All morning before the party, I felt like there was an invisible wall between Judith and me. Our routine remained the same: breakfast, getting ready, brief comments about the day's agenda… but everything was charged with a tension that couldn't be disguised. It was as if any word could spark something neither of us wanted to face.
When night came, I decided to change in another room while Judith got her makeup done in ours. I didn't want to make her uncomfortable or risk another awkward silence.
I had always found the makeup process boring—endless waiting in front of a mirror—but I had no choice. Once I finished, I went down to wait for her at the main entrance, trying to distract myself with any thought that didn't include her.
"Boss, good evening," Sheldon greeted me with his usual smile.
"Good evening," I replied in a dry tone, lacking energy.
"We're in a bad mood," he murmured, low enough for only me to hear. "Could it be because you're wearing a suit? By the way, why are you wearing a suit?" he asked with curiosity.
"I didn't have any dresses left," I answered tiredly, not wanting to give further explanations.
Sheldon raised an eyebrow, visibly surprised."You've always looked good in everything," he said without thinking.
I couldn't help but smile at his comment."I know," I affirmed with a hint of fake pride, just to tease him a little.
Realizing what he'd said, Sheldon tried to correct himself:"Although I can't deny that in that suit, you don't look as bad as in the dresses."
"No, you already told me I look good in everything, so nothing you say now will erase what you just admitted," I replied playfully.
Sheldon let out a laugh before joking,"It's just that in some, you look terrible."
I rolled my eyes, about to respond, when I heard footsteps descending the stairs. I turned instinctively… and was left breathless.
Judith was coming down.
My eyes widened at the impact of seeing her. She was simply perfect. Her dress fit elegantly, and every movement she made exuded a naturalness that made her shine. Her eyes had a special glow, a light that made everything around her seem dimmer, duller. It was as if the world had stopped just to let me look at her.
Beside me, Sheldon murmured with a mixture of admiration and mischief:"Now I see why you chose the suit… or rather, why it was chosen for you."
Not even Sheldon's words could snap me out of my daze. Judith had paused for a few seconds at the top of the stairs, looking at me with that gaze of hers that seemed to pierce through everything. For a moment, I felt time stop between us. Then, slowly, she began to descend, each step accompanied by the soft sound of her heels on the stairs, as if marking the rhythm of my breath.
I remained motionless, unable to react, even when Judith was in front of me and Sheldon greeted her politely."Good evening, Mrs. Judith," he said, with a slight bow.
"Good evening, Sheldon," she responded with an elegant smile, the kind that could disarm anyone.
"Shall we go?" Sheldon asked, stepping aside to let us pass.
But I still didn't move. Noticing my distraction, Sheldon had to nudge me lightly in the ribs with his fingers to get me to react. I jumped slightly in surprise and shook off my trance.
"Thank you," I muttered under my breath before extending my hand to Judith.
She accepted it without hesitation, her skin brushing against mine with a warmth that made me shiver more than I wanted to admit. Together, we walked to the car.
During the ride, the silence felt comfortable, though no less intense. I couldn't help but glance at her: the way her hair fell over one shoulder, the subtle shine of her makeup, the calmness of her breathing. But apparently, my observation had become too obvious.
"Is something wrong?" Judith asked, turning her face toward me and locking eyes for a moment that felt eternal.
I scolded myself mentally. I had been staring at her without restraint, and now I didn't know how to justify it. I quickly shook my head, trying to cover it up."I was just… checking if they got your measurements right," I said without thinking, and in the same second wished I could disappear.
"Seriously, Mel? That's the best you could come up with?" I chastised myself internally.
Judith arched an eyebrow, amused."Yes, they did. Now everything fits me perfectly," she replied softly, though her tone carried intent.
I only smiled, trying to maintain composure, and turned my gaze toward the car window, hoping the night scenery would hide the faint blush creeping up my cheeks.
Upon arriving at the party, the bustle enveloped us immediately. Judith and I began greeting dozens of people, many of whom I didn't even know, but who seemed to know her very well. Amid congratulations, jokes, and the occasional complaint about not being invited to the wedding, we found ourselves at the center of that dazzling crowd.
There were so many people that, at times, I worried that Judith might feel overwhelmed. I hadn't imagined that so many would attend, nor that most of them would approach her with such insistence. While I tried to maintain a conversation with a couple of my parents' friends, I noticed Judith's brother and his wife approaching to greet her.
"Hello, sister-in-law," Judith's sister-in-law greeted her with a wide smile.
I couldn't keep watching her because one of my father's friends interrupted me with a question."And when do you return from your trip?" he asked kindly.
