Hot People Ruin Everything

And then... the blue eyes I’d once punched found mine across the crowd.

Oh, good.

Just fantastic.

If the universe had a sense of humor, it was definitely drunk.

I didn’t know who moved first. Maybe not him. Maybe not me. Maybe the room just suddenly felt too tight, too bright, too full of people who would stare if one glass dropped or one name was said in the wrong tone.

Zach was standing beside Fiona, one hand still at my sister’s waist, his black suit neat as expensive sin. His dark hair was shorter than the last time I’d seen him. His jaw was sharper. His shoulders broader. And his face still had that same infuriating habit: looking like a cologne ad that should’ve been banned for women’s safety.

Fiona turned to him, smiled, then followed his line of sight.

To me.

No.

No, thank you.

NOPE.

My brain, which could usually calm investors, a dev team, and two tiny kids who thought the refrigerator was a place of worship, had exactly one brilliant idea right now:

Run.

“Maxime!” My voice came out faster than my thoughts. A little too loud. A few heads turned. I immediately lifted my glass of water a little, pretending everything was normal. “Issa. Get over here. Now.”

Valeria glanced at me. “Ara—”

“I need a reason to live,” I cut in, rising to my feet. “Lucky for me, I have two, and both of them are wearing formal clothes in miniature.”

In the middle of the swarm of children, Issa was standing on some little chair that definitely didn’t belong to her, one hand raised like a queen who’d just won a war. Max was behind her, whispering something into another cousin’s ear until the kid laughed too hard and nearly dropped a cupcake.

“Maxime Rafael Gómez,” I called again, this time using the voice that made my son stop before he’d even fully turned around. “If I have to say your name three times, I’m selling all your dinosaurs on eBay.”

Max looked over. Those blue eyes caught the chandelier light.

My throat went dry.

He jumped down from the chair, still managing to snatch a macaron off a passing server’s tray. Issa lowered her chin slowly, every bit of her dramatic flair intact even though she was only four. She straightened her tiny cape like she’d just finished an exclusive interview.

“Mommy,” Issa said when she reached me, holding out her hand for me to take. “I’m tired.”

“Of course you are,” I said, already taking it. “Being beautiful is physically demanding.”

Issa nodded solemnly. “Exactly.”

Max stopped at my other side, his cheeks a little flushed, his tiny tie already tilting three degrees toward total collapse. “I’m not tired. I’m hungry again.”

“You’re always hungry again.”

“That’s because I’m growing.”

“You’re growing into a public nuisance.”

He grinned, very pleased with himself.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Fiona start moving. One hand lifting her dress a little, body leaning forward, obviously about to leave the center of the room and drag her fiancé toward me like an overly excited game show host.

I didn’t need to look directly to know.

That stare had weight. It always had. Like someone laying a flat palm against the back of my neck without permission.

“Kids,” I said lightly, already stepping back, “let’s go find some air. I’m starting to break out in hives from happy people.”

Valeria laughed under her breath, but one brow lifted. “Ara, I think Fiona was about to—”

“If she wants me to live a long life, she’ll understand.” I hooked my small bag over my shoulder. “If anyone asks, tell them I’m off performing the noble duty of a single mother perpetually being chased by her children.”

Valeria opened her mouth, probably to say something sensible.

Too bad I wasn’t in the mood for sensible.

I’d already turned away.

“Mommy, I want dessert,” Max said.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve already had enough sugar to launch a satellite.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“You came from me. Of course it doesn’t make sense.”

Issa looked at me with mild disgust. “Mommy, my hair is going to get ruined if we go outside. There’s wind.”

“We’re not going all the way into the wilderness, mini Beyoncé. We’re just leaving this room before I start licking poison.”

“What’s poison?” Max asked.

“Some men.”

Theo appeared out of nowhere, holding a glass of whiskey and a smile that knew too much.

“Ah,” he said, taking one look at my face. “We’ve reached that stage.”

I kept walking. “If you say one thing that sounds wise, I will shove your tie into your mouth.”

“What I’m hearing,” Theo said, falling into step beside me, “is that I need to distract the family for the next fifteen minutes.”

“Twenty.”

“Twenty for what kind of crisis?”

“The kind with a good jawline and an Italian passport.”

Theo clicked his tongue softly. “M****a.”

“There. See? That’s a useful response.”

We passed a marble pillar, moving out of the center of the ballroom into a quieter area near the hallway leading to the terrace. The music sounded softer here, muffled by the glass doors and the voices of people too rich to speak quietly. A server walked by with a tray of champagne. One of my aunts called Theo from a distance. Theo pretended to be deaf.

“Did Fiona see?” he asked under his breath.

“Not close enough yet to turn into a disaster.”

Theo glanced behind me, then looked back at my face. His expression shifted, thinner now, sharper. “He saw too.”

I gave him a flat look. “Don’t say ‘he’ like this is a horror movie.”

“I think it fits.”

I crouched down and fixed Max’s tie, which looked like it had been knotted by a caffeinated cat. My fingers were cold. I mean, really cold. Issa had already pressed her palm to the glass, admiring her reflection like a tiny model who’d just discovered cameras.

“Mommy,” she said without turning around, “I’m still pretty from the side.”

“Thank God.”

Theo held back a smile. “I can take them to the dessert table.”

