MI VIDA

The Look

Catalina Reyes

The taxi slowed, turning down a narrow street with modern buildings standing tall against the blue sky. The closer we got to the apartment, the heavier my chest felt. I couldn’t shake the image of Álvaro’s face — his dark eyes, the weight of his gaze on me the night everything changed. The night we shared something without names, without promises.

Sophia, oblivious to the storm brewing in my head, kept talking, her words blurring together. She was so excited about the apartment, the city, the new phase of life. She had no idea how this chapter was going to rewrite our friendship, how it was going to erase every ounce of innocence we had left.

The cab came to a stop, and I took a deep breath before opening the door. The building loomed over me, all sleek glass and metal. I could already feel the tension in my muscles, the way my hands trembled just from the thought of seeing him again.

“Ready?” Sophia asked, looking at me with a mixture of hope and excitement. She didn’t understand why I wasn’t jumping for joy. Why this wasn’t good news to me.

I didn’t trust my voice, so I nodded instead, stepping out of the cab. My shoes clicked against the pavement as we made our way to the entrance. The doors swung open, and we were inside, the cold air of the lobby feeling like a slap against my skin.

We didn’t have much luggage. The basics for now. But what we had wasn’t the issue. It was the sudden weight of everything else—the unspoken tension in the air.

“Álvaro said the apartment is ready for us. Should be just upstairs. Let’s take the elevator.”

I tried not to look at her, tried not to feel the pressure building in my chest. But I couldn’t help it. I was terrified. Terrified of what I might find behind the door, of the man who had unknowingly poisoned my thoughts for the past few months.

Sophia’s hand pressed the elevator button, and it dinged almost instantly. We stepped inside, and I felt like I was sinking. Every floor we passed seemed to echo in my mind, a reminder of what awaited.

“I can’t believe we’re really here,” she said, her voice a little higher with excitement. “Can you imagine? Our first apartment together, right in the heart of Madrid.”

I forced a smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “Yeah. It’s perfect.”

The elevator doors slid open, and we stepped into a sleek hallway. The walls were pristine white, the floors polished wood. Just like Álvaro. Clean. Immaculate. Neat.

She took the lead, walking down the hall with me following, the sound of my footsteps muffled by the luxury of the building. Every step closer felt like I was walking into a cage. A cage built by Álvaro, a cage I would be trapped in whether I liked it or not.

She stopped in front of the door, pulled out a key, and turned it. The door opened with a soft click, and we were inside.

The apartment was everything I had imagined. Spacious, modern, with floor-to-ceiling windows letting in the late afternoon sun. The living room was filled with plush sofas and a minimalist style that screamed Álvaro. Clean. Controlled. Beautiful. Cold.

I stood in the middle of the living room, feeling small in the vastness of it all. My eyes roamed the space, but I couldn’t really see it. All I could see was him — Álvaro Cruz, CEO of Cruz Holdings, the man who had consumed my thoughts ever since that night.

“Isn’t it perfect?” Sophia asked, her voice full of awe. She was already opening the door to the balcony, stepping outside to enjoy the view.

I forced myself to nod. “It’s… amazing.”

The apartment was exactly what I expected from someone like Álvaro. High-end finishes, neutral colors, sophisticated furniture. Everything was chosen with precision, with a careful eye for detail. I could picture him here, sitting at the kitchen counter, watching the world go by from the glass windows.

“I’m just gonna unpack my stuff,” Sophia said, disappearing into the guest bedroom.

I stood there for a moment, listening to the soft thrum of my heartbeat in the silence. The apartment was eerily still. Cold. And then I heard it — the sound of a door opening.

A low murmur of voices.

Álvaro.

I froze, heart skipping a beat. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. He was here. He had to be. He owned this apartment, after all.

A flash of memory surged through me — the look in his eyes when he kissed me, when we touched. That look of hunger, of desire. The way his hands felt against my skin, the feeling of being wanted — really wanted — in a way I had never felt before.

I shook my head, trying to push the memories away. I couldn’t afford to be weak. Not here. Not now.

The door to the living room creaked open, and I saw him.

Álvaro Cruz.

His tall frame filled the doorway, his presence commanding the space. He wore a tailored suit, his hair slightly tousled as if he had just come from a meeting. But his eyes — they were the same eyes I remembered. Dark. Intense.

“Catalina.” His voice was low, calm, and yet I could feel the power in it.

I swallowed hard, feeling the tightness in my chest. “Álvaro.”

His gaze didn’t waver from mine. There was no recognition, no sign of recognition from his side, but I could see the flicker of something in his eyes. Something... calculating. Something I wasn’t sure I wanted to acknowledge.

“You’re here,” he said, stepping further into the room. His voice was softer, but the weight of it still felt like a punch to the gut.

I nodded, trying to keep my composure. “Yes, we’re here.”

He looked past me to Sophia, who had returned from the bedroom. “I see. Sophia didn’t tell me you’d be here so soon. But I’m glad you both made it safely.”

Sophia beamed, clearly unfazed. “Thank you, Álvaro. This place is amazing. You really outdid yourself.”

Álvaro gave her a polite smile, his eyes lingering on me for a second too long. “It was nothing. I’m happy to have you both here.”

I could feel the weight of his gaze, and it made my skin tingle in ways I couldn’t explain. It made me want to turn away, to leave. But I couldn’t. I was here now, and I had nowhere else to go.