Diego paced outside the guest room, his hands clutching the bag of supplies he'd just picked up for "Emily" from a nearby shop. He hesitated, feeling a little silly standing there with a bag that held a mix of items—some food, a few comfort items, and, after much awkward deliberation in the store, a box of pads. He could feel a faint flush creeping up his neck just thinking about it. He took a deep breath, knocked softly, and called out, "Emily? Can I come in?"
Inside, Lucia—disguised as Emily—looked up from the bed, surprised by the softness in Diego's voice. She hadn't expected him to return so soon, let alone with supplies. She watched as he entered, offering her the bag with a sheepish look. "I… I didn't know what you'd need exactly," he mumbled, a bit awkwardly. "So I just got a few things."
For a moment, Lucia was speechless. Here he was, the man she had come to test, the man she had come to resent—and yet, he'd gone out of his way to help her in this small, personal way. It was unexpected, and she felt a mixture of amusement, gratitude, and an unexpected softness. She took the bag with a nod, giving him a brief, "Thank you, sir."
Diego visibly relaxed at her acceptance, even managing a small smile. He lingered by her side, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking out of place yet determined. "You think I lack discipline," he said after a moment, his voice softer, "and maybe you're right. I know I mess up a lot. But that doesn't mean I don't care. Especially… about you."
Lucia's heart skipped a beat, though she did her best to keep her face neutral. This wasn't part of the plan; he wasn't supposed to care about her, wasn't supposed to act like this. She looked away, her voice low and carefully controlled. "Sir, caring about people is more than just saying it. It's about actions."
"I know," Diego admitted, fidgeting with his hands. "And I know my actions haven't always shown it. But that doesn't mean I'm a bad person, does it?" He looked up at her with a vulnerable expression she hadn't seen before—a raw openness that made it difficult for her to keep her guard up.
Lucia took a breath, steadying herself. "I don't think you're a bad person, sir," she replied, her tone softer than she intended. "But you have to realize, it's not enough to mean well. You need discipline and self-control to actually make a difference."
Diego gave a quiet nod, his eyes clouded as he seemed to reflect on her words. "It's just… I've always lived in the moment, you know? I've never been good at controlling my impulses. But maybe you're right. Maybe I do need a wake-up call."
Lucia felt a pang of sympathy, which surprised her. After everything he'd done, after the betrayals she'd witnessed, she hadn't expected to feel anything but resentment. But now, with him sitting there, openly admitting his flaws, she couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was a part of him that genuinely wanted to change.
"Emily, I appreciate you being honest with me," he said, his voice a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. "Not everyone would be so straightforward."
"Honesty is part of the job, sir," she replied with a faint smile, trying to keep the conversation light.
"Maybe," he said, his tone softening, "but I think it's more than that. I feel like… I don't know, like I can trust you."
Lucia felt her heart sink a little at those words. Trust. The irony of it stung. He trusted her, but he had no idea she was actually his fiancée in disguise, the woman he'd been betraying without a second thought. She looked down, swallowing the lump in her throat as she reminded herself of her purpose.
"I'm just doing what's best for you, sir," she replied, keeping her tone professional.
Diego chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Emily, sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself."
Lucia looked up, surprised by the openness in his gaze. She could feel the wall she'd built around herself starting to crack, the resolve she'd so carefully cultivated beginning to waver. But she couldn't let that happen. She couldn't let herself get drawn into this, not after everything he'd done.
As if sensing her hesitation, Diego reached out, his hand brushing against hers in a gesture so gentle, so uncharacteristic, that she felt her heart skip a beat. "Thank you for challenging me," he said quietly, his eyes locked on hers. "For making me see things differently."
She managed a faint smile, keeping her tone light. "Well, sir, maybe you're just not used to people telling you the truth."
"Maybe not," he admitted, smiling faintly. But his gaze lingered, a softness in his eyes that she hadn't seen before. "Either way, I appreciate it."
He straightened up, clearing his throat as if to brush off the intimacy of the moment. "Get some rest," he said softly, "and we'll talk again soon."
As the door closed behind him, Lucia felt a strange sense of loss, as if something precious had slipped through her fingers. She sat in silence, her mind racing, her emotions a tangled mess. She touched her cheek where his lips had brushed against her skin, feeling the warmth linger long after he'd gone. What was happening to her? She was supposed to be here to expose him, to see if he was worthy of her forgiveness. But now, for the first time, she wasn't sure if she was ready for the answer.
She reminded herself of all the reasons she'd come here, all the betrayals she'd witnessed, and yet, his small gesture of kindness had left her shaken. She took a deep breath, telling herself that this was just part of the plan, that she was in control. But deep down, she knew she was lying to herself.
Meanwhile, Diego returned to the living room, his own thoughts in turmoil. He hadn't planned to open up like that, hadn't expected to feel this strange sense of vulnerability with "Emily." She was just supposed to be his driver, someone to help him, yet here he was, feeling things he couldn't quite explain. He sank into the couch, running a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of it all.
"Emily…" he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. There was something about her, something that made him want to be better, to prove that he was more than the impulsive, self-centered man he feared he'd become. But he wasn't sure if he could change, or if she would even believe him if he tried.
Back in the guest room, Lucia lay down, her mind filled with conflicting emotions. She knew she needed to stay focused, to remember why she was here. But now, after seeing this side of Diego, she felt a pang of doubt. What if he really was capable of change? What if, beneath all the arrogance and recklessness, there was a man who could be better?
But she couldn't afford to let her guard down, couldn't risk letting her emotions cloud her judgment. She had come here to find the truth, and she wasn't going to let one small gesture sway her. Yet as she lay there, the warmth of his kiss lingering on her cheek, she knew that things had changed. And she wasn't sure if she could go back.
Diego lay on his couch, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts a mess. "Emily," he whispered, feeling an unexpected ache in his chest. For the first time, he found himself wanting something more, something he couldn't quite define.
In the silence of that moment, as they each lay alone in their separate rooms, both Diego and Lucia found themselves faced with a question they weren't ready to answer: Could they let go of the past, forgive each other's flaws, and take a chance on something real?
Only time would tell if either of them was brave enough to find out.