“No. You’ll teach them how to steal frosting without getting caught.”

“I won’t teach them. They already know.”

Fair point.

Max tipped his chin up. “I heard that.”

“You hear too much,” I said.

“Mommy.” Issa turned this time, her hazel eyes full of polite contempt. “I’m thirsty. But not juice. Juice makes my teeth look ordinary.”

I closed my eyes for a second. “What does ‘ordinary teeth’ even mean?”

“Just ordinary,” she explained, like I was the slow one here. “I want sparkling water.”

Theo laughed hard enough he nearly choked on his whiskey.

“I’m raising two tiny aristocrats,” I muttered.

“No,” Theo said. “You’re raising karma.”

A cousin walked by and pinched Max’s cheek. He accepted it with the bored expression of a CEO enduring small talk. Issa lifted her chin again when two aunts told her she was adorable. I watched them for a second, making sure little hands stayed within reach, my breathing stayed even, my shoulders stayed loose.

Pretending, apparently, was cardio.

Through the shifting bodies, I caught sight of Fiona again. She was still in the middle of it all, still surrounded by family, still glowing like a woman who had never once made a bad decision in her life. Papá was talking to someone. Mamá was already tearing up into Aunt Carmen’s shoulder. Everything moved the way it was supposed to.

Then I saw Zach.

Looking this way.

I immediately turned to Issa. “Don’t lick the glass.”

“I’m not licking it. I’m just close.”

“Who was the one licking the fridge door at home earlier?”

“That was research.”

“Of course.”

Max tugged at the hem of my dress. “Mommy.”

“What.”

“Why are you talking like you want to be mad at everybody?”

I looked at him.

He looked right back. Blue eyes. Dark lashes. That small, irritating mouth that, when he was quiet, looked far too much like someone who should’ve stayed neatly buried in the past.

I pinched his cheek, not gently. “Because Mommy is trying very hard not to go to prison.”

Max thought about that for a second, then nodded. “Oh. Like when I drew on the wall?”

“Exactly.”

“That was Issa’s fault too.”

Issa turned around with high-level offense. “Lies.”

“You were holding the marker.”

“You said a dragon on the wall would be cool.”

“Because it was cool.”

“Mommy got mad.”

“Because the dragon was wearing red lipstick,” I said. “And for some reason it had five eyelashes.”

Issa folded her arms. “It was a dragon girl.”

“Of course it was.”

Theo looked at me. “You want me to stay or go?”

I took a slow breath in through my nose. There was still pressure wedged between my ribs, sharp and thin, like someone had slipped something small in there and was slowly twisting it.

“Close,” I said at last. “But not too close. I’m not ready to look like a woman who needs supervision.”

“You do need supervision.”

“I also need a private island. This world is full of rejection.”

Theo lifted his glass a little and stepped back, far enough to give me space, close enough for me to call him if something started exploding. Good. My twin could be unbearable, but his timing was that of a professional thief.

I guided the kids to a small table by the hallway. Someone had left behind a bowl of sugar-coated nuts and a stack of napkins. Max immediately climbed onto a chair. Issa inspected the tablecloth and made a face.

“This fabric is sad.”

“Sit down.”

“Sad and cheap.”

“Isabella.”

She sat with visible suffering.

I stood between them, one hand on the back of Max’s chair, the other smoothing Issa’s hair where it had started slipping out of its glitter clip. The music changed. Glasses clinked. Laughter broke out from the center of the room.

I took a sip of the rest of my water. The glass was empty.

“Mommy,” Issa said, touching my bracelet. “Who is that pretty man?”

My blood missed a beat.

I turned too fast. “Which one?”

Issa was already looking somewhere else. “The one near Auntie Fio. The dark one. The shiny one.”

Of course that was her description. This child could reduce danger to catalog language.

“That’s your aunt’s fiancé,” I answered too quickly.

Max turned too, standing on the chair to get a better look. “The one with blue eyes?”

I pressed a hand to his shoulder and pushed him back down. “Sit.”

“I’m just looking.”

“You can look while sitting.”

“But he’s tall,” Max said, still trying to stretch his neck. “And he has a handsome TV face.”

I let out a short laugh. It came out thin and dry. “Baby, lots of men look good from a distance. That’s lighting and generational sin.”

“Mommy,” Issa sighed, “you’re weird.”

“Yes. And you still haven’t had any water.”

A server came by with sparkling water and mini sodas. Issa immediately pointed to the glass bottle with an expression of formal authority. “That one. Thank you.”

Max tried to grab two at once. I smacked the back of his hand. He complained like I’d just denied him his inheritance.

In the middle of those small movements, I saw Fiona again. This time she was definitely looking for something. Or someone. Her eyes moved over the guests, her face bright, one hand holding Zach’s arm now. Then she looked this way.

Her smile widened.

No. No. No.

She lifted a hand and waved.

I smiled back with all my teeth. The kind of smile that looked lovely from the outside and like a threat from the inside.

Then I turned to Max. “You just said you had to pee, right?”

Max blinked. “No.”

“You do now.”

“I—”

“Now.” I was already pulling him off the chair and grabbing his hand. “Issa, come on.”

Issa looked at me suspiciously. “I don’t have to pee.”

“Congratulations. You’re coming emotionally.”