Chapter 003
1160 Words
Chapter 003
LUCIA'S POINT OF VIEW
Madrid started to feel like nowhere.
Now, even in spring, it felt colder. Perhaps it was simply my perspective. Perhaps it was the weight of all I was dragging behind me—secrets, regrets, and that one night I wish I could rip out of my life like a page in a book.
Javier Ramos had not visited in years. It had been years since I had left that hotel room, clutching my shoes in one hand and my pride in the other. Now he was three feet away from me in Clara's glass office, behaving as though we had never kissed, never touched, never destroyed something we never truly began.
His gaze stayed away from mine. That irritated me more than I could have let on.
"You're quiet," he remarked, drinking his cappuccino as though we were not amid a tempest of unresolved business.
"You're loud," I said in a snap.
"So we are doing this again?"
"Here I am, ready to work. I am determined not to endure the most challenging night of my life once more.
That is a falsehood. The night I parted from him wasn't the worst. That evening I buried the test stick in the garbage and told no one.
You cannot keep this up indefinitely, Lucía.
I looked out the high windows. Madrid seemed sharp enough to cut. Lights pulsing like lies. From above, everything appeared more orderly, wiser, and artificial.
"Do you really believe that she is unaware?" he asked suddenly.
I hesitated. Ask, "What?"
'Clara, concerning Hugo, about you."
I turned my back on it.
She neither does. I also need it to remain that way.
He got closer, his voice too faint for this environment.
"You believe secrets buried in this city will remain buried? Madrid consumes secrets as its first meal of the day.
"Back off, Javier," said
He grinned, but his smile was not genuine. "Tell me, Lucía, what are you more afraid of? What are you more afraid of, Clara? Is your child asking why she doesn't have a father?
That came too quickly. too fresh.
"You don't get to talk about her."
"I already did."
I turned and left before I flung something. The corridor felt as though the air was tight. It felt as though the building comprehended our hiding place.
Back at my workstation, I was lost in thought. I stayed fixed on the screen until the letters melted into forms.
My phone then started to buzz.
Unknown count.
Come to the parking lot. currently. Johnson
He would certainly text. Of course I would also go.
He was leaning against his automobile, same as in 2017, once more. It was as if time had not passed.
"You said what you needed to say," I said. "Why am I here?"
He was looking up. "Because you still want answers."
"The solutions are already known to me. Simply said, I find them unpleasant."
The silence.
And then—"Did you ever love him?"
That question slid on me like ice.
"I considered myself to have done. Perhaps all I was was lonely. Perhaps he was merely in attendance.
And me?"
Do not.
"Where not?"
"Because you were never supposed to matter."
He sighed once and laughed bitterly. "Guess that makes two of us."
He approached closer. Too closely. His aroma assaulted me—spicy, familiar, and menacing. I hated the fact that I could still remember his flavor.
"You still think about it?" he said softly.
"No."
"Lie."
He ran his hand over my wrist. a spark. As previously mentioned, there was a spark. I backed out far too quickly.
I cautioned, "Don't start something you can't finish."
"You already started it, Lucía."
He planted a kiss on me.
demanding.
It felt like a simultaneous punch and a pull.
I stopped him— not once more.
It wasn't the first time, though.
I then thought of Emilia, though.
Clara was also present.
And that evening when I swore while standing in the rain, I would never allow a guy to destroy me once more.
Breathless and shaky, I forced him away.
"We are incapable of doing this."
"You mean you won't.
"No." We are, after all, poisoned together.
"You say that like you did not just kiss me back."
"You say that like it lacked nothing."
A pause. He closed his mouth.
You still adore me.
"No," I said in a whisper. "I hate that I still feel anything."
His phone chimed, but he appeared to want to say something.
He looked at me once more after checking it and scowled.
"Don't depart tonight." We must speak.
"You had your chances."
I turned and started to walk. I started walking again.
I stopped, not once this time.
I returned directly to my house.
directly to Emilia's room.
She was softly breathing while sleeping. Tucked in her arms, I dropped down to kiss her forehead.
My heart seemed to be glass.
With my head against the wall, I sat on the floor and began to cry silently.
He has received the information.
Alternatively, he is near to knowing.
Should Javier share this with Clara if she learns I kept the baby and slept with her brother?
All of it goes a I cherish the peace.
My work.
I cherish the peace of my daughter.
Trust in Clara.
I placed my palm up on my mouth.
Try not to let him destroy this.
You just made one. You could make it once more.
I stood, cleaned my face, and then fixed my gaze on my mirror.
You have to make decisions, Lucía. You must choose between him and the truth.
However, neither of them was satisfied.
There is always a difference between the two.
The next morning, I entered the office with red eyes and a false smile.
Clara stood waiting at the lifts.
"You okay?" she inquired.
"Just bored."
"Are you certain? You seem like paradise.
"Thanks." That makes sense.
She giggled.
I also did. Minuscule.
The lift began to run. We joined in.
She set the top-floor button.
"Javier wants to have dinner tonight," she added. She emphasizes the importance of this.
My gut collapsed.
"With both of us?"
"Just you."
I didn't respond.
She glanced over.
"Everything alright?"
"Why would it not be?"
You tell me here.
That quiet extended.
Too protracted.
"Lucía... Is there anything I should know about?"
I gazed directly into her eyes.
Not.
She gave a nod.
I lied.
And that falsehood might cost me all I have.
Javier was already in the restaurant when I arrived there that evening. Additionally seated across from him—
Hugo:
I stood at the door, frozen.
He appeared aged. Weary. Sadly.
His eyes turned to see mine.
And I was aware of it.
He knew too.
The truth no longer buried itself.
It seated itself right at the table.
I'm smiling.
Wait.
And I strolled straight into it.
- Writer