"In a month, or maybe a little less," I replied politely.
Then I heard a male voice, deep and familiar, greeting with a certain formality:"Good evening."
I turned my head. It was Tomás.
Tomás greeted everyone with his usual cordiality. He shook my hand, but with more strength than necessary, squeezing it until it almost hurt. That interaction, which seemed like a simple polite greeting to others, had an obvious tension. Perhaps that's why Judith stepped closer to me, shortening the distance between us instinctively, almost protectively.
Tomás's wife, Aida, also greeted us. At least she managed to disguise her discomfort better. With a warm smile and a kiss on my cheek:"It's so nice to see you, Mel," she said kindly."Likewise, Aida," I responded, grateful for her courtesy.
Fortunately, the father of the Bells took the microphone at that moment, interrupting any awkward conversations. He thanked everyone for attending his daughter's coming-of-age party and then officially presented her as the next heir of the family business. Applause followed immediately; it was typical for these kinds of celebrations.
In our society, when you come of age and are an only child, it's not so much the birthday itself that's celebrated, but the beginning of your role as heir or future heiress. I had gone through the same experience a few years ago, and although I wasn't as nervous as Lara Bell, I remembered perfectly how strange it had been to see so many people smiling—not for me, but for what my last name represented.
Amid the applause, I suddenly felt Judith's firm grip on my arm. I turned quickly toward her."Are you okay?" I asked, leaning slightly so only she could hear me.
"Yes, it's just that there are too many people," she whispered.
I remembered that a few weeks ago she had confessed she couldn't stand crowded places; they made her anxious and sometimes dizzy. Without thinking, I took her hand."Come," I said softly.
We walked away from the crowd toward a balcony overlooking the garden. The fresh night air immediately enveloped her, and I saw her breathing begin to calm."Feeling better?" I asked, still holding her hand.
"Yes, I'm fine now," she replied, giving me a calm smile. "We can go back."
I stopped her before she took a step. I placed my hands gently on her face, looking into her eyes."No rush," I assured her. "Take your time. It's okay if you want to stay here a little longer."
"I'm sorry, I thought no one was here," a female voice said behind us.
I was startled to see a woman I didn't recognize had stopped near the balcony door. Then I realized something that made my blood run cold: my hands were still on Judith's face, holding her gently to make sure she was really okay.
"When did I put my hands there?" I screamed mentally, quickly lowering them and trying to hide my clumsiness.
"Mel," a familiar female voice called suddenly, clear and tinged with surprise.
I turned toward the voice."Jade…" I said, mouth open, unable to hide my astonishment at seeing her there, in front of me, at the worst possible moment.
Jade only looked at me for a few seconds before glancing at Judith."She is Judith Preston, my wife," I introduced her firmly, making her look back at me.
"It wasn't a lie…" she murmured incredulously, as if she needed to repeat it to convince herself. "Mel, can we talk?" she asked, in a controlled tone.
"I don't think this is a good time. My wife is feeling a little unwell…" I replied, trying to put distance between us.
"Don't worry, darling, I feel better. I'll go with my brother while you talk to Miss Jade," Judith said, gently touching my shoulder before walking away.
I watched her leave, intending to stop her, and even brushed the edge of her dress with my fingers, but it slipped away. She kept walking without turning back, leaving me with that uncomfortable feeling of emptiness.
"Mel," Jade stepped into my field of vision, forcing me back to reality.
"Jade, we can talk another time," I asked, trying once more to catch Judith's gaze.
"Just five minutes," she assured me in a calm voice. "Besides, your wife agreed that we should talk," she added, reminding me that I no longer had an excuse to avoid her.
I sighed deeply, feeling the weight of the inevitable, and crossed my arms."All right… what do you want to talk about?" I asked, exhausted.
"I'm sorry for everything that happened, Mel. I left without saying anything…" she began, her voice trembling.
"It's okay, Jade. That's in the past," I interrupted, wanting to cut off any thread that tied us to those memories.
She shook her head slowly, with that stubborn expression I remembered so well."Mel, you can tell me anything. I know you came looking for me in Vancouver, but I…"
"You didn't want to see me," I finished for her, without reproach, but with a bitter pang in my chest.
"Mel, I fell in love with you," she confessed suddenly, her voice breaking slightly. "And I didn't want to hear at the time that you only wanted to be my friend."
Her words fell between us like a sigh echoing in the silence.
"Jade, it was never my intention…" I tried to say, but she interrupted me immediately.
