The Reluctant Agreement

Chapter 8: Ghosts of Yesterday

**Chapter 8: Ghosts of Yesterday**

The silence that followed Sofia’s dramatic exit was thick enough to cut with a knife. My family’s curious gazes were fixed on Adrian, and I could feel the weight of their unspoken questions pressing down on us.

Adrian cleared his throat, his grip on my hand loosening slightly. “That was… Sofia,” he began, his voice a little strained. “We… we knew each other a while ago.”

“‘Knew each other’?” my cousin Isabella echoed, her eyebrows raised in amusement. “She certainly seemed to know you rather intimately, *Adi*.”

Adrian shot her a warning look before turning back to my grandmother. “It was a past relationship, Lola Elena. A long time ago.”

My grandmother’s eyes, however, held a shrewdness that belied her age. “She didn’t seem to consider it entirely in the past, *hijo*.”

I remained silent, observing Adrian’s discomfort. A part of me felt a strange sense of vindication. He wasn’t as squeaky clean as I had perhaps subconsciously assumed. But another part of me felt a prickle of unease. Sofia’s possessive demeanor had been unsettling, and the familiarity in her eyes when she looked at Adrian had been undeniable.

“It ended amicably,” Adrian insisted, though his tone lacked conviction. “She… she can be a bit dramatic.”

My Uncle Rafael, ever the pragmatist, spoke up. “Well, let’s hope her drama doesn’t involve showing up uninvited to future family gatherings.”

The conversation eventually moved on, steered by my grandmother’s polite inquiries about Adrian’s family and his business. But the shadow of Sofia’s unexpected appearance lingered, casting a pall over the rest of the evening.

Later, after my family had left and Adrian was seeing himself out, I stopped him at the door. “Sofia,” I said, my voice carefully neutral. “Who is she?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It was a serious relationship, Seraphina. A few years ago. It didn’t end well.”

“She seemed… possessive,” I observed, unable to keep a hint of curiosity out of my voice.

“Sofia… she doesn’t always handle endings gracefully,” Adrian admitted, his gaze troubled. “I haven’t seen her in years. I have no idea how she found out about our… engagement.”

Our fake engagement. The reminder brought a strange mix of relief and disappointment. It wasn’t real. He wasn’t truly mine, and I had no right to feel this unexpected pang of… something.

“Just… be careful, Adrian,” I said, the words coming out more as a warning than a genuine concern for his well-being. “I don’t need any unwanted drama complicating our arrangement.”

He nodded slowly. “Understood, Ms. Valeriano. You won’t hear from her again.”

But I had a feeling that Sofia Reyes was not the type to simply disappear. Her possessive gaze and her pointed words had hinted at a deeper connection, a lingering attachment that could potentially throw a wrench into our carefully constructed pretense.

The next few days were marked by a subtle shift in our dynamic. Adrian seemed more reserved, more preoccupied. Our conversations revolved solely around the construction project, the easy banter that had occasionally surfaced now absent. I wondered if Sofia’s reappearance had stirred up old feelings for him, or if he was simply worried about her causing trouble.

One afternoon, Beatrice informed me that a large bouquet of red roses had been delivered for me. Red roses. A classic symbol of romantic love. My heart did a confused little flutter. Had Adrian…?

But the accompanying card read, “Congratulations on your engagement, darling. Missed you. – Sofia.”

A chill ran down my spine. This woman was clearly not going to be easily dismissed. Her bold gesture felt like a direct challenge, a blatant disregard for my supposed relationship with Adrian.

I showed the card to Adrian during our next meeting. His face darkened with annoyance. “I told you, I’d handle it.”

“Handle it how, Adrian?” I retorted, my own irritation rising. “By ignoring her while she sends me threatening bouquets?”

“They’re not threatening, Seraphina,” he said, his tone defensive. “She’s just… being Sofia.”

“Well, ‘being Sofia’ involves sending romantic gestures to the woman you’re publicly engaged to,” I pointed out, my voice sharp. “It’s hardly appropriate.”

“I’ll talk to her,” he promised, his jaw tight. “I’ll make it clear that she needs to stay away.”

But Sofia’s intrusion had already sown a seed of doubt in my mind. What did I really know about Adrian Alvarez? He was charming, hardworking, and undeniably attractive. But he also had a past, a past that involved a woman who clearly wasn’t ready to let him go. And as much as I tried to deny it, the thought of Adrian having a deep connection with someone else, someone from his real life, stirred a disquieting emotion within me. It wasn’t jealousy, I told myself firmly. It was merely a concern for the integrity of our agreement. But deep down, a small, unwelcome voice whispered that it might be something more.