las ocho.

—¿Y cómo para qué? ¡Se te perdieron mis putas llaves!

—Te dije que no tomaras tanto anoche.

—Guille, tengo un par de horas de haber llegado y quiero dormir.

—¡No podemos! ¿Se te olvidó? —Me le quedé mirando…

¿De qué carajo debía acordar? Si vino con un bolso de viaje y arreglado para salir era porque algo pasé por alto, peor no recuerdo si tenía un compromiso. Él siempre me ayuda con los recordatorios, parecía el secretario, en ocasiones dejando a un lado su puesto de jefe de ingeniero en la multinacional en donde trabajamos.

—¿Qué compromiso tenemos?

—Y eso que dices amar a Maju con tu alma. —me puse serio.

Ante el nombre de una de las mujeres que más quiero y respeto en el mundo, presté atención. Guillermo solo negó, caminó hasta llegar al lugar donde la señora que trabajaba en arreglar el apartamento y cocinar ponía la correspondencia del pent-house. —vivo en una lujosa zona en Vancouver. Mi amigo también ganaba muy bien, pero era muy modesto y vive en un apartamento con buena ubicación, pero más sencillo.

No puedo evitar, por un tema personal, el siempre querer vivir en un lugar grande y lujoso, me ahogo en departamento pequeño. Aunque la gente me vea como un superficial, no presto atención, dejo que piensen algo diferente. En todo caso, Santos Domínguez se merece lo mejor, y como regla general, a este lugar solo lo han pisado Maju, Regina y mis hermanas. Ninguna otra mujer lo ha hecho.

¡Ah! También se me olvidaba, lo ha hecho la pequeña destructora y artista abstracta de los Abdala. Del resto solo mis amigos. Mi casa era sagrada y solo ingresaban amigos y gente de confianza. No he podido alejar esa sensación de que en cualquier momento me vayan a secuestrar de nuevo. Esa sensación creí que nadie la supera.

Mi mejor amigo lanzó una invitación gris muy elegante con una cinta de algún tono rosa sobre la mesa. Al destaparla…

Me complace invitarlos a la celebración de los quince años de nuestra hija María Constanza Abdala L`Charme

Hora: 8:00pm

Traje formal

—¡Mierda, esa fecha es hoy!

—Tenemos vuelo a las nueve de la mañana, no pude encontrar antes. Muévete que debemos salir YA.

Como un loco en una maleta metí un par de jaenes, dos camisetas, un traje de gala, no puedo faltar, no por el cumpleaños de la hija menor que ni me acuerdo como era, solo recuerdo a una niña de casi seis años la última vez que la vi. Pero a César y a Maju no podía hacerles tal desplante, a ellos jamás. Guardé zapatos, ropa interior, perfume, un par de reloj, pasaporte, visa, todos mis documentos, billetera, tarjetas.

—Yo vine en mi carro, ¡Vamos!

Sin bañarme, aunque en el hotel donde tuve sexo con la pelirroja… No recuerdo nunca los nombres, las llamo por el color de sus cabellos. Lo hice antes de salir, me lavé los dientes, la cara y metí mi bolsa de artículos personales. Eran once horas de vuelo, vamos a estar llegando y con las mismas a bañarnos para salir a la dichosa celebración. ¡Mierda y puta mierda! ¿Qué carajo le voy a regalar?

—¡Guillermo!  —salí de la gigante habitación, toda en tonos grises, azul oscuro, mi apartamento era bajo esos tonos sobrios—. ¿Qué le compraste de regalo?

—Mamá lo hizo. —Él le decía así a Blanca, la esposa de su tío, otra digna mujer para ser una esposa—. Vamos, en el aeropuerto le compras algo en una joyería.

—Tienes razón.

Al llegar contra reloj, a la vendedora en el mostrador se le iluminaron los ojos al verme, siempre pasaba. En compañía de Guille miramos cadenas y ninguna me convencía.

—¿Acaso la conoces, para saber sus gustos?

—No, pero es la hija de Maju. Ella, creo que tiene los ojos grises como su mamá.

