His Own Man by Edgard Telles Ribeiro Read Free Book Online Page A

herself even farther in their desperate relationship? What could possibly have gone wrong?
    The more she anxiously turned to her husband, childishly exposing herself by calling him persistently and giving him gifts of records he hardly listened to or books he barely read, the more Max seemed to retreat. The game had intrigued her at first but soon became frustrating, leading her to have recurring nightmares of quicksand and free falls in space.
    Life hadn’t prepared her for major challenges, and surely hadn’t endowed her with defenses against situations of this kind. She couldn’t identify its origins or the reasons for her malaise. She had even fought with her older sister, who had simply tried to put the problem in perspective by saying, “Maybe he just doesn’t like women … these things happen all the time among diplomats.”
    Marina didn’t know how to deal with a man who, after showing initial interest — and desire — in a thousand ways, gradually distanced himself from her, albeit almost imperceptibly. She didn’t know what to make of a husband who had shown so little passion on their wedding night, before falling immediately into a heavy sleep beside her, leaving her alone as if suspended in the dark.
    That night, while the wedding guests slept peacefully, dreaming of overflowing seafood platters, a troubling seed had embedded itself in a forgotten corner of her being — the same one that, years later, would lead her to seek comfort in the arms of other men out of loneliness and spite.
    Max, for his part, was deluded into believing that being with Marina made him immune to all types of threats and dangers. He thought that, with her at his side, no one would be able to touch him. In one respect, he was right, as she would remain his companion on a socially irreproachable path that enhanced his career during the twelve years they lived together. But if Max led a double life at work, in the private realm of his relationship with Marina he ended up committing far more painful kinds of duplicity, leaving in their wake countless wounds and scars.
    He would be surprised, even angry, should someone reveal that, in spite of his formidable defense mechanisms, he loved his wife. To preclude the anxiety and fear of such a discovery, he had chosen to keep his feelings in check. Thus his tendency to respond almost indifferently to the affection directed at him. And to position himself as his wife’s tutor rather than her partner. After all, he thought, she was young and had much to learn. Such prosaic truths give rise to misunderstandings. And disappointments.
    Of the saga I’ve taken up, I know only what was told to me piecemeal and diluted over time. But my impression of the couple’s failed relationship is clear: unlike his secret world, which he managed for better or worse, Max would pay a much higher price with the failure of his marriage.
    Far beyond remaining the rich wife who brought him the social and financial support he deemed necessary, Marina ultimately became a painful counterpoint to his life — deep-rooted in abandonment. Would he ever have suspected that he used his wife like a mirror, to hide evils of another nature?
    One thing is apparent, however: this state of affairs might have contributed to his withdrawal from himself — and from all of us. Socially adrift since childhood, simultaneously dazzled and intimidated at work by circles beyond his reach, Max would respond poorly when confronted with his wife’s increasing vulnerability. He had to believe that Marina was strong: he needed her. The way a warrior needs his shield.
    Less than a year had gone by between the Rio–São Paulo train ride and the wedding reception at the Santa Teresa mansion where the Magalhães de Castros lived — a party I attended along with a significant portion of carioca society and most of Itamaraty.
    Dressed in an understated silk gown and adorned with flowers, Marina had come down somewhat belatedly to the