Pascha was still standing there, so close that I could smell his signature scent, a mix of woody spices and something more familiar. But I didn't let myself be swept away. Not this time.I let out a sigh, pulled my phone from the back pocket of my jeans, and held it out to him. With a quick flick, I unlocked the screen and shoved it his way."Here. Read this."Pascha frowned but took the phone from my hand. His eyes swept the screen quickly, then his jaw hardened.I saw how his fingers gripped the phone tighter, and the look in his eyes, which had been full of judgment, now turned sharper and darker."What is this?" his voice sounded cold.I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, steadying myself. "Threats."He fixed me with a hard stare, waiting for more, but I simply lifted my chin, meeting his gaze without flinching."It was sent to Kyara. Right after the restaurant explosion."Pascha's breathing slowed, each rise and fall of his chest measured, controlled—like he was holding back
I stand in the centre of my small apartment, hands on my hips, my jaw clenched tightly, as my eyes sweep across the room.His backpack is leaning against the wall by the door, and his boots lie haphazardly next to the sofa. In the corner of the room, two of his jackets hang on a chair, one of them still with the folded sleeves I took off last week.And that's not counting my desk, which is now littered with random wires that clearly don't belong to me. I can recognize some of the electronic components he's left exposed, a series of circuit boards and microcontrollers that he seems to be assembling, for who knows what."Pascha."There was no answer.Amidst all the scattered items, Pascha sat comfortably on my couch. His feet rest on my small coffee table. His head rests against the back of my sofa, and, more annoyingly, he's playing my PlayStation.Or... what used to be mine. Because it's been months since I last touched that thing.His two thumbs moved quickly on the control stick, h
I woke up with a slight gasp, my chest rising and falling rapidly.It took me a few seconds to realize where I was—not in my little apartment in Cambridge, not in the middle of a heated argument with the overly annoying Pascha.I was in the present in San Francisco, in my beach house.But the remnants of that memory still lingered in my head, settling like a fog that was hard to dispel.I growled softly, rubbing my face roughly.Why did I have to dream of that?I took a long breath and turned to the large window beside my bed. The sea stretched out before me, its water glistening in the morning light that was beginning to creep up.Usually, this view was enough to ease my mind, but not this time.I ruffled my hair in frustration, then got up from the bed, walking straight to the bathroom.I didn't want to relive that past.I turned on the faucet and washed my face with cold water, hoping to wash away the remnants of memory still looming in my mind.After refreshed, I dried my face wit
My laptop was open on the table, rows of code filling the screen, moving quickly as I adjusted some parameters. In the right corner of the screen, the system diagram of the Lantum project is clearly displayed, an ambitious project that had occupied my mind from the start.I typed quickly, fixing the firewall I'd just developed for the main system. My team handled various other aspects, but the security part was still my responsibility. And I couldn't let this system have any loopholes.Project Lantum is everything right now.I've been absent for too long, and now, with this project finally underway, I have no reason to linger on my drama.My hands were still busy typing when my cell phone vibrated on the table.I took a quick glance at the screen.Then stopped breathing.Mamá.My fingers stop moving. For a moment, I just stare at the screen. There was a long pause before I finally swiped the green icon and answered the call."Hello," I said, my voice flat.For a moment, there was no s
"I'm telling you, Bumblebee is cooler than Optimus Prime!" Max's voice was shrill with conviction. "Even though I like Optimus, Bumblebee is like a soldier guarding him!""No way, Prime is the leader of the Autobots! He's stronger, wiser, and definitely cooler," Clara said in a challenging tone."But Bumblebee is faster! And he can talk on the radio! You only like Prime because he's the big boss, Cece!"I tried to stifle my laughter as I propped myself up in the doorway. The two of them stood facing each other on the sofa, Max with his arms folded across his tiny chest, while Clara sat dismissively."I just like characters who know how to make important decisions, Max.""No! Cece only likes leaders! If Transformers were a kingdom, Cece would choose Optimus to be the king!"Clara snorted. "Of course you would. And Bumblebee? Is he the royal guard?""He's a fighting prince!" Max lifted his chin, full of conviction.I couldn't help but laugh again. "Oh my, are you guys having a Transform
My steps feel light as I walk through the snowy streets of central Moscow. The cold wind bites my face, but I don't care. I've decided to take some time for myself today.Pascha Romanov, my fiancé, is, as usual, buried under a mountain of work. Even with our wedding day only a month away, it feels like I'm spending more time with his shadowy figure than his authentic self.As I turned the corner, my eyes fell on a magnificent church with golden domes rising into the grey sky.St. Sophia's Church.I was transfixed. Although I grew up in Bogota, Colombia, surrounded by old churches with stunning architecture, none were as beautiful as this one. Its dome reflected the gloomy light of the winter sun like the building had a light of its own."This is it," I muttered involuntarily.With my heart pounding, I imagined myself standing under the dome, wearing a white dress, with Pascha by my side. A smile was painted on my face.Would Pascha have time to see this place with me? Or, as usual, wo
Five years later.The screen in front of me flickered, red lines dotting what should have been smooth coding. I sighed heavily, loosened the buttons at the end of my sleeves, and then folded them quickly.In a room full of monitors, a small server buzzed in the corner, filling the silence with a monotonous rhythm."I don't know what's going on," I muttered, the frustrated tone clearly audible.My hands moved quickly over the keyboard, trying to track down the problem hidden among the thousands of lines of code.A voice from behind made me turn my head. "Come on, Belva, you're the team leader. You're the genius here."Ryan, one of the programmers on my team, stood at the door with a coffee cup in his hand. His smile was half playful, half challenging."I'm a genius, not a wizard," I retorted without looking at him again. My fingers continued typing, finding and fixing errors that seemed to appear out of nowhere."Well then, maybe it's time you learned magic," he replied with a chuckle.