"I know, I know, Mel," she repeated wearily. "I know it was never your intention, and more than anyone, I know you never saw me that way. But I couldn't help falling in love with you," she said with a touch of sadness, lowering her gaze before looking back into my eyes. "I fell in love with you… and I still am, even after all these years."
Her trembling fingers took my hand, squeezing it gently. I didn't know what to answer.
"Mel, I know your marriage didn't happen because both parties wanted it," she added suddenly, and my brow furrowed in distrust. "I've heard the rumors," she continued, speaking almost in a whisper. "Mel, I'm willing to wait for you… to try when you're free."
Her words froze me. Jade gripped my hand tightly, waiting for a response I didn't have. My eyes rested on her, on that look filled with hope and nostalgia, while my mind drifted elsewhere… following the echo of Judith's footsteps walking away.
And in that instant, caught between past and present, I knew that any word I said could change everything.
...........
Narrator
Judith had stayed to the side, silently listening to the conversation between Mel and Jade. At first, she didn't want to intervene, but when she heard the proposal Jade made to Mel, she felt her stomach twist. Anger and sadness mingled in her chest like a rising tide she couldn't control. However, what hurt her most wasn't what Jade said, but the silence that followed. Mel didn't respond immediately, and that brief moment was enough for Judith to feel a lump in her throat and a pang in her heart. Her silence, so prolonged, sounded too much like doubt… like possibility.
Trying to drown out her feelings, she slowly moved to a corner of the room. A waiter passed by, and she took a glass of champagne. Then another. And another. Within minutes, she had already had eight glasses, each one more bitter than the last. By the ninth, her brother Tomás arrived just in time to take it from her.
"Where's your wife, that she's not taking care of you?" he scolded, annoyed, placing the glass on a passing waiter's tray.
Tomás's irritation wasn't unwarranted. He knew Judith had mentioned that that night she only wanted to drink a little with him and Aida. But Aida, due to her pregnancy, wouldn't be drinking, and she had promised to look after her husband. Instead, Judith was counting on Mel, who—according to her—would take care of her. That alone was enough to upset Tomás: he didn't trust Mel. Because of this, Tomás wasn't going to drink that night with Judith.
So, after being denied Tomás's company and with the burning memory of what she had just overheard between her wife and Jade, Judith decided to drink alone. She stayed in a corner, her gaze distant, balancing the glass between her fingers. Until Tomás arrived and stopped her from continuing to drink.
"Honey, we should go. Your sister is a little…" Aida began, noticing Judith's state.
"Drunk," Tomás finished angrily, crossing his arms.
In the distance, Sheldon, Mel's assistant, observed the scene. He immediately recognized his boss's wife, unsteady and with a cloudy gaze. His first reaction was surprise; the second, concern. In his mind, he could only repeat, "The boss would never leave her wife alone, not even if they'd argued. Something happened."
Without wasting time, Sheldon hurried toward the Preston group. From afar, he saw Mel arrive as well, taking Judith by the waist and trying to support her. Tomás's annoyance was evident—his brow furrowed, jaw tense.
"You weren't even with her," Sheldon heard Tomás murmur, close enough to catch the resentment in his voice.
He quickened his pace to intervene and prevent the situation from escalating in front of the guests. The tension was palpable, though no one fully realized it yet.
"I'll take her home," Mel said firmly, trying to maintain composure.
She slid an arm around Judith, helping her to steady herself. But when she tried to guide her toward the exit, Tomás stopped her, placing a hand on her shoulder. Anticipating conflict, Sheldon did the same with Tomás, holding his arm to restrain him.
The air between them grew dense, filled with unspoken reproaches, blame, and glances that said more than words ever could.
"Mr. Preston, you shouldn't cause a scene, for the sake of both families," Sheldon intervened with a calm, steady voice, which was enough to make Tomás stare at him.
"Let go of me," Tomás demanded harshly, trying to break free from his grip.
"Honey, he's right," Aida said calmly, placing a hand on her husband's arm. "The only one who could be harmed is your sister," she added in a whisper, her words soft but weighted with reason.
Mel, saying nothing more, continued walking. She crossed the hall without looking back, leaving behind Sheldon and her brother-in-law, along with a few curious glances from guests who noticed Mel exiting with her wife.
Judith leaned weakly on Mel's shoulder, and Sheldon followed them moments later, leaving Tomás frustrated in the middle of the hall.
Sheldon kept a respectful distance behind his boss until they reached the car. The drive back to the residence was silent. Judith dozed, resting against Mel, while Sheldon, in the front seat, watched through the rearview mirror.
