로그인Later, much later, when the guests had left except for Pedro, who often slept on the couch after heavy dinners, he had knocked softly on her door. She'd let him in, sitting on her bed, knees pulled up to her chest.
"Sofia... I'm sorry. Really. It was stupid. Emma and I... we'd been drinking, and..."
He sat on the edge of the bed, avoiding her eyes. "It's our little secret, okay? I'd rather you not say anything to your father. He'd be angry if he found out I did that here, under his roof. This is his sanctuary, you know."
She'd nodded, mute. "Okay."
He'd placed a hand on her shoulder innocent, paternal and left. But that night, alone in the dark, Sofia had replayed the scene in her mind. His cock. His moans. And for the first time, she'd touched herself thinking of him.
From what she'd heard afterward, Pedro and Emma had split up shortly after. An explosive fight, accusations of cheating ironic, given Pedro's divorce from his previous wife. Emma had disappeared from the equation. So why was she calling now? Why did Pedro seem so annoyed, but not surprised?
Sofia snapped back to the present, forcing a smile as Ellie told her a story about his semester at UC San Diego. Diego chimed in every now and then, teasing Ellie about his math grades. "Still as bad as ever, huh?" Ellie laughed, but his eyes kept drifting back to Sofia, full of an admiration she pretended not to notice.
"What about you, Sof? Got any plans for this summer? Maybe we could go surfing together, like before?"
She nodded absently. "Yeah, why not."
But her gaze kept sliding toward Pedro and Javier, who were still joking about Emma. "She's chasing you like a ghost, compadre!" Javier said, laughing. Pedro shook his head, but there was a shadow in his eyes. Sofia wondered if Emma knew something. If she was calling to win him back. Or worse, to cause trouble.
The barbecue evening stretched late into the night, laughter mingling with the crackle of dying embers and the distant sound of waves lapping at the beach below. Sofia had gone upstairs with a feeling of oppression in her chest, as if the air thick with secrets weighed heavier than usual. Emma's call still lingered in her mind, an unwelcome ghost reviving images she preferred to forget or at least, tried to forget. But instead of letting herself drown, she decided to distract herself. Summer was for that, right? Distractions, forced laughter, nights that erased the days.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand as she walked into her room. It was the W******p group called "Summer Squad," a stupid name Mia had invented years ago, back when they were all pimply teens spending their vacations hanging out on the beach. The message came from Lena: "Yo losers! Party at Jonathan's tonight, villa is insane as usual. Who's in? Mia, Carlos, and I are already on the way. Eden and Mike say they're bringing the beer. Sofia, Ellie, you guys in?"
Sofia smiled despite herself. Jonathan was that rich kid they vaguely knew son of a real estate developer who rented out monstrous villas every summer on the coast, just for the fun of throwing parties. Not really a friend, more of a useful acquaintance, the kind who threw legendary parties without worrying about consequences. These parties were a tradition this time of year: blasting music, lit-up pool, and a crowd of young people from surrounding vacation homes. Mia, Carlos, Lena, Eden, Mike her inner circle, the ones she'd shared teenage secrets with, stupid laughs, and minor heartbreaks.
She typed quickly: "Hell yeah, we're coming. Ellie's with me. Be there soon!" Then she sent a fire emoji for the vibe. Replies flooded in: Carlos with a ridiculous dancing GIF, Mia with "Finally! I have so much to tell you about this guy from college," Eden with "Get your asses here, the pool is heated!" and Mike adding "And bring ice, or we'll die of thirst." The collective excitement infected her a little, chasing away Emma's shadow for a moment.
Ellie replied in the group a few seconds later: "Yeah, we're heading out soon. Sofia, I'll wait for you downstairs?" She rolled her eyes he was so predictable, always jumping at the chance to spend time with her. But still, it was Ellie. Harmless, almost endearing in his awkwardness.
