10. Isabella Viana
1031 Words
The sound of the plane touching the ground made me clutch my bag even tighter against my chest. My fingers trembled slightly, and I took a deep breath, trying to convince myself that this was real. Me, Isabella—a girl who had never left her city—was landing in Spain. The Atlantic Ocean was now behind me, along with everything familiar.
My heart pounded as I walked through the airport corridor, following the flow of passengers. The bright lights and the murmur of voices in foreign languages only made me more nervous. I held onto my bag as if it were my only connection to the world I had left behind. Inside it were my most precious belongings: a photo of my family, a rosary my grandmother had given me, and a notebook where I wrote down my dreams.
“Breathe, Isa,” I whispered to myself. “You made it this far. Just keep going.”
But the fear refused to leave. What if I wasn’t good enough? What if they didn’t like me? What if—
My thoughts were interrupted when my eyes landed on a scene that looked like it had come straight out of a movie. A little girl with blonde curls, wearing a light blue dress, was bouncing with excitement while holding a colorful sign. Written in big, bright letters was my name: “Isabella.”
For a moment, the fear faded. A small, involuntary smile appeared on my lips as I saw the joy on her face. But then my gaze shifted to the man standing behind her.
He was tall—very tall—with brown hair and a beard that already showed hints of gray. His green eyes were intense, as if they could see everything I tried to hide. The gray dress shirt he wore outlined the muscles in his arms perfectly, and I felt heat rise to my face. He looked serious, almost austere, but there was something in his gaze that made me feel… safe?
No, not safe. Something more complicated. Something I couldn’t quite name.
He must be the father—or rather, how should I address him? Mr. Benites. My employer.
Before I could think further, the little girl spotted me and began waving frantically.
“Isabella! Isabella!” she shouted, running toward me.
I crouched down to her level, and she hugged me with a strength I didn’t expect from someone so small.
“Hi!” I said, trying to hide the emotion in my voice. “You must be Giulia, right?”
She let out a musical giggle and nodded eagerly.
“Yes! I made the sign for you! Do you like it?”
“I love it!” I replied, looking at the vibrant colors and drawings she had made. “It’s the most beautiful sign I’ve ever seen.”
Giulia smiled proudly, then turned back, calling the man who stood a few steps away.
“Dad, come here!”
He approached with steady steps, and I stood up, suddenly feeling very small. His green eyes studied me for a moment, and I had to resist the urge to look away.
“Isabella, I presume,” he said, his deep voice resonating in my chest.
“Yes, sir,” I replied, trying to remain calm. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Miguel Benites,” he introduced himself with a slight nod. “Welcome to Spain.”
“Thank you,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat.
Miguel reached for my suitcase, and for a moment, I hesitated. I wasn’t used to someone doing things for me—especially not a man like him. Tall, imposing, with those eyes that seemed to see right through me.
“Let me take that for you,” he said, his tone gentle but firm.
“Thank you,” I murmured, letting go of the handle, a slight shiver running through me as our fingers briefly touched.
Meanwhile, Giulia grabbed my hand and started pulling me along, chatting excitedly.
“I made the sign all by myself, you know!” she said with a bright smile. “I chose all the colors! Blue is my favorite, but I also like pink and yellow. Daddy helped a little, but I did almost everything!”
I smiled, feeling some of my tension ease thanks to her contagious energy.
“It turned out beautiful, Giulia. You’re very talented!”
“I know!” she laughed. “I also like drawing. One day, I’m going to be an artist, just like my mom.”
The mention of her mother made my heart tighten, but before I could say anything, Giulia was already talking about something else.
“Do you like chocolate cake? Because Maria made one for you!”
“I love chocolate cake,” I replied with a laugh. “And I can’t wait to try Maria’s.”
We reached the car, a sleek black SUV that seemed to match Miguel perfectly. He opened the back door and helped Giulia in, carefully buckling her into her seat.
“Ready, princess?”
“Ready!” Giulia replied, swinging her legs.
Miguel closed the door gently, then turned to me and opened the passenger door.
“After you,” he said politely.
“Thank you.”
He closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side. The engine hummed softly as he adjusted the rearview mirror, briefly glancing at me before starting to drive.
“So, how was the trip?” he asked.
“It was good, thank you. It was my first time on a plane, so it was… an experience.”
“I can imagine. But you handled it well.”
“I tried,” I admitted, feeling a little more at ease. “But I was nervous.”
“That’s natural.”
I considered continuing the conversation, but Miguel seemed too serious to want small talk. His expression hardened as he focused on the traffic, and I retreated into silence, turning my attention to Giulia, who kept talking about her drawings.
I forced myself to listen, pushing the fear aside.
He’s not my stepfather…
- Writer