When they arrived, Mel thanked him for his help, but with a tired gesture, asked him to leave. Sheldon nodded, understanding that his boss needed to be alone. Still, he couldn't help but sigh as he exited the car. All along the way, he had noticed something different in Mel: at first, she was tense, annoyed, but by the time they were home, her expression had changed. It wasn't anger… it was worry. And then he understood. His boss felt something for Judith, even if she hadn't admitted it yet.
Sheldon thought about telling her the next day, or maybe provoking a situation that would make Mel admit it herself. But it wouldn't be necessary. That night, things were about to take a turn he never could have imagined.
Mel carefully carried Judith to the bedroom. She gently laid her on the bed, sliding off her shoes and covering her with a blanket. Just as she was about to leave, she heard a murmur. She paused, thinking Judith might just be delirious from the alcohol. But the words were persistent, drawn out, barely audible.
"Judith?" Mel asked softly, leaning closer.
There was no clear response, so she sat on the edge of the bed and brought her ear closer to her lips.
"Why didn't you tell him no…?" Judith whispered, dragging the words just enough for Mel to understand.
Mel froze. Her heart raced as she tried to process what she had just heard. Before she could react, Judith raised a hand and, with a sudden movement, grabbed her tie. She pulled it forcefully, bringing Mel within inches of her face.
"Ju... Judith," she managed to say, surprised, but she didn't have time for more.
Judith opened her eyes, looking at her with a mix of desire and sadness, and without hesitation, she kissed her. The first contact was soft, trembling, almost a brush. But that innocent gesture gradually deepened, growing more passionate. Mel didn't know when she stopped resisting. Her hands moved instinctively, bracing herself on the mattress on either side of Judith as the kiss intensified.
In an instant, Mel was already on top of her, breathing heavily, their lips locked together. The world seemed to stop. In that moment, the murmur of the party, the judgments, the agreements between families—all of it disappeared. There were only the two of them, wrapped in a desire that had been held back for so long.
Judith wasn't completely drunk. The alcohol hadn't clouded her mind; it had just given her the courage she had lacked before. She had always known: Mel would never kiss her first.
She clearly remembered her words: "I really respect your relationship with Amber." And yet here they were, breaking that invisible barrier they had both pretended not to see.
Perhaps Mel had hesitated in front of Jade, unsure of what to say. But now, with her body over hers, with her jacket already on the floor and their breaths entangled, Judith understood everything. Even if it was only for tonight, Mel was here… with her. And for the first time, Judith decided not to think, not to hold back. She would simply surrender to what she had been repressing for so long.
Mel, for her part, tried to convince herself that this was wrong, that she should stop before crossing a line that could never be erased. But her body didn't obey. Reason faded in the intensity of the moment, and every fiber of her being seemed to betray her, pulling her toward Judith as if they were opposite poles of the same magnet.
Without realizing it, Mel positioned herself over her, continuing the kiss with a need that consumed her. Desire took over her mind, erasing all logic. Judith's hands roamed her back with a burning urgency; every touch was pure fire igniting her skin, marking her. The air between them grew thick, heavy with a tension that was impossible to ignore.
Suddenly, a sharp pull jolted her from her reverie. Judith, with an almost desperate impulse, tore Mel's shirt; the buttons flew off, hitting the floor with a sound that seemed as loud as a gunshot in the silence of the room. It was then that Mel regained, if only for a moment, a glimpse of sanity. She pulled back abruptly, breathing heavily, trying to put some distance between them.
But Judith wouldn't let her. Her hand rose firmly, gripping her by the neck, pulling her back toward her. The strength of the gesture completely disarmed Mel, who felt her will faltering. The kiss returned, more urgent than before, as if both feared the world would end if they separated.
Finally, with the little control she had left, Mel pulled back, facing Judith. Their breaths mingled, erratic, and in Mel's eyes was reflected an internal battle that was tearing her apart. This is wrong, she repeated to herself over and over. Judith was drunk. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right. If she were sober, she would never have allowed this to happen.
Judith tried to kiss her again, but Mel turned her face, avoiding the attempt.
"You need to sleep," she murmured in a trembling voice, swallowing hard.
It was clear she was making an almost superhuman effort not to give in. It showed in her eyes, in the stiffness of her hands, in the way she held her breath.
"I want to continue," Judith whispered hoarsely, her words charged with a raw honesty that pierced Mel like a dart.
Mel's eyes widened in surprise. Her mind, still confused, betrayed her with a cruel thought: Is she confusing me with Amber? The knot that formed in her stomach was so tight she could barely breathe. A pang of pain, frustration… and helplessness ran through her. She had no right to feel this way. She knew it. Judith loved Amber.