—¡Escoge rápido!

—Mira, —le dije a la chica—. Véndeme esa cadena de oro blanco y muéstrame los dijes en piedras grises.

La vendedora lo hizo y apenas la vi, me gustó. Le señalé la elegida, le entregué la tarjeta para que descontara el pago, luego corrimos en dirección a la sala de espera. Al menos en las once horas restantes dormiré. Una vez en los puestos de primera clase me acomodé y sonreí. Con lo caro que me resultó el regalo no iba a quedar como si se me hubiera olvidado el tema, —suspiré.

Como pasaba el tiempo, sonreí ante el recuerdo cuando le regalé de cumpleaños un gigante oso y los días siguientes María Constanza de tres añitos lo arrastraba por toda la casa, ironías de la vida, es a la única damita por la que me he tomado el trabajo siempre de comprarle los detalles. Ahora debe ser una señorita. No imagino a César con dolor de cabeza, espantándole los pretendientes. En fin… debía dormir.

……***……

María Constanza

Ya estaba arreglada, mi mami dijo que esperara porque algunos iban a ingresar para entregarme un detalle que iba a lucir hoy. —Me puse a brincar de la emoción; mi vestido era en palo de rosa, un exclusivo traje de noche que realzaba mi figura un poco a niñada, pero en un par de años espero verme cómo quiero.

Me acerqué al tocador donde había unas galletas de chocolate, me comí una, desde el almuerzo no había comido nada y adoro la comida. Los dedos se me ensuciaron de chocolate y con el cuidado para no correrme el maquillaje de los labios hice ciertas muecas para limpiar mis dedos.

Menos mal me encontraba so… unas carcajadas me hicieron girar. Sentí los cachetes calientes. —Dios de mi vida y del amor hermoso, ese si es un dios griego, no los que había en televisión.

—¿Estaban muy ricos los dedos? —Me puse más roja y para colmo de mí salió un aullido, como si hubieran estripado una gata—. Vine a entregarte mi regalo. —respiré profundo, era un hombre de cabello negro y ojos azules. ¿Este hombre de donde salió?

—Hola… —La verdad no me acordaba de él.

—Eras una niña, aún sigues siendo una, soy Santos Domínguez. —Miércoles, ¿este era el tal Santos? Pero sí era un papasito.

—¿Tú fuiste el que me regaló el peluche? —Una vez que lo dije me puse más roja, «que infantil se escuchó eso».

—El mismo, —sacó una caja y extrajo una cadena—. ¿Me permites? —afirmé, me giré, me puso la cadena, era preciosa y él era bastante alto—. Feliz cumpleaños. —No alcancé a responderle.

—¡Pero miren nada más lo bella que está mi Constantinopla!

Y si antes estaba roja ante esa perfección de hombre, ahora debía de estar morada, ¡qué vergüenza!, quería lanzarle todos los muebles al tío Alejo. La carcajada de Santos me hizo abochornar más. Juro que tengo hasta ganas de llorar. Mi tío me abrazó, luego lo hizo mi tía Virginia.

—Para ese bello collar, hay unos preciosos aretes.

Era de un gris diferente, pero sin duda alguna, igual de preciosos, mi tía me los puso. Alejo se llevó a Santos y me quedé mirándolo embelesada, él, ni por enterado, iba riendo con mi tío.

—No mires para esos lares cariño, sé que te gustan los hombres mayores, eso desde niña lo demostraste, porque te deleitabas al escuchar a tu padre y tíos hablar.

—Tía… —Me sonrojé.

—Santos no es para ti princesa, él no ama a nadie, y tú eres un ángel.

—Lo acabo de conocer, la verdad no lo recordaba, mi madre suele decir que a los seis años le hice un desastre en su apartamento. —Mi tía se echó a reír afirmando.

—Las fotos las tiene Fernanda en su biblioteca fotográfica. A tu padre le tocó pagar para que pintaran de nuevo varias paredes de su apartamento en Canadá. Si embargo, ese brillo en tus ojos Maco no te lo había visto nunca…

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