Morning light seeps through the thin curtains in the living room. The smell of fresh coffee and toast filled the air, mixing with the sound of Max's laughter echoing in the kitchen. I sat at the small table with my laptop, typing fast to finish the report before the official work hours started.Max came running towards me, carrying a small backpack with his favourite superhero print. "Mommy, I'm ready!" he exclaims, his voice cheerful. His brown hair was a little messy, but his blue eyes sparkled with excitement.I smiled slightly, looking away from the screen. "Are you sure you didn't forget anything? Your hat, sunscreen, snacks, or lunch?"Max shook his head vigorously, swinging his backpack in the style of a hero about to save the world. "Om Ben said he'd bring everything!""And I never forget anything," Ben appeared in the kitchen doorway with two lunchboxes in his hands. His white shirt was neatly folded up to his elbows, and his usual easy smile graced his face. "Trust me, Siste
"I'm telling you, Bumblebee is cooler than Optimus Prime!" Max's voice was shrill with conviction. "Even though I like Optimus, Bumblebee is like a soldier guarding him!""No way, Prime is the leader of the Autobots! He's stronger, wiser, and definitely cooler," Clara said in a challenging tone."But Bumblebee is faster! And he can talk on the radio! You only like Prime because he's the big boss, Cece!"I tried to stifle my laughter as I propped myself up in the doorway. The two of them stood facing each other on the sofa, Max with his arms folded across his tiny chest, while Clara sat dismissively."I just like characters who know how to make important decisions, Max.""No! Cece only likes leaders! If Transformers were a kingdom, Cece would choose Optimus to be the king!"Clara snorted. "Of course you would. And Bumblebee? Is he the royal guard?""He's a fighting prince!" Max lifted his chin, full of conviction.I couldn't help but laugh again. "Oh my, are you guys having a Transform
My laptop was open on the table, rows of code filling the screen, moving quickly as I adjusted some parameters. In the right corner of the screen, the system diagram of the Lantum project is clearly displayed, an ambitious project that had occupied my mind from the start.I typed quickly, fixing the firewall I'd just developed for the main system. My team handled various other aspects, but the security part was still my responsibility. And I couldn't let this system have any loopholes.Project Lantum is everything right now.I've been absent for too long, and now, with this project finally underway, I have no reason to linger on my drama.My hands were still busy typing when my cell phone vibrated on the table.I took a quick glance at the screen.Then stopped breathing.Mamá.My fingers stop moving. For a moment, I just stare at the screen. There was a long pause before I finally swiped the green icon and answered the call."Hello," I said, my voice flat.For a moment, there was no s
I woke up with a slight gasp, my chest rising and falling rapidly.It took me a few seconds to realize where I was—not in my little apartment in Cambridge, not in the middle of a heated argument with the overly annoying Pascha.I was in the present in San Francisco, in my beach house.But the remnants of that memory still lingered in my head, settling like a fog that was hard to dispel.I growled softly, rubbing my face roughly.Why did I have to dream of that?I took a long breath and turned to the large window beside my bed. The sea stretched out before me, its water glistening in the morning light that was beginning to creep up.Usually, this view was enough to ease my mind, but not this time.I ruffled my hair in frustration, then got up from the bed, walking straight to the bathroom.I didn't want to relive that past.I turned on the faucet and washed my face with cold water, hoping to wash away the remnants of memory still looming in my mind.After refreshed, I dried my face wit
I stand in the centre of my small apartment, hands on my hips, my jaw clenched tightly, as my eyes sweep across the room.His backpack is leaning against the wall by the door, and his boots lie haphazardly next to the sofa. In the corner of the room, two of his jackets hang on a chair, one of them still with the folded sleeves I took off last week.And that's not counting my desk, which is now littered with random wires that clearly don't belong to me. I can recognize some of the electronic components he's left exposed, a series of circuit boards and microcontrollers that he seems to be assembling, for who knows what."Pascha."There was no answer.Amidst all the scattered items, Pascha sat comfortably on my couch. His feet rest on my small coffee table. His head rests against the back of my sofa, and, more annoyingly, he's playing my PlayStation.Or... what used to be mine. Because it's been months since I last touched that thing.His two thumbs moved quickly on the control stick, h