And yet, when Judith kissed her again, Mel surrendered for a second. The taste of champagne, mixed with the warmth of her lips, enveloped her in a dangerous haze.
"I want to be with you," Judith murmured against her mouth, her eyes half-closed.
Mel felt everything around her vanish, leaving only the two of them. She no longer wanted to stop, didn't have the strength to. But in one last desperate attempt, a plea escaped her lips between broken kisses, filled with a pain that could almost be touched:
"Please… ask me to stop," she whispered, almost begging. "Tell me to stop, Judith. Because I can't anymore…"
Her words were a shattered lament, the plea of someone who knew she was losing a battle against herself.
Judith understood. She realized that, for Mel, continuing would be devastating. She didn't want to hurt her, didn't want to be the cause of her emotional ruin. Mel mattered to her far more than she had ever admitted, even more than she was willing to acknowledge when fully conscious. So, with a heavy heart and against her own will, she forced herself to stop everything.
"Stop, Mel…" she whispered, her voice weak.
Those two words struck Mel's chest like a direct blow. She pulled away abruptly, breathing heavily. The silence that followed was overwhelming, so dense it seemed to fill every corner of the room. And then, without thinking twice, Mel literally ran. She didn't care that her shirt was torn, that the buttons were dangling, or that her hands were shaking; she just knew she had to get away, leave Judith before she completely lost her mind.
She ran down the hallway until she reached her art studio, the only place where she felt she could breathe. She turned on the light abruptly; the brightness stung her eyes, but she didn't care. She approached the easel and, with a single tug, removed the cloth covering the painting she had finished last week. She had thought it was an abstract work, a jumble of senseless emotions, mere brushstrokes. But deep down, she had always known the truth.
Her heart pounded violently in her chest, as if it wanted to escape. With an almost desperate movement, she turned off the light. The studio was plunged into darkness… and then, the painting came to life. Under the faint phosphorescent glow, Judith's face appeared before her—ethereal and perfect, captured in every brushstroke. It was such a vivid image that it seemed to look back at her, with that mixture of sweetness and strength that had unknowingly captivated her.
Mel fell to the floor, defeated. She stayed there, sitting in front of the painting, hugging her knees, as the weight of her own discovery crushed her.
"Why… why did I fall in love with you?" she whispered in a trembling voice, eyes fixed on the portrait.
Panic overtook her. It wasn't mere attachment or a habit disguised as affection. She knew it for certain: she had fallen in love with Judith. With the way she looked at her, her brief laugh, the calm her presence brought. And she had recognized it, ironically, thanks to Judith herself, who had unwittingly taught her to distinguish between love and fondness, between companionship and what truly hurt to lose.
Before, Mel longed to feel something so deep, so real, but now that desire had turned into torture. She had fallen in love with the one person she should never have fallen for: her wife by contract. It felt like a cruel joke of fate, an irony mocking her from some corner of the universe.
"Why… why did I fall in love with the only woman I'll never be able to have?" she repeated, staring into the void. "Her heart already belongs to someone else…"
Her voice broke as she spoke. She wanted an answer, a logical explanation, something to give meaning to her pain, but all she received in return was the silence of the studio. And, as if that weren't enough, an even more devastating thought took hold of her mind: she had to keep pretending.
There were still nine months left on the contract. Nine months of living together, of forced smiles, of pretending nothing had changed. Nine months of waking up with Judith in the same room, knowing her love grew with every glance, every accidental touch, every kind word.
How could she hide it when she already felt it in every fiber of her being? And if Judith discovered it… how could she explain that she had fallen in love with her without making her feel guilty for unknowingly nurturing those feelings?
Mel brought her hands to her face, desperate. Love—the very feeling she had always admired in others—was now her greatest punishment. Because, for the first time, she understood it in all its magnitude… and she knew she could never have it.
Mel couldn't sleep that night. She was so disturbed that it showed in her eyes, wide open with the guilt she felt.
Guilt gnawed at her slowly. She wanted to believe what she had discovered wasn't true, that it had all been the product of desire or confusion, but every time she closed her eyes, Judith's face appeared before her—so clear, so close, so impossible.
At dawn, exhausted and with her heart in pieces, she made a decision. Perhaps the hardest one of her life: she would bury her feelings. She would hide them in the deepest part of herself, where neither reason nor heart could reach them. She would do it for the good of everyone—for her family, for Judith's family, but above all, for Judith.
Because if her grandfather discovered that she harbored real feelings for her wife, that fake marriage hanging by a thread would never have an ending. It would not only destroy the agreement but also the woman she loved.