My mind made a little competition of its own. Tell her the truth or not. I was confused. She was like a mother to me, but what if something happened because I told her?
With my eyes carrying confidence I didn't know where I got it from, I answered her, "That's ridiculous. How could any person risk coming inside this room through the window on the second floor of the house?"
Her eyes didn't leave mine for a second, "Are you sure you didn't see him last night?"
"I am sure, Carmen,"
She stared at me once more before finally giving up.
"Alright then," She then stood up and headed towards the door but before she opened it, she looked at me again, "Camila, be careful. Marcus is capable of anything,"
I swallowed before nodding. I was aware of that.
As soon as she was gone, I collapsed on my knees. I held onto the edge of my dress tightly. My breath hitched and my throat felt constricted.
Lying had seemed like the best option in her presence, but now, I was left with many thoughts. Maybe, for now, I should stay away from Juan.
My thoughts were drawn away once again when a text message entered my phone. I took it and opened it only to see,
'How are you today?'
I stared at my phone as I thought for a long while before answering, 'Fine,'
I still couldn't shake the feeling that someone had seen Juan and now Alejandro was texted. What was with these two guys?
'It doesn't look like that to me. Who the hell angered my princess?'
So I was that obvious too. And wait a minute,
'Princess?'
'Yes, princess' Let's assume he frowned his face.
'Why would you call me that?'
'You have a better title in mind?' Let's say he smiled this time.
'I have a name' I replied.
There was something about this guy and how he texted me. Something about him fascinated me. I felt like a little naive girl who was introduced to the game of love for the first time. After replying to the message, I set aside my phone only to pick up the moment another text entered.
'I prefer princess'
' I miss you. '
As Carmen's fear began to fade from my chest, I bit my lower lip. The butterflies in my stomach grew restless, their fluttering was impossible to ignore. A mixture of excitement and fear hit me hard.
"I wish to see you right now," he replied.
I hesitated, considering the almost impossible circumstances.
"Is it even possible?" I raised a question.
'You can come to the hospital. I will be there tomorrow,'
What in the world was this guy thinking right now? An unintentional chuckle left my lips.
'But Marcus is there,'
'You can say you're going to see the doctor. Apart from my yearning to see you, your wound needs more medical attention.'
It dawned on me that I hadn't shared any details about my wound with him. What the...
'The hospital is under my control. I can access all the information I need.'
'Thank you for the explanation,' I replied, relieved that my unspoken question had been addressed.
' So.... '
I shrugged. Would I be a slut for wanting to see him too? Before answering the question, I found myself replying,
' I will be there,"
'looking forward, have a good night.'
'Princess,'
And that made my cheeks burn a little.
'You too,' Prince. It'd be nice if I replied like that too.
I sighed. When did I ever think that I'd have men problem? Alejandro and Juan just made me so... Confused.
*******
I looked at myself in the mirror one last time, examining my outfit – an asymmetrical maroon skirt paired with a dark off-shoulder top that revealed little skin of my belly.
I was all set.
When I arrived at the hospital, I was welcomed by one of the guards. He was tall and a bit skinny, his dark uniform making him stand out. He looked down at me as if trying to figure me out.
"Good morning, Ms. Camila," he greeted.
"Oh, good morning," I smiled back.
Not once had I imagined being a special guest at a hospital until today. The guard continued, "Your doctor is waiting for you. Allow me to take you there."
I hesitated for a moment, then replied, "Oh... Okay?"
We walked in silence as he led me to the examination room. Inside, the same doctor who had treated me before awaited me. He sounded genuinely pleased to see me, and his smile was warm.
"Yes, thanks for the treatment. The wound is not much of a burden now," I said, offering a small smile as I sat down.
The doctor, wearing gloves, proceeded to assess the wound. "Let's see. Are you drinking your medicine?"
"Yes, doctor," I confirmed.
"From what I can see, the wound is just fine. No infections, thankfully. However, the chance of getting a scar is a bit higher."
"Oh," I said, a shade of disappointment in my voice.
"But you can still make it go away. It will take some time, though. For now, focus on making sure it heals," he advised.
I nodded with a small smile, "I will make sure of that."
He applied the necessary medicine and checked the wound carefully from all sides before covering it with a piece of fabric. Once he was done, the guard who had escorted me earlier led me out, but instead of leaving the room, he opened another door.
As I entered the other room, my eyes widened. It smelled nothing like a hospital. It was more like a private hotel room, with red and white balloons covering every surface and a fancy table with just two chairs at its center.
A man dressed in a black suit sat on one of the chairs. When I walked in, his face lit up with excitement.
"Hi," he greeted me, his deep voice resonating.
"You look," He scanned my body, "Beautiful, " The way he scanned me made my cheeks feel a little burn.
"Thank you. You don't look bad yourself," He was undeniably handsome, with a few strands of blond hair falling on his forehead and neatly shaved sides.
This man was a God.
"Hi," I replied, waving my hand slowly. "I wonder how much trouble you've gone through to prepare this."
He smiled and took a step closer, saying, "Well, let's just say that I've been working pretty hard."
Our eyes met as he continued, "And I needed a break."
As he looked at me, his green eyes sparkled, and I nodded in response.
"Shall we sit?" He offered his hand and guided me to the table. We both took our seats, and our hands brushed against each other before he placed his hands in his lap.
"How's your wound?" he questioned.
I sighed, "The doctors told me it could form a scar."
With a hint of disappointment in my voice, I added, "If it leaves a scar, it'll be huge."
"I have connections with the best doctors in Mexico and all over the world," he reassured me. "The scar won't be a hard case to fix."
I thanked him for the offer. As he looked around, he cleared his throat, "I hope you like what I've prepared."
Glancing around the room again, I was even more mesmerized by the romantic atmosphere. "I like it," I smiled.
He poured wine into our glasses and raised his in a toast, saying, "Cheers to us."
Taking a sip, I asked, "What's special with us?"
He chuckled, "We've met."
I raised an eyebrow, questioning, "What's so special about meeting me?"
I made him a new enemy. I had no power. I had nothing to offer him but trouble.
Our laughter filled the room as he responded, "It's not easy to find someone who can see you beyond your money and wealth, trust me."
I was surprised by his words and commented, "I never thought you'd think of me that way."
With a laugh, I said, "Sadly, I'm married," and we laughed as if it were a laughable thing.
But then he changed the tone of the conversation, saying, "Guess what."
I took another sip of wine and asked, "Mh mmmh?"
"I don't care," he confessed, shaking his head. "I don't."
I feigned shock, "How courageous! A round of applause to the man! Bravo!"
Our laughter continued, but as it died down, he spoke seriously. "I'm serious though."
"Serious about what?" I asked, my insides fluttering with the tension that was slowly building around us.
His eyes locked onto mine, and his hand reached for mine over the table, "I'm not afraid of anyone. Not even Marcus."
This man, "Alejandro."
"I want you, Camila," he declared.