“Really?” she mutters under her breath.
Martina lowers her gaze slightly and a smile appears on her lips, though Rebeca can’t quite see it from the angle she’s at.
Bruno lifts one of the suitcases again with some effort.
“Anyway,” he says, looking at Rebeca, “I’ll let you know when I get there. And don’t forget to listen to your mom about the food—I know you.”
He moves a little closer to her and lowers his voice, though not quite enough.
“I hope the translation meeting goes well. And remember to take the weekend off, or you’ll have me to deal with. No staying cooped up correcting the text until the wee hours.”
Rebeca rolls her eyes, but she can’t help but smile.
“Okay, okay, you pain in the neck. I already told you I would.”
She doesn’t realize she’s smiling until Bruno wraps her in a quick, warm hug.
“Take care, okay?” he whispers against her hair before pulling away.
Then he heads toward the elevator, dragging his suitcases. The doors close soon after, and his figure disappears.
Silence returns to the landing.
Rebeca stands for a few seconds staring at the closed elevator door, trying to catch her breath.
When she turns back around, she realizes that Martina is still standing motionless. As if she’d been waiting to see if she’d say something. Martina seems to quickly grasp the situation and moves, as if she’s about to leave.
Rebeca takes a step toward her, driven by something stronger than caution.
“Wait a moment.”
Martina stops, her hand still on the doorknob.
“Well… if you have time,” Rebeca adds, and the words come out with a certain caution, as if she didn’t want to impose. Her heart is pounding against her ribs.
Martina watches her for a few seconds, her eyes scanning Rebeca’s face with an intensity that makes the air between them feel more electric.
“I was going to grab a quick breakfast at the corner café,” Martina replies, giving her a small smile. Then she gestures toward the stairs. “It’s a beautiful day to sit outside for a while. Want to come?”
Rebeca thinks it over.
Not for long.
But long enough for a part of her mind to quickly run through the implications of continuing this game they’re both caught up in. Julia, the guilt, the unrelenting desire, the fear of breaking down again…
“Okay. Give me a second.”
She turns back to her apartment, quickly goes inside, grabs the purse she’d left on the entryway table and her keys, and heads back out, closing the door behind her.
The walk to the elevator is silent. Rebeca is aware of every little detail. She inhales Martina’s perfume and feels that desire again, impossible to deny. And her thoughts drift toward something that has nothing to do solely with what they feel. Questions that have begun to form in her head over the last few days, doubts that are slowly making their way to the surface and that she still doesn’t quite know how to sort out: what does it mean to love her like this, knowing there’s another personinvolved? How much longer can they keep up this lie without everything falling apart?
When they step out of the building, the fresh morning air envelops them, clean and salty from the proximity of the sea.
The corner café is just a few meters away.
It’s a small place, with a counter where several neighbors are already having breakfast. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, mingling with the scent of the dishes being served.
They sit at a table by the window, from where they can watch the street slowly come to life.
