“Considering I was up against Whitmore too,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, “I don’t see why anyone would defend him. You wasted our time.”
Jamie’s smile faltered for half a second.
“I suggest you leave before Ilias or Ale arrive,” Sofia added, her voice sharp enough to draw blood.
Jamie scoffed. “Ilias can’t do shit unless he wants to be suspended from the USL, again. And your friend Ale? She’s injured. What exactly do you think she can do?”
Something in Callum’s jaw tightened.
“Just go,” Sofia snapped.
Jamie gave a theatrical wave, fake smile back in place, and strutted off as if she had won something.
“Gosh, I hate her,” Sofia muttered.
“Never seen you like this,” Callum said, watching Jamie disappear into the crowd.
“Must be the hormones.”
He frowned at that, but she didn’t elaborate. She just turned and walked away, already barking instructions at someone near the Salacia Project’s booth.
Callum bent to grab another box.
And that’s when he felt it. That sensation, the weight of someone’s gaze. He straightened slowly, the box forgotten in his hands.
And there she was.
Alejandra.
A few meters away, frozen mid-step as if someone had pressed pause on her. The late afternoon light caught in her hair, darker now than he remembered, pulled back loosely. A sling hugged her shoulder, stark and unmistakable against her fitted shirt. There were faint marks along her forearm—healing cuts, maybe. The kind you only noticed if you were really looking.
Her green eyes were wide, brighter than he remembered, almost luminous against the flush rising in her cheeks. For a split second, neither of them moved. The world around them blurred—people talking, boards clattering, wind whipping through banners—none of it reached him.
She looked different. Quieter.
He noticed the way her fingers curled slightly at her side, as if she had considered stepping forward and then thought better of it.The way her lips parted like she might say something, and then didn’t.
His chest tightened.
She blinked once. Twice.
And in that second he saw it—recognition, surprise, something dangerously close to panic.
Her throat moved as she swallowed.
Then she turned. She disappeared in the direction Sofia had gone, leaving only the faint sway of her hair and the echo of something unfinished hanging in the air.
Callum remained there, box still in his hands, pulse suddenly uneven.
Fucking fantastic.
For the first time, he wasn’t sure if she had walked away because she didn’t want him to see her like that. Or because she couldn’t handle seeing him at all.
23
ALEJANDRA
Occhi Color Mare - Olly
