When we had visitors, the bottle remained stored in the closet.
One day, when our daughter Emily was sixteen, she went into the kitchen and saw the bottle.
“What’s inside?” he asked curiously.
Victor took it and smiled.
It is a special recipe of ours family. Someday I’ll tell you the story.
Emily shrugged and returned to her room.
I, however, kept thinking of his words.
The years passed, but our night tradition never changed.
Once a month, Victor received a small package in the mail.
He carefully stored it and, soon after, a new bottle without a label appeared in the closet.
Every time I asked him where he came from, he replied that he was from an old acquaintance.
When I proposed to ask him about the recipe, Victor simply smiled.
“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 pushed the drink.
The next morning I noticed that one of the nearby plants did not look as good as the day before.
I was surprised and spent part of the day thinking about what might have happened.
I remembered all those years and started asking myself questions.
Why was this drink so special?
Why did Victor always keep her in the same place?
And why did he never talk about his origin?
Victor, meanwhile, was still the same attentive man as always.
When I had a difficult day, I helped.
When I was tired, I was preparing dinner.
When Emily needed something, she was always available to her.
That is why I found it even more curious that I kept that little tradition a secret.
