I choose you

Chapter Twenty-MATEO

I was having a very good week.

An unusually good week.

And I knew exactly why.

Andrés.

Not because he had suddenly fallen in love with me.

He hadn’t.

I wasn’t delusional.

Not because we had suddenly become some happy married couple who spent evenings talking for hours.

We hadn’t.

Not because he had started touching me or looking at me differently in some dramatic romantic way.

None of that had happened.

But something had changed.

Something small.

Something I could feel.

And I was holding onto it.

Because after three months of almost nothing, I wasn’t going to complain about something.

I was going to appreciate it.

The morning after the dinner, Andrés had texted me.

He was leaving early.

He told me about his meeting.

He responded when I reminded him to eat.

Small things.

Ridiculously small things.

But I noticed them.

Of course I did.

I noticed everything he gave me.

That was the problem with loving someone as much as I loved him.

The smallest thing could become enormous.

I was sitting in my office that afternoon when my phone buzzed.

I looked down.

A message from Andrés.

Are you coming home for dinner?

I stared at it.

I read it again.

Then again.

My heart actually stopped.

He had asked me if I was coming home.

Not whether I was busy.

Not whether I had eaten.

Not whether I needed anything.

He wanted to know if I was coming home.

I smiled.

Yes. Why?

The reply came quickly.

Elena said dinner would be ready around eight.

I stared at the message.

Then laughed quietly.

Of course.

He had an explanation.

There had to be one.

Because Andrés would never simply say he wanted me home.

I understood.

And I didn’t care.

He wanted to know if I was coming home.

That was enough.

I’ll be home.

Three dots appeared.

Then disappeared.

Then appeared again.

Finally:

Okay.

I put my phone down.

I was smiling like an i***t.

Again.

⸻

I arrived home at seven-thirty.

I walked into the house and immediately heard voices.

Andrés was in the living room.

He was sitting on the sofa with a file in his hand.

He looked up.

“You came early.”

I removed my jacket.

“You asked if I was coming home.”

His eyebrows lifted.

“I didn’t ask you to come early.”

“I know.”

I smiled.

“I wanted to.”

He stared at me for a second.

Then looked back at his file.

“Okay.”

I almost laughed.

There it was.

Andrés.

Always controlled.

Always composed.

I walked into the living room.

“What are you working on?”

“A case.”

“Important?”

“Yes.”

I sat in the chair across from him.

He continued reading.

I watched him.

He looked tired.

Not exhausted.

Just tired.

“You should rest.”

“I will.”

“You’ve been working a lot.”

“I know.”

I nodded.

Silence.

Then he looked up.

“How was your day?”

I froze.

It was such a simple question.

But coming from him?

It felt enormous.

“Good.”

He nodded.

“Busy?”

“Very.”

“Business?”

“Mostly.”

“What kind?”

I stared at him.

He was genuinely asking.

I answered.

We talked.

Not for long.

Maybe ten minutes.

Maybe fifteen.

But it was a real conversation.

Not one-word answers.

Not polite responses.

An actual conversation.

He asked questions.

I answered.

He disagreed with one of my opinions.

I laughed.

He frowned at me.

Then I laughed harder.

Eventually, he went back to his file.

I sat there quietly.

And I thought—

This is enough.

This was enough.

I didn’t need him to love me tonight.

I didn’t need him to hold my hand.

I didn’t need him to kiss me.

I didn’t need anything dramatic.

I just wanted this.

A conversation.

A question.

A few minutes of his attention.

That was enough.

For now.

⸻

Dinner was even better.

Andrés sat across from me.

We ate quietly at first.

Then he started talking about work.

Apparently, one of his colleagues had made a ridiculous mistake.

I listened.

He laughed.

I laughed.

And for the first time since our wedding, dinner didn’t feel like two strangers sitting at the same table.

It felt almost normal.

Almost.

At one point, Andrés looked at me.

“What?”

I smiled.

“Nothing.”

“You keep looking at me.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m happy.”

He frowned slightly.

“About what?”

I looked at him.

“This.”

He looked confused.

“Dinner?”

“Yes.”

He shrugged.

“It’s just dinner.”

I smiled.

“Exactly.”

He stared at me for a moment.

Then shook his head.

“You are strange.”

“Probably.”

He returned to his food.

And I smiled.

I didn’t tell him what I was thinking.

I didn’t tell him that I had spent months sitting across from him feeling like there was a wall between us.

I didn’t tell him that tonight felt different.

I didn’t tell him that every question he asked felt like a gift.

I didn’t tell him that hearing him laugh with me was enough to make my chest ache.

I just ate dinner.

And enjoyed it.

Because sometimes happiness didn’t have to be complicated.

Sometimes it was simply sitting across from the person you loved and hearing them talk about their day.

Even if they didn’t love you back.

Even if they never did.

I could still be grateful.

⸻

Later that night, we went upstairs.

Andrés changed.

I changed.

We got into bed.

The room was quiet.

I expected the usual silence.

But then—

“Mateo?”

“Yes?”

“Did you enjoy the dinner last week?”

I turned toward him.

“Yes.”

He nodded.

“Good.”

I looked at him.

“Did you?”

There was a pause.

“Yes.”

I smiled.

“Even though Héctor wasn’t there?”

He sighed.

“I was disappointed.”

“I know.”

“But…”

He stopped.

I waited.

“But it was good.”

I smiled.

“Good.”

He turned onto his side.

Then, after a few seconds, he said quietly—

“I was impressed.”

My entire body went still.

“With what?”

He didn’t look at me.

“How you handled yourself.”

I couldn’t speak.

He continued.

“You knew everyone.”

“Some of them.”

“You knew business.”

“I’ve been doing business for years.”

“I know.”

He paused.

“You were good.”

I stared at him.

And for the first time in my life, I had no idea what to say.

So I said the only thing I could.

“Thank you.”

He nodded.

“You’re welcome.”

Silence.

Then he closed his eyes.

I turned onto my back.

My heart was beating so hard I was almost certain he could hear it.

And I smiled into the darkness.

Because Andrés had just told me he was impressed.

Not because he had to.

Not because someone asked him.

Not because he wanted something from me.

He had simply said it.

Honestly.

And that meant everything.

I closed my eyes.

Maybe tomorrow would be different.

Maybe it wouldn’t.

Maybe this was the beginning of something.

Maybe it wasn’t.

I didn’t care.

For tonight, I had this.

His voice.

His honesty.

His attention.

His small smile.

His conversation.

And those words—

“I was impressed.”

I held onto them.

Because after three months of feeling like I was standing outside a locked door, Andrés had finally opened it a little.

Just a little.

And I wasn’t going to rush through it.

I would wait.

I would let him decide how far that door opened.

Because if there was one thing I had learned from loving Andrés all these years, it was that I couldn’t force him to choose me.

He had to choose me himself.

And tonight, for the first time, I felt like maybe—

just maybe—

one day he might.