5
Morning sunlight streamed through the curtains as Marta groggily reached for her phone. The screen lit up with various notifications, but one in particular made her stop in her tracks.
SerafinaV started following you.
Marta’s pulse quickened, her breath hitching as she stared at the notification. Was this what ‘gay panic’ (as Begona always says) felt like? It was one thing to admire from afar, to indulge in a fleeting moment of curiosity, but this? This was real. Mutual. A connection reaching back across the digital void.
For a moment, Marta just stared at the screen. Then, almost too quickly, she flipped her phone face down on the counter, as if that could stop the storm of emotions threatening to break free. She wasn’t used to this, feeling things. Not since Jaime died. And if she was truly honest with herself, she hadn’t felt much when he was alive either. She had loved Jaime, but she hadn’t been in love with Jaime. And maybe, if she was really honest, she didn’t know if she had ever truly known what love was. He had worked away a lot, and in his absence, she had turned her focus to what had always felt more certain. Ambition. Becoming the CEO of the company.
With a steadying breath, she moved through the motions of her morning routine, trying to shake the tension coiled tight in her chest. She opened the curtains, letting the warm Toledo sunshine wash over her face, grounding herself in its heat. The scent of coffee filled the air as she poured herself a cup, hands lingering around the warmth of the ceramic mug.
"This is ridiculous," she muttered, giving herself a mental pep talk. "It’s just a message. A stranger. A singer I saw once. That’s all."
Except she knew that wasn’t true.
Finally, with a deep breath, she settled into her oversized home office chair, coffee cradled between her palms. Slowly, hesitantly, she picked up her phone and tapped on the unread message. Just seeing the name waiting for her sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
She opened the message.
So… did you like the show?
A small, breathless laugh escaped her. Simple. Playful. A little cocky, even. Marta ran a hand through her hair, staring at the screen, at the tiny typing cursor blinking expectantly.
She had no idea what to say. But she knew one thing for certain.
She was in trouble.
She lasted the whole day without responding. Told herself it was pointless. It wouldn't lead anywhere. Fina could have anyone she wanted—why would she waste her time on her? It was probably just a game, a casual flirtation, nothing more.
And yet, despite every logical reason not to engage, the message sat in her inbox like a challenge. Mocking her.
By the time evening rolled around, a long, grueling day of board meetings and navigating her brother’s latest shady dealings had worn her down. She was exhausted, frustrated, and maybe, just maybe, she’d poured herself one scotch too many.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she picked up her phone, thumbs hovering over the keyboard.
Meh. You were alright. The guitarist, though? Incredible.
She hit send before she could think twice, then immediately groaned, dragging a hand down her face.
Too late now.