Chapter 5
693 Words
Diego showed up at the guesthouse two evenings later with a bag from Camila's favorite bakery and an apology already halfway out of his mouth.
"I know I've been distant," he said, setting the bag on the counter. "I brought your favorite. The almond ones."
Camila watched him move around the small kitchen like he still belonged there, pulling down two plates, humming faintly under his breath, and she let him, curious to see how far the performance would go.
"I also got you something," he said, pulling a small velvet box from his jacket pocket. "To make up for missing the boutique that day. For the dress you never got to buy."
He opened it. Inside sat a delicate gold bracelet, a single sapphire catching the kitchen light.
"It's beautiful," Camila said, and meant it, though the words felt strange leaving her mouth, detached from any real feeling toward the man who'd given it.
"I picked it out myself," Diego said, clasping it gently around her wrist. "I wanted it to be something just for you. Not for the family, not for appearances. Just you."
Camila turned her wrist slightly, watching the stone catch the light, and said nothing.
"I know things have felt strange between us," Diego continued, settling onto the stool across from her. "But I meant what I said about the wedding. After the gala Friday, I want to sit down with my parents and actually set a date. A real one this time."
"That would be nice," Camila said.
He smiled, clearly relieved, mistaking her calm agreement for reassurance. "I'm glad you feel better about things."
His phone buzzed against the counter. He glanced at it, and something in his expression flickered, quick enough that he probably thought she hadn't noticed.
"Work?" Camila asked.
"Something like that." He turned the phone face down. "I should head out soon, actually. I have somewhere to be."
"Of course you do."
He didn't catch the flatness in her voice, too focused on straightening his jacket, already halfway toward the door. His phone buzzed again, and this time it slid slightly across the counter, screen lighting up where Camila could see it clearly from where she sat.
Miss you already. Can't wait for Friday. Wear the red one, the color makes you glow.
Camila's eyes lifted slowly to Diego's face.
He followed her gaze to the phone, and for a moment neither of them moved.
"That's not what it looks like," he said, too quickly, reaching for the phone.
"You keep saying that," Camila said. "It's starting to lose whatever meaning it used to have."
"It's a work colleague," Diego said. "She's a difficult client, I have to keep her happy, that's all it is."
"You're a terrible liar," Camila said, almost gently, the way someone might point out a small stain on a shirt. "You always have been. I just never wanted to notice before."
Diego's jaw tightened. He pocketed the phone without looking at her. "I need to go."
"You said that already."
He paused at the door, some hesitation crossing his face, as though a small honest part of him wanted to explain, to undo whatever crack had just opened between them. Then it passed, and he simply nodded once and left.
Camila sat alone at the counter for a long moment, the sapphire bracelet cool and heavy against her wrist. She unclasped it slowly and set it in the small velvet box beside the untouched almond pastries.
She didn't cry.
She had done enough of that already.
She thought instead of the message glowing on his screen, of the word Friday, of the color he'd wanted Valentina to wear, and something in her settled into place with quiet, certain clarity.
Whatever performance Diego thought they were still putting on together, Camila realized, she was the only one left in the room actually paying attention.
She picked up her phone and opened her messages, scrolling until she found Alonso's name.
She didn't call yet. Not tonight.
But she typed a short note to herself in the space above his contact, three words she intended to remember.
Not much longer.
- Writer
