Chapter 21: After the Slap
1257 Words
Morning arrived without mercy.
The Monteverde estate stirred beneath pale sunlight while distant workers resumed familiar routines.
But inside the ancestral house—
peace had become fragile.
Lola barely slept.
The previous night replayed relentlessly.
The veranda.
His hand stopping her.
The kiss.
And worse—
the disappointment.
She stood before the mirror fastening pearl earrings with unusually steady hands.
Her face revealed nothing.
Years—lifetimes perhaps—had taught her dignity.
But beneath composure—
anger remained.
Not dramatic anger.
Not loud.
Only cold.
And somehow—
cold anger exhausted more deeply.
Bella entered without knocking.
Then immediately paused.
“Oh.”
Lola adjusted her sleeve.
“That sounds ominous.”
Bella looked worried.
“You look too calm.”
Interesting observation.
“I slept poorly.”
Bella crossed the room.
“What happened last night?”
Silence.
Lola rarely hid things from Bella.
Yet speaking the memory aloud felt unpleasant.
Finally—
“Gabriel kissed me.”
Bella blinked.
Then—
“Oh.”
The second oh sounded far more dangerous.
Lola looked toward the window.
“I didn’t want him to.”
Bella’s expression changed instantly.
The room quieted.
“He forced it?”
The word lingered heavily.
Lola hesitated.
And honesty arrived carefully.
“I told him no.”
Bella exhaled sharply.
“Oh, that idiot.”
Not cruel.
Just disappointed.
Lola sat near the window.
“He apologized.”
Bella looked unimpressed.
“Men apologize after storms they create.”
The remark nearly earned a smile.
But not quite.
“What will you do?”
Lola looked toward the gardens.
“Avoid him.”
Simple answer.
Necessary answer.
Because something inside her had shifted.
And trust—
once unsettled—
required distance.
Unfortunately—
Gabriel Monteverde had no intention of allowing distance.
Not because he felt entitled.
The previous night had shattered entitlement entirely.
No—
what remained was guilt.
And guilt, he discovered, could be strangely stubborn.
He stood outside the dining room looking exhausted.
The sting of her slap had long faded.
The shame had not.
Bianca approached carrying coffee.
“You look tragic.”
“I deserve it.”
Interesting.
She studied him.
Ah.
So he finally understood.
“What happened?”
His jaw tightened.
“I crossed a line.”
The honesty surprised her.
“And?”
“She hates me.”
Bianca looked thoughtful.
“No.”
He frowned.
“She should.”
“That,” Bianca said gently, “was not my answer.”
Before he could respond—
Lola entered.
And immediately—
the room changed.
She wore pale blue linen and calm distance.
No visible anger.
Which somehow hurt more.
She greeted Celestina politely.
Alejandro warmly.
Bianca courteously.
And Gabriel—
not at all.
The omission landed cleanly.
Breakfast became painfully civilized.
Bella looked ready to stab someone with cutlery.
Bianca observed.
Alejandro sensed tension.
And Celestina—
well.
Mothers noticed weather.
Lola spoke normally.
Smiled when required.
Discussed farm logistics.
And treated Gabriel exactly as one might treat decorative furniture.
Invisible.
The punishment worked beautifully.
Gabriel watched quietly.
And hated himself.
After breakfast he found her near the eastern garden.
Predictable perhaps.
But he had learned her habits.
Unfortunately.
“Lola.”
She continued walking.
He followed.
“We need to talk.”
“No.”
Straightforward.
Good.
He deserved straightforward.
The garden smelled of sampaguita and damp grass.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’ve said that.”
“And I mean it.”
She stopped.
Then turned.
And suddenly—
the calm disappeared.
Not entirely.
Only enough.
“You know what amazes me?” she asked softly.
His chest tightened.
“What?”
“The shamelessness.”
The word landed sharply.
“You already have a girlfriend.”
Ah.
Bianca.
Interesting complication.
“You think this is about cheating?”
“I think,” she said quietly, “you confuse attention with affection.”
The accusation stung.
Perhaps because pieces of it felt true.
“I’m trying to fix this.”
“No.”
Her eyes held his steadily.
“You’re trying to ease guilt.”
Silence.
Because perhaps—
she was partly right.
The wind moved softly through nearby trees.
“I hurt you,” he admitted.
“Yes.”
“And I hate that.”
“That sounds like your problem.”
Again.
That phrase.
And strangely—
it wounded him every time.
He stepped closer.
Not threatening.
Only desperate.
“I know you’re angry.”
“You don’t know half of it.”
Fair.
Entirely fair.
“I’m not asking forgiveness.”
“Good.”
“Just conversation.”
Her expression cooled.
“You lost that privilege.”
The words struck.
And for several quiet seconds—
neither moved.
Then she sighed softly.
“I’m tired, Gabriel.”
The honesty startled him.
Not anger.
Exhaustion.
And somehow—
that sounded worse.
Before he could answer—
she continued.
“You confuse me.”
The confession surprised them both.
“I don’t understand what you want.”
Neither did he.
Not completely.
But he knew this—
he could not bear distance anymore.
Dangerous realization.
“I want—”
He stopped.
Because honesty suddenly felt terrifying.
Lola looked away.
Then quietly—
“You should stay away from me.”
The sentence landed heavily.
He looked stricken.
“You don’t mean that.”
Her gaze returned.
And for the first time—
something sharp entered her voice.
“I do.”
The garden felt colder.
“You kissed me after I told you no.”
The truth stood plainly between them.
No defense existed.
No excuse.
He looked toward the ground.
“I know.”
“And now you follow me.”
The shame deepened.
“I’m trying—”
“You’re persistent.”
“I care.”
The words escaped too quickly.
Too honestly.
And suddenly—
silence.
Lola stared.
The admission startled her.
Not because she believed it fully.
But because he sounded sincere.
Dangerous thing.
So she protected herself.
The way she always had.
With distance.
And perhaps—
with cruelty.
“You should stop.”
His jaw tightened.
“Why?”
Because you frighten me.
Because disappointment from you hurts more than it should.
Because I’m beginning to care and I hate it.
But she said instead—
“I’m planning to give Matteo a chance.”
Silence.
The words landed cleanly.
And immediately—
she regretted them.
Not because they were true.
They weren’t.
But because she saw his face change.
Something tightened.
Sharp.
Unprepared.
“You’re serious.”
No.
But she nodded anyway.
“Yes.”
The lie tasted unpleasant.
“He’s kind.”
His expression hardened.
“He waited.”
The remark sounded pointed.
And perhaps—
it was.
Gabriel looked away.
The wound landed exactly where she intended.
Good.
Maybe now he would stop.
“I see,” he said quietly.
For a second—
guilt flickered inside her.
Then she crushed it.
Because peace required boundaries.
And Gabriel—
however regretful—
had crossed one.
She stepped back.
“I mean what I said.”
His eyes met hers.
“Stay away from me.”
The sentence lingered long after she walked away.
And for the first time—
Gabriel Monteverde discovered something far worse than jealousy.
Helplessness.
Because guilt offered no strategy.
No negotiation.
No charm.
Only consequence.
And watching her disappear through the gardens—
he realized with growing dread—
the distance between them had become real.
Which, unfortunately—
made losing her feel real too.
- Writer
