Chapter 5

I still couldn't believe my luck. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to assimilate the chaos I had gotten myself into. All of this was his fault. Or maybe… mine too.

The murmur of the guests kept echoing on the terrace while the echo of my own thoughts deafened me. I could still feel the weight of the ring on my finger, the touch of his hand holding mine when we said I do.

"What did I just do?", I thought.

"I'm sorry, Alía," Samuel said behind me, his voice deep, serene. "I know you didn't want this. And if you had said no… nothing was going to change."

I turned around slowly. He was so close that I could smell his cologne—a soft, woody, warm scent. His eyes were lowered, with a mix of tenderness and sadness. For an instant I wanted to scream at him, tell him yes, that I hated him for being so proper, so perfect, so impossible to reject.

But I couldn't. Because deep down, I knew it wasn't his fault. He was so hopeful, so in love, that it even hurt.

I… not yet. For now, I could only see him as a friend. A handsome one, yes. Rich, charismatic, polite, respectful… but still a friend.

"I understand," I finally said, taking a breath. "What's done is done. I just hope that, if we are going to try to make this work, you give me my time. My space."

Samuel nodded slowly. "I will, little one. You know I would never do anything to hurt you."

That gaze of his, intense and at the same time soft, disarmed me. His lips were twisted into a nervous grimace, his fingers clutching his wine glass. For a moment, it was as if the world stopped.

We were alone on the balcony of the house. From there you could see the whole illuminated garden, the golden lights reflecting on the glass and the guests conversing happily below. I could hear the high-pitched laugh of my friend Sofía, who was almost screaming with excitement upon seeing her favorite actor among the guests. Poor Sofía… always so effusive.

Samuel took my hand with an almost reverent delicacy. His fingers were warm, firm, and I felt a slight tingle go up my arm. I stared at him, not knowing whether to flee or get closer. Everything seemed unreal. How could this man—this man so handsome, so imposing—look at me as if I were his whole universe?

"Everything is going to be okay, Alía," he said at last. "I'll give you your space, you know that. But… right now, I'm dying to kiss you."

My heart stopped.

He lowered his gaze slowly, from my eyes to my lips. His lips… full, red, tempting. I felt my cheeks burning. Without thinking, my hands moved on instinct, going up to the nape of his neck. The contact with his hair was electric, soft as I imagined so many times. I wanted to lean in. I wanted to kiss him.

I wanted to do it so much.

But the moment broke.

"We'd better go inside," he said suddenly, in a low voice. "It's getting cold. Keep me company a little longer and then… I'll leave. Tomorrow I'll come for you. So we can go to our new home."

And without saying more, he turned around and walked toward the hall.

I watched him leave, with my heart beating wildly. I knew he was also fighting an internal battle, trying not to cross a line too soon. And for the first time, I understood something: he wasn't the only one fighting.

Me too.

"Could it be that… I like this man?", I thought, biting my lip. The idea scared me as much as it excited me.

. . .

The hours passed amid toasts, soft music, and endless congratulations. The camera flashes, the fake laughs, the obligatory greetings. Everything felt hollow. My mother, however, seemed radiant.

"So, everything good?" she asked me while offering me another glass.

"Mom…" I whispered, my voice trembling, "do you think everything is going to be okay? Do you think someday I'll be happy?"

She looked at me with tenderness and took my hands. "Daughter, time will tell. But listen to me, Samuel is the kind of man who will never look at another woman." She leaned in a little closer, lowering her voice. "If you saw how he looks at you… you would realize that you are the light of his eyes."

I didn't answer. I just followed her gaze to where he was.

Samuel was laughing with Tomás, his partner, and a brunette woman with dangerous curves, who made him laugh shamelessly. A knot formed in my stomach. It wasn't anger, nor sadness. It was… jealousy. A quick, fleeting wave that disappeared as soon as it came. But it was enough for me to understand something I didn't want to accept: I cared.

He noticed my expression right away. He stopped laughing. His gaze searched for mine, serious, worried. I just managed a forced smile, faking tranquility. He returned it, though he didn't look convinced.

I sighed. I wanted to get to know him more. Not my father's partner, not the perfect businessman. I wanted to know the man behind the mask. That aura of mystery surrounding him attracted me more than I was willing to admit.

I was on my fifth—or sixth—glass of wine, when a firm hand gently took it away.

"Alcohol is bad, little one," a familiar voice whispered next to my ear. "I think you've had enough to drink. Why don't you say goodbye and go rest a bit? You look very tired, Ali."

Ali. That's what he called me. Nobody had called me that since…

A fleeting flash crossed my mind: a distant voice, a laugh, a name lost among the memories. But as quickly as it came, it was gone.

I looked at him, I smiled without thinking.

"You're right, the truth is I'm exhausted. Thank you, Samuel."

He nodded, surprised by my soft tone. And before he could react, I leaned in a bit, standing on my tiptoes, and left a quick kiss on his cheek.

His expression was one of total bewilderment. His eyes wide, his lips parted, as if he had just been hit by reality.

I laughed. I couldn't help it. "Cute," I thought. So cute it hurt.

I turned around and walked toward my room, my heart racing and a hidden smile on my lips. For the first time since all this started… I didn't feel so unhappy.