Carlos Zafón: The Angel's Game

The girl smiled and, drawing closer to me, kissed me on the cheek.

‘Cristina, why don’t you go down to the beach and wait there while I say goodbye to my friend?’ the boss asked.

Cristina nodded and walked away, looking back and smiling with every step. Next to me, the boss’s voice sweetly whispered his eternal curse.

‘I’ve decided to give you back what you loved the most, what I stole from you. I’ve decided that for once you will walk in my shoes and will feel what I feel – you won’t age a single day and you will see Cristina grow; you will fall in love with her again and one day you will see her die in your arms. That is my blessing, and my revenge.’

I closed my eyes, saying no to myself.

‘That is impossible. She will never be the same person.’

‘That will depend on you, Martín. I’m giving you a blank sheet. This story no longer belongs to me.’

I heard his steps fade away, and when I opened my eyes the boss was no longer there. At the foot of the jetty, Cristina was looking at me intently. I smiled at her and she hesitated, then came over.

‘Where’s the gentleman?’ she asked.

‘He’s gone.’

Cristina looked around her, at the endless, deserted beach.

‘Forever?’

‘Forever.’

She smiled and sat down beside me.

‘I dreamed that we were friends,’ she said.

I looked at her and nodded.

‘And we are friends. We always have been.’

She laughed and took my hand. I pointed in front of us, at the sun dipping into the sea, and Cristina watched it with tears in her eyes.

‘Will I remember one day?’

‘One day.’

I knew then that I would devote every minute we had left together to making her happy, to repairing the pain I had caused her and returning to her what I had never known how to give her. These pages will be our memory until she draws her last breath in my arms and I take her with me to the open sea, where the deep currents flow, to sink with her forever, and escape at last to a place where neither heaven nor hell will ever be able to find us.