Skip to content 
He would store it carefully, and soon after, a new, unlabeled bottle would appear in the cupboard.
Every time I asked him where he came from, he replied that he was from an old acquaintance.
When I suggested asking him for the recipe, Victor would simply smile.
—Someday I’ll tell you everything.
One night I decided to put my glass aside.
When Victor left the kitchen for a few minutes, I put the drink away.
The next morning I noticed that one of the nearby plants didn’t look as good as it had the day before.
I was surprised and spent part of the day thinking about what might have happened.
I remembered all those years and began to ask myself questions.
Why was that drink so special?
Why did Victor always keep it in the same place?
And why did he never talk about his origins?
Victor, meanwhile, remained the same attentive man he always was.
When I was having a difficult day, he would help me.
When she was tired, she would prepare dinner.
When Emily needed something, he was always available for her.
That’s why I found it even more curious that he kept that little tradition a secret.
A few weeks later, I put the glass aside again.
The next morning, Victor looked at me and asked:
—You didn’t finish your glass yesterday.
—How do you know?
She smiled.
—We have been sitting together at this time for thirty-five years.
That answer increased my curiosity even more.
From then on I began to think frequently about the story of that bottle.
Until our thirty-fifth wedding anniversary arrived.
Victor took out an old photo album.
We spent the afternoon reminiscing about some of the best moments of our life together.
Finally, he pointed to the bottle and said:
—Someday you will know why this little tradition has been so important to me.
—And why don’t you tell me now?