Pascha was still standing there, so close that I could smell his signature scent, a mix of woody spices and something more familiar. But I didn't let myself be swept away. Not this time.I let out a sigh, pulled my phone from the back pocket of my jeans, and held it out to him. With a quick flick, I unlocked the screen and shoved it his way."Here. Read this."Pascha frowned but took the phone from my hand. His eyes swept the screen quickly, then his jaw hardened.I saw how his fingers gripped the phone tighter, and the look in his eyes, which had been full of judgment, now turned sharper and darker."What is this?" his voice sounded cold.I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, steadying myself. "Threats."He fixed me with a hard stare, waiting for more, but I simply lifted my chin, meeting his gaze without flinching."It was sent to Kyara. Right after the restaurant explosion."Pascha's breathing slowed, each rise and fall of his chest measured, controlled—like he was holding back
I pushed through the white picket fence and stepped into Kyara's front yard. The smell of fresh grass mixed with the salty odor of the ocean not far away. The San Francisco air is cool, and the coastal breeze blows gently, making my hair a little messy as I knock on the door.It doesn't take long before the door opens, revealing Kyara already standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips.“You finally came too, Moguel. I almost thought you'd forgotten about this lunch.”“Sorry for being late, a lot of work.” I just shrugged, following Kyara into the well-organized dining room. On the table, there were several dishes-seafood pasta, fresh salad, and steaming onion bread. I raised one eyebrow, sitting on the chair comfortably.“Since when can you cook like this?” I asked, smelling the tantalizing aroma of the plate in front of me.Kyara pulled out her chair, sitting down casually before pouring white wine into her glass. “Since I got tired of takeout. Besides, I've had plenty of tim
My body is warm. Too warm.I was drowning in a strange comfort, the firm plane chest, the regular breath wafting down my neck, and the strong arms wrapped tightly around my waist, keeping me trapped in something all too familiar.But this...This is not Max.Instantly, I opened my eyes.The morning light was already coming in through the gap in the curtains, refracting its golden rays across the room. And in front of me—too close—is Pascha.Pascha.His head nestled in the crook of my neck, his warm breath brushing against my skin, while one arm was held around my waist, tight ike I stil belonged to him and would not be let go.My chest tightens.How did he get from the other side of the bed to here?!I swallowed, preparing to push his body away, but before I could move, an annoyed grunt sounded from the other side of the bed."Mommy! Daddy's cheating!"I turned around quickly, finding Max sitting on the other side of the bed with an expression full of complaints. The boy crossed his a
It's late at night.The San Francisco air feels cooler as the breeze from the ocean breaks through the crack in the kitchen window.Max had been looking sleepy for an hour, but as usual, he refused to admit his defeat to sleepiness. He kept running around the house, driving around Pascha's house in his new yellow mini porche, which Pascha said he had ordered directly from the car company, and babbling endlessly about how he could beat all the Autobots with his new robot.I finally approach the front door, preparing to head back to my own house, literally right next door to Pascha's, Max suddenly appears from behind, standing directly in front of me with his arms outstretched, blocking my way.I frowned, seeing him looking at me with a serious expression."Where are you going, Mommy?" he asked in a suspicious tone.I raised my eyebrows. "Home....?"Max snorted loudly, looking at me as if I had just said something outrageous. "No!"I blinked, confused. "Why? Mommy's house is next door.
My fingers moved deftly, removing the onion skin. The knife moves nimbly on the chopping board, slicing the onion, each thin slice falling into the bowl. A tangy aroma instantly fills the air, mingling with the fragrant remains of the dough Pascha failed to make earlier.Clara stands beside me, her sleeves rolled up, and without prompting, she begins cleaning up the mess left behind by Pascha."Are we making arepas too?" Clara asks, putting the remaining potato skins in the trash.I glanced over her. "If Pascha have white cheese, why not?"She walked over to refrigerator, pulling out the ingredients without asking: cornmeal, cheese, and butter. Everything was on the table in less than a minute. Her hands deftly started mixing the arepas without needing my signal.I returned to the piece of meat I was washing under cold water. It was a thin piece of flank steak for sobrebarriga, a dish that is supposed to be slow-cooked, but I knew how to speed up the process without sacrificing flavor