**English translation**
—
*I got divorced in my old age to find a companion, but I received an answer that changed my life.*
Divorcing at sixtyeight was not a romantic gesture nor a midlife crisis. It was an admission that I had lost, that after forty years of marriage to a woman with whom I shared not only the home but also the silences, the empty looks during dinner, and everything that was never said out loud, I was no longer the person I was supposed to be. My name is Esteban, Im from Toledo, and my story began with loneliness and ended with an unexpected revelation.
Lola and I lived together almost our whole lives. We married in our twenties, in 1970s Spain. At first there was love: kisses on the bench in the plaza, long conversations at dusk, shared dreams. And then, everything faded. First the children, then the mortgages, the work, the fatigue, the routine The conversations turned into brief notes in the kitchen: Did you pay the electricity bill? Wheres the receipt? Were out of salt.
In the mornings I looked at her and didnt see my wife; I saw a exhausted neighbor. And probably I was the same for her. We no longer lived together; we lived side by side. Stubborn and proud, one day I told myself: You have the right to something more. Another chance. To breathe fresh air, after all. And I asked for divorce.
Lola didnt resist. She simply sat in a chair, looked out the window, and said:
Fine. Do whatever you want. I dont want to fight anymore.
I left. At first I felt free, as if a weight had been lifted. I slept on the other side of the bed, adopted a cat, took coffee on the balcony in the mornings. But then another feeling arrived: emptiness. The house became too silent. The food was tasteless. Life was monotonous.
Then an idea struck me that seemed brilliant: find a woman who would help me. Someone like Lola beforewho would wash, cook, clean, chat for a while. Yes, perhaps a bit younger, in her fifties, experienced, goodnatured. Maybe a widow. My demands werent many. I even thought: Im not a bad catch: I take care of myself, I have a flat, Im retired. Why not?
I started looking. I talked to neighbors, hinted to acquaintances. And then I dared to place an ad in the local newspaper. Short and direct: Man, 68 years old, seeks woman for cohabitation and household help. Good conditions, accommodation and maintenance included.
That ad changed my life. Because three days later I received a letter. Only one. But it was enough to make my hands tremble.
> **Dear Esteban,**
>
> Do you really think that a woman in the 2020s exists only to wash socks and fry croquettes? We dont live in the 19th century.
>
> You are not looking for a companion, a person with a soul and desires, but a free homehelp with a romantic twist.
>
> Perhaps you should first learn to take care of yourself, cook your own meals, and keep your house in order.
>
> Sincerely,
> A woman who does not look for a little gentleman with a rag in his hand.
I read it over and over. At first I boiled with anger. How dare she? Who does she think she is? I wasnt trying to take advantage of anyone! I only wanted warmth, a cozy home, the feminine touch
But then I thought: what if she was right? Maybe I was unknowingly looking for someone to keep making my life comfortable instead of building it myself?
I started with the basics. I learned to make soup. Then I prepared potato pie. I subscribed to a cooking YouTube channel, shopped with a list, ironed my shirts. I felt clumsy, even ridiculous, but over time it stopped being an obligation. It became my life. My choice.
I even framed that letter and hung it in the kitchena reminder: *dont ask others to rescue you if you havent first pulled yourself out of the hole.*
Three months have passed. I still live alone, but now my house smells of stew. On the balcony Ive planted geraniums myself. On Sundays I bake apple cakethe recipe Lola used. Sometimes I think, I could bring her a slice. Perhaps for the first time in forty years I understood what it means not only to be a husband, but a person beside someone.
Now, if anyone asks me whether I want to remarry, Ill say no. But if a woman ever sits next to me on the plaza benchwho isnt looking for an owner, only for conversationIll surely talk to her. Only nowI will do it as a different man.