But Pedro remained motionless. His face already marked by a violent redness a nascent bruise on his cheekbone, a split lip from which a warm, salty trickle of blood flowed he stood there, arms along his body, shoulders drawn in, like a man awaiting his punishment. He didn't even raise his hands to protect himself. He made no gesture to parry the blows, to dodge, to flee. He wanted it to hurt. He needed it to hurt. He wanted each impact to be a punishment, an expiation, a purification through suffering. He wanted the blood flowing from his lip to wash away the shame gnawing at his entrails.Javier continued. A fourth blow, striking the brow bone and opening a fine but deep gash. Blood now ran down his face, mingling with the sweat beading on his forehead. Sofia was still screaming, her voice shattering into a thousand pieces, her strength gradually abandoning her. She collapsed to her knees between the two men, hands still clenched on her father's T-shirt, her tearing sobs filling the
The silence that followed Sofia's confession was heavier than all the screams in the world. It weighed on everyone's shoulders, crushing them, reducing them to statues of salt in a house that had just turned into a field of ruins. Sofia, still in tears, cheeks streaked with shining trails, face decomposed by a shame so violent it had become physical, made a desperate gesture toward Pedro. Her hand trembled, her fingers opened and closed in the void, as if she were trying to catch something impalpable a second chance, a word not yet spoken. She was trying to signal him not to answer, not to inflame the gaping wound further, to stay silent, to take it, to wait for the storm to pass. But Pedro was no longer answering. He had ceased to exist as a free man the instant his daughter's words had crossed the air like poisoned arrows. He accepted. Every insult, every silent reproach emanating from Javier's gaze struck him harder than fists, deeper than knives. He remained standing, but barely s
Javier stayed speechless for a moment, lips parted, eyes fixed on Pedro, then on Sofia, as if searching for a denial on their faces. Then a nervous, almost unconscious laugh escaped him. A laugh of shock, of total denial an incongruous, tearing sound in this end-of-the-world atmosphere."But… what are you talking about? Pedro? Sofia? Is this a joke… a bad joke?"Ellie repeated, louder, without a tremor in his voice, as if he wanted to drive the nail all the way in:"Dad… He's fucking Sofia. Your daughter. I saw them. Not once twice. I saw them kissing in the car, and just now they were in the bedroom about to… They were laughing at us, Dad. They were laughing at everyone."The silence that followed was total, absolute, heavier than anything they had ever known. A leaden silence a cemetery, a tomb silence. Javier staggered, his legs buckling under him as if the bones had been removed. He leaned his full weight against the back of an armchair, gripping the fabric with both hands, his fa
"What did I expect, coming from you, Sofia." He shook his head, a bitter, disillusioned sneer floating on his lips. "You swore to me. You swore to me, Sofia, that it was over, that it would never happen again." His voice rose a notch, charged with powerless rage. "You've been lying to me from the start." He turned his gaze toward his father, and his voice grew even colder, sharper. "And you, Dad. You… You're no better than garbage, both of you. You disgust me."The silence that followed was deafening, heavier than a tomb. Sofia opened her mouth, lips trembling, but no sound came out. She desperately searched for a sentence, an explanation, a lie, but words failed her. Pedro, face livid, eyes bulging, remained petrified, unable to move, his hand still suspended in the void where Sofia's waist had been a second earlier.Pedro and Sofia burst out of the bedroom like trapped wild animals, their hearts pounding so hard against their ribs they nearly lost their hearing. The hallway air sudd
Sofia pushed the door shut behind her, closing it with a dull thud. She approached him, her voice low but resolute, charged with desperate determination."Yeah, I understand perfectly what you told me, Pedro. But don't worry about that." She paused, holding his gaze. "We just have to be more careful, both of us. More discreet. That's all. It's not the end of the world."Pedro shook his head wearily, running a nervous hand through his wet hair to push it back. Drops of water scattered around him."I don't understand how I let myself get here, Sofia." His voice was hoarse, charged with guilt. "I knew he was in love with you. I've known for a while. I saw it in his eyes, in the way he looked at you, in his unhealthy jealousy. And I, his own father, I did this. I went past it. I betrayed him in full knowledge of what I was doing."Sofia looked at him, eyes narrowed, as if trying to read the depths of his soul."You knew?" she asked, her voice suddenly lower, deeper.Pedro nodded, features
Sofia was elsewhere. Completely elsewhere, floating in a thick, cottony fog where the sounds and smells of the real world reached her muffled. She stood in the kitchen beside her father, hands busy cutting vegetables, but her mind wandered far from the cutting board and the sharp knives. Her movements were mechanical, almost robotic. Yet her eyes stayed fixed, lost in the void, riveted on a grain of wood on the counter she didn't even see.Pedro had left. He had left the house without a word, without a gesture, without even a glance over his shoulder, and that silence weighed on her like a boulder. He hadn't answered any of her messages. She had reread them dozens of times those little blue texts she'd sent him with growing frenzy: "Where are you?", "We need to talk,", "Please, call me back," and later, in a surge of desperation, "I'm begging you, Pedro, answer me." Nothing. The implacable silence of the phone, that absence of response eating at her from the inside. It was the same wi







