“Has she tried to hit on you yet?”
Rebeca freezes.
“Who?”
Eva discreetly points toward Ariadna, who is ordering drinks with her back to them.
Rebeca blushes immediately.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Ariadna interjects from across the bar, having clearly overheard the conversation. “We get along great, but only at work. And as friends, of course.”
Then she adds mockingly, turning around with the drinks in her hand:
“Besides, she likes a different kind of woman. More… complicated.”
Rebeca clears her throat.
That very morning she’d told Ariadna about Martina. Not in too much detail, but enough for her to get the gist. Ariadna listened without interrupting, just nodding, and finally said, “Damn, that sucks. But it’s also so sweet.”
“I don’t think it was a good idea to tell her,” Rebeca thinks now, feeling the heat rise up her neck.
Ariadna gives her a knowing look and passes her the glass, deliberately brushing her fingers against hers.
Rebeca decides to ignore her and takes a long sip.
For a little while longer, everything remains easy. They dance. They talk. They tell each other stories. Naima imitates her boss with a cruel precision that has everyone doubled over with laughter. Zule confesses that she hasn’t slept more than four hours in three weeks because of a project. Eva dances as if no one is watching, with her arms raised and a smile that seems to light up the entire dance floor.
For the first time since that night, Rebeca feels that maybe she can move on without getting stuck in what happened—no matter how much they still have a conversation left to have. That the desire that still burns her skin when she thinks of Martina can become something more manageable and, above all, distant.
Until the door to the bar opens, and the cold air from the street briefly sweeps inside, carrying with it the scent of salt and fresh rain.
Rebeca doesn’t look up right away. She’s listening to something Naima is telling her about a trip to who-knows-where.
But then, a pair of intense eyes seem to cross the distance and bring with them the woman she had wanted to avoid at all costs.
Martina enters the bar. And she’s not alone.
Walking beside her is another woman. Tall, elegant, with hair falling over her shoulders in perfect waves and a relaxed smile as she approaches the bar. She’s wearing a jacket that opens as she walks, revealing a tight black dress that hugs every curve of her body.
Rebeca feels something tighten inside her chest, a fist squeezing her without mercy.
For a second, Martina doesn’t see her. She’s too busy taking off her jacket and ordering two drinks, leaning over the bar to whisper to the bartender. The stranger slips an arm around her waist naturally, a casual yet possessive gesture that Rebeca notices and makes her feel a pang of jealousy.
Rebeca reacts immediately, but this time, she does so by grabbing Ariadna’s arm tightly.
“Come with me.”
“Hey!” Ariadna protests as she’s dragged to a corner of the bar, between the wall and a pillar. “What’s going on?”
Rebeca speaks in a low voice, her breath coming in gasps.
“You have to watch my back.”
Ariadna blinks, confused.
“What?”
Rebeca discreetly nods toward the bar.
