3 — Selena, is that you?

S E L E N A

I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the world and stop time from moving forward. But no matter how hard I wished, I knew it was futile. The hands of the clock would keep turning, the minutes would keep ticking by, and there was nothing I could do to change that. I felt like I was trapped, suspended in a moment that I couldn't escape.

It was a bitter feeling, knowing that I couldn't escape the fate that had already been designed for me.

Christopher must have sensed my nervousness, I felt his gentle hand take hold of mine, intertwining our fingers. I looked down to see his reassuring gaze, a soft smile playing on his lips.

He brushed his thumb against the back of my hand, a small gesture that sent waves of comfort through me. At that moment, I knew I wasn't alone.

I have him, a stranger who turned brother overnight.

“Lena, are you okay?” he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. I could barely hear him, but I knew what he was asking. I opened my mouth to answer, but the words wouldn't come. I just stared at him, unable to find the words to express what I was feeling.

I felt lost like I was drifting in a sea of emotions with no way to find the shore. But Christopher was there, his hand in mine, and I knew that somehow, I would make it through this with him by my side.

“Nothing,” I said with a forced smile, gently pulling my hand away from his. “It's nothing. I'm fine.” I added, looking out of the window and watching the cars speed past. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, but I kept my eyes fixed on the outside world, avoiding his questioning look. I didn't want to talk about what was bothering me, not right now.

As I sat there, in the passenger seat, I could hear Christopher let out a deep sigh as he put his hands back on the wheel, his attention returning to the road. “Is something bothering you?” he asked, his tone filled with concern.

I bit my lip, trying to decide how to answer his question. Should I open up and share what was weighing on my mind, or keep it to myself? I knew he was only trying to help, but I wasn't sure if I was ready to talk about it. Or if he would understand me.

How do I tell him we were back to the same one I had once run from? And worst, we were on our way to meet with the man who was behind my reason to flee the city.

I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could get a word out, Christopher interrupted me. “You've got that look on your face, the one that says something's bothering you. Don't try to lie to me and say everything's fine. Are you tired? Would you rather postpone this meeting?” His voice was full of concern, and I couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness.

“I'm just thinking about Liam,” I mumbled, half-truthfully. It was true that Liam was on my mind, but I didn't want to burden Christopher with the full weight of my worries. I didn't want him to worry about me when I knew he had so much else on his plate. “You don't need to worry about me,” I added, hoping he wouldn't see through my facade.

“What about him? Is it about his babysitter?” he asked, his eyes flicking over to me for a brief moment. I could tell he was genuinely concerned, that he wanted to make sure everything was okay with Liam. It was endearing, the way he cared so deeply about my son. But it also made me feel guilty for not being completely honest with him.

I nodded, not knowing what I would have said the issue was if he hadn't asked me that question.

“Don't worry, the agency assured me that he's in good hands,” he said, his voice full of reassurance. I felt a wave of relief wash over me, knowing that my son was safe with his babysitter. But what about him? What about Pedro, the baby's father, would he still recognize me?

“He's going to be just fine, now stop thinking about our boy… for now,” Christopher added, pulling into the parking lot of the conference centre.

As the car rolled to a stop, my heart skipped a beat. I could feel the weight of the moment, the anticipation of what lay ahead. I turned to look at Christopher, and I could see the excitement in his eyes.

“You ready?” he asked, a smile playing on his lips. I took a deep breath and nodded, ready to tackle whatever the day had in store for me.

I reached for my bag and files, getting ready to step out of the car, when I felt a gentle hand on my arm, stopping me in my tracks. I turned to look at Christopher, and he was smiling at me, his eyes full of affection. He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close, planting a soft kiss on my cheek.

“I'm here with you. You know that, right?” he whispered, his breath hot against my cheek. I could feel a lump forming in my throat, and I swallowed hard. I watched his hand crawl up to my head, which made me hold my breath.

As he ruffled my hair and gave me that smile, a wave of calm washed over me. It was like he had a magic touch, able to put me at ease with just a simple gesture. I felt my body relax, and I smiled back at him, grateful for his calming presence.

“Y-Yeah, thank you,” I let out, my voice still a little shaky as I gathered my bearings and stepped out of the car. I brushed my hair back into place and straightened my clothes, my eyes fixed on the ground. I felt a little self-conscious, but I looked up to see Christopher standing next to me, waiting patiently for me to collect myself. I took a deep breath, finally feeling a little more at ease.

“Ready?” he asked, his eyