I'd spent the past few weeks barricading myself inside the four walls of my room. Wake up, go to college, come home-straight upstairs. It became my routine. My survival mode. Gwen, sweet as ever, had tried to talk to me a few times, but I'd shut her out like the rest of the world.
Tonight was no different. I padded downstairs barefoot, Gwen's faint humming welcomed me as I entered the kitchen. She stood there in her floral nightdress, her silver curls pulled into a low bun as she shuffled through the fridge.
I grabbed a plate and turned, avoiding eye contact. Just as I was about to leave, her voice halted me.
"Lucía, sweetheart... why do you keep eating alone?" she asked gently, her voice laced with concern. "Did something happen?"
I paused for a moment before sighing. "No, Gwen. I just... need privacy."
She frowned but didn't push further. I appreciated that. My grip tightened on the plate as I turned toward the stairs - and that's when I heard it.
His voice.
Marcelo.
That low, gravel-rich tone that haunted my dreams and dragged me right back to that night. I stopped in my tracks, heart pounding, breathing shallow. His voice was faint, muffled through the hallway, but it still sank its claws into my skin.
I clenched my jaw. Don't think about it. Don't go there.
But it was too late. My mind betrayed me - again. His rough hands trailing over my skin, his mouth on my breast, his growl in my ear, the heat... and then the cold slap of reality.
"Don't act like a whore."
That phrase still echoed like a gunshot.
With a sharp inhale, I bolted up the stairs and slammed my door shut, locking it behind me as if the wooden barrier could keep his memory out. I hated him. Hated that he had the power to ignite me and then leave me burning.
Days passed. I ignored him. Pretended he didn't exist.
But I also couldn't stop missing him. And I hated myself for that even more.
That afternoon, I wandered through campus, grateful for the fresh air and the normalcy of people chatting, laughing, living. I closed my eyes, feeling the breeze brush my face - and suddenly, I collided with a solid wall of muscle.
"Oof," the wall groaned.
I blinked up, startled - only to find Ben, the guy I'd met during my first week. The one I'd intentionally been dodging.
"Hey," he said with a cautious smile.
"Hey," I replied, suddenly shy.
"You've been ignoring me."
I winced. "It's not just you. I've been... distant from everyone. Even Sophie."
He studied me for a moment before placing a hand on my shoulder. "It's okay, Lucía. I get it. Just... don't shut us out forever."
His hand moved to gently cup my cheek, and I froze. The warmth of his skin, the calm in his eyes - it was the opposite of everything Marcelo was.
"I really like you," Ben said softly. "I know you're going through a lot. But I'd like a chance... even if I have to earn it."
His words felt like a balm over an old wound. I smiled - genuinely.
"I hope you do."
He grinned, his dimples flashing like sunlight through clouds. "There's a new club opening tomorrow night. Sophie's coming too. You in?"
I hesitated for a second before nodding. "I'd love to."
He scribbled something on a slip of paper and handed it to me. "See you tomorrow, gorgeous."
As he walked away, I stared at the address and name of club in my hand, heart thudding. That warmth was new... and dangerous in its own way.
Moments later, my ever-present bodyguards materialized at my side like shadows. Without a word, they led me to the car.
I sat in the back seat, fingers tightening around the note. My eyes flicked to the darkened window. Tomorrow, I was going to sneak out. I didn't care what it took.
Let's see who tries to stop me.