I woke up all of a sudden.
My body was still warm, heavy with sleep, but something was missing. Before I even thought, I turned my face toward the other side of the bed.
Empty.
The sheet was stretched out. Cold.
I sat up in one sharp motion.
— Vicente? — I called, my voice coming out a little louder than I meant it to.
Nothing.
I looked around, as if he could be there, standing in some corner, as if that would make any sense. The room was too quiet… I ran a hand through my hair, my heart beating fast for no clear reason.
— Vicente? — I called again.
That's when I heard it.
Voices, low laughter, tools striking metal.
They were coming from the shop.
I recognized his voice instantly.
— Idiot… — I muttered to myself, swinging my legs out of bed.
I got up grumbling, tugged my T-shirt down on reflex. My head was still too foggy to keep up with my body, but one thing was clear: him working in the shop made no sense at all, with that ugly cut on his arm, like nothing had happened.
I left the room without thinking much.
I hurried down the narrow hallway, almost tripping, pushed more by irritation than by urgency. The shop door was open.
I went in.
The smell of oil and grease hit first. Then the low radio, mixed with laughter. Val was leaning near the workbench, saying something I didn't even register. The other employee laughed, a wrench still in his hand.
The moment I appeared, both of them stopped.
Their eyes dropped on me almost at the same time. It wasn't blatant — it was automatic… too quick to hide.
I barely had time to look around for Vicente.
Vicente was bent over the hood of a car, focused on something I couldn't identify. When he noticed the strange silence, he turned.
His eyes met mine.
Immediately.
He straightened up in a startle, shut the hood harder than necessary, and walked toward me with quick steps.
— Melissa, what are you doing here? — he grumbled, low but firm. — And like that?
Before I could answer, he slipped his good arm over my shoulders. The gesture was instinctive, almost rough with how fast it happened. He pulled me close to his body, turning me slightly away from their stares.
— Are you out of your mind? — I complained, trying to keep up with his pace. — You shouldn't even be here, look at that arm!
— We'll talk about it later — he murmured, not slowing down.
He didn't look back. He just took me with him.
I crossed the shop practically being dragged, feeling the heat of his hand firm on my shoulder — like he was shielding me from something I only understood afterward.
As soon as we stepped inside the house, he shut the door behind us.
Silence dropped all at once.
He let out a breath, ran a hand through his hair, and looked me up and down, finally stopping.
— You can't go out like that — he said, now in a lower tone, less irritated, but still tense.
I crossed my arms.
— I woke up and you weren't there — I said. — When I heard your voice coming from the shop, I came out without thinking.
He frowned.
— I just went over there to make sure they weren't slacking off. Two minutes.
— With that arm?
— Melissa…
— Vicente, you're bleeding again.
He glanced at his own arm like he'd only remembered it now.
— It's nothing.
— Of course it is — I snapped. — You always say that.
For a few seconds, neither of us said anything.
Then he sighed, defeated.
— Sorry — he said. — I didn't think.
I nodded slowly.
My anger eased little by little, and calmer now, I noticed his arm was still resting lightly across my shoulders, like he hadn't realized he didn't need to hold me anymore.
I didn't step away. I just looked at him… and it took him a moment to notice, until he froze for a second.
Then he pulled back like he'd touched something too hot.
— Sorry — he said quickly, taking a step back. — I didn't mean to.
My face heated up instantly.
— It's fine — I answered, too fast.
I didn't wait for anything else. I turned and went straight to the room, yanking open the wardrobe almost violently. I crouched, pulled the first-aid kit from the drawer, and came back before the silence between us got too heavy.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his injured arm resting on his leg, waiting for me.
I knelt in front of him without saying a word.
— Let me see that properly.
I removed the gauze carefully. It was dirty, stained with fresh blood. I did everything slowly, too focused on what my hands were doing to think about anything else.
I cleaned the cut gently. He took a deep breath when the cotton touched his skin.
— It stings — he said.
— It'll pass — I replied, without looking up.
I applied the medicine, blew softly. Then I placed clean gauze and taped it down, adjusting it well.
When I finished, I raised my eyes.
— Have you eaten anything?
He shook his head.
— I was waiting for you to wake up so we could have breakfast together.
I sighed.
— Then stay right there, I'll figure it out.
I stood and went to the kitchen. I opened the fridge, then the cupboard, almost on autopilot.
— Open the first door — he said behind me.
I looked over my shoulder.
— Why?
— Just open it.
I did.
Chocolate-covered donuts. Two cups of coffee beside them.
I closed my eyes and let out a loud sigh.
— Vicente… I can't believe this…
— Before you start — he cut in quickly. — I didn't go buy it, I sent Val.
I turned to him, unable to stop the smile. I grabbed the box of donuts, the coffees, and brought everything to the table. He was already sitting down, watching it all with a satisfied look.
— If you keep this up — I said, opening the box — I'm going to end up going home with cheeks the size of balloons.
He smiled.
— I don't see any problem with that.
I stared at him, incredulous.
— Easy for you to laugh when you're not the one who's going to look like a full moon.
Vicente rested his elbow on the table and looked at me closely.
— I don't think you'd look ugly with chubby cheeks.
I grabbed a donut, already bringing it to my mouth.
— I would.
He tilted his head, thoughtful.
— You'd look… cute.
I froze.
The donut stopped halfway. My face heated again, too fast to hide. I lowered my gaze, bit the sweet, and started chewing like it was the most important thing in the world.
— Idiot — I muttered, not daring to look at him.
I heard his low laugh from across the table.
I kept eating.
Because in that moment, it was the only thing I could do.
We stayed quiet until his phone buzzed on the table.
Vicente glanced quickly at the screen. He didn't frown, didn't sigh, didn't do anything that would draw attention. Still, I noticed.
— I'll be right back — he said, standing up with too much ease.
He picked up the phone and walked down the narrow hallway, speaking low as soon as he answered. I couldn't hear the words, only the muffled sound of his voice — far enough not to understand, close enough to know it wasn't just any conversation.
I took another bite of the donut without wanting to.
That's when Rosa's voice came back full force in my head, like she was there, leaning against the sink, speaking to me in a low tone that was too serious to ignore.
"My fear was never him being alone with a few injuries. My fear is him thinking he's already fine… and taking risks again too soon."
I swallowed hard.
The hallway went quiet for a few seconds, then I heard footsteps.
Vicente came back.
His face wasn't the same as minutes before. The lightness was gone, replaced by something closed-off, practical, almost distant.
— Something came up — he said, sitting back down at the table, but not touching the coffee. — I'll have to go out this afternoon.
My body reacted before my mind.
— Then I'm coming with you.
He lifted his eyes fast.
— No. It's work.
— Vicente…
— Melissa — he cut in, firmer. — I need to go alone.
I pouted without meaning to.
— You said you were going to rest.
— It's quick — he answered. — Less than an hour… I'll go and I'll come back.
I crossed my arms, stubborn.
— Don't push it — he added, softer now.
I let out a slow breath, grabbed another donut, and went back to eating, chewing slowly, pretending everything was normal. He stayed silent across from me, his gaze distant, like he was already somewhere else.
The coffee cooled.
And even with the sweet taste still in my mouth, I had the clear feeling that morning had ended too early.