The following day, Lucia woke with a heavy heart, her mind clouded with thoughts about her next move. Resigning had felt like the right decision, but a part of her still wrestled with the weight of it. She rose from the bed, pacing her hotel room and replaying the conversation with Diego. Her words had been bold and honest, but also painful. Could she really walk away now, after all she'd done to maintain this charade?
Across town, Diego was experiencing a restless morning of his own. He had barely slept, his thoughts circling around Emily's—no, Lucia's—stinging words. Her abrupt declaration had struck him deeply, much more than he cared to admit. Her words weren't just an outburst; they were a painful reflection of truths he had avoided facing. He found himself wandering through his apartment, feeling lost, replaying the confrontation in his mind. He'd been so caught up in his work and lifestyle that he had lost sight of everything else. But was it too late to make things right?
Eventually, Diego shook off his thoughts and forced himself to get ready. As he stepped out of his apartment, he felt a pang of frustration when he realized his driver—Emily—wasn't there. He approached Andre, the security guard, with a slight frown.
"Morning, Andre. Have you seen Emily?" Diego asked, his voice laced with impatience.
Andre shook his head. "No, sir. She hasn't shown up today."
Diego glanced at his watch, irritation mounting. Emily was always punctual. He pulled out his phone, hesitating for a moment before dialing her number. His thumb hovered over the call button, but he couldn't bring himself to hit it right away. He wasn't even sure what he would say if she picked up.
In her hotel room, Lucia's phone buzzed on the nightstand, snapping her out of her thoughts. Seeing Diego's name on the screen made her heart race. Part of her wanted to ignore it, to create some distance, but she picked up the call anyway. "Hello?"
"Emily," Diego's voice came through, sounding softer than usual. "Where are you? I've been waiting. It's almost 8."
Lucia hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "I'm... not feeling well today. I should've informed you earlier. I apologize."
There was a pause on the other end, and when Diego spoke again, his tone was unexpectedly gentle. "Do you need anything? Medicine? I can have Andre bring you something."
Lucia's heart softened, but she remained firm. "No, thank you, sir. I just need to rest."
"Alright," Diego replied, the disappointment clear in his voice. "Let me know if you need anything."
As she hung up, Lucia felt a mixture of relief and guilt. She hadn't lied, but she hadn't told the whole truth, either. Diego didn't need to know that her absence had more to do with the emotional toll of their situation than with any physical ailment.
Meanwhile, Diego pocketed his phone, feeling unsettled. Something about Emily's absence felt wrong. He couldn't ignore the growing feeling that her outburst had been more than just an impulsive decision.
That evening, Lucia decided to step out for a quiet dinner to clear her head. Dressing in her usual disguise—loose clothes, a cap pulled low, and sunglasses—she hoped to remain unnoticed. She hailed a cab and asked the driver to take her to a cozy, low-profile restaurant a few blocks away.
Arriving at the restaurant, Lucia headed for the entrance, distracted by her swirling thoughts. Just as she reached the door, she collided with a man stepping out, knocking his papers and drink out of his hands.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Lucia exclaimed, bending down to help him gather his things.
The man laughed, crouching down beside her. "No harm done. I wasn't paying attention either."
Lucia glanced up at him briefly. He was tall, with strikingly kind eyes, and his dark hair was neatly combed. Despite his casual attire, there was an elegance about him that caught her off guard.
"Still, I should've been watching where I was going," she muttered, handing him the last of his papers. She quickly pulled her sunglasses back down, hoping to go unnoticed.
The man smiled, standing up as he took the papers from her. "It's no big deal, honestly. Happens to the best of us." He looked at her a moment longer, a curious expression crossing his face. "You look familiar. Have we met before?"
Lucia's heart skipped a beat, but she quickly shook her head. "I don't think so. Just a coincidence, I guess."
"Maybe," he replied, chuckling. "Well, enjoy your dinner." He flashed a warm smile and walked away, leaving Lucia standing by the door, feeling oddly rattled by the encounter.
Inside, she found a quiet table in the corner, grateful for the dim lighting and some peace. Yet, as she waited for her meal, her mind wandered back to Diego. Despite everything, his face haunted her thoughts. She hadn't wanted to admit it, but a part of her had hoped he'd try harder to understand why she'd left. The strange thing was that, even though she was the one in control of her disguise, she still felt powerless in the relationship.
As she picked at her food, she thought about her conversation with Ivy. Ivy had been right—she needed to let go of her illusions about Diego. He wasn't the man she had hoped he'd be, and clinging to him would only hold her back. But the truth was, breaking free from him would be more challenging than she'd anticipated.
After finishing her meal, Lucia decided to take a long walk back to the hotel. The cool night air helped to clear her head, and she found herself wandering down side streets, lost in thought. As she passed a row of small shops, her eyes caught sight of a familiar designer logo in a window display. She froze, her mind drifting to the moment when Diego had purchased that same designer wear for his fiancée—and then casually handed it to her, his "driver," as if it meant nothing. She'd wanted to scream, to tell him who she really was, but something had stopped her. Maybe it was the fear of shattering the fragile illusion she'd built.
She continued walking, but her mind was miles away. As painful as it was to accept, Ivy's words echoed in her mind: Maybe the version of him you wanted him to be was never real. She had crafted an ideal image of Diego, one that no man could live up to, let alone a man as flawed as he was. And now, it was time to let go of that image.
Back at the hotel, Lucia slipped out of her disguise and prepared for bed. But before she could drift off, her phone buzzed again. It was Ivy.
"How are you holding up?" Ivy's voice was soft, laced with concern.
"Confused," Lucia admitted. "Every time I think I'm ready to let go, something pulls me back. It's like I'm stuck in this endless loop."
"It's normal to feel that way," Ivy reassured her. "You invested so much in him. It's not easy to walk away. But just remember, you deserve someone who loves you for who you are, not for some role you play."
Lucia sighed, feeling a small sense of relief. "You're right. It's time I made decisions for myself. I can't keep living for an illusion."
"That's the spirit," Ivy said, her voice lifting with encouragement. "So what's next?"
Lucia took a deep breath. "I'm going to stay a little longer and think things through. But I'm done with Diego. I can't keep pretending."
"That's a bold choice," Ivy replied, pride evident in her voice. "And whatever happens, I'm here for you. Just promise me you won't let him drag you down again."
"I promise," Lucia replied, feeling her resolve strengthen. "Thank you, Ivy. I don't know what I'd do without you."
After hanging up, Lucia sat by the window, gazing out at the city lights. For the first time in a long time, she felt the weight of possibility. Her future was uncertain, but it was hers to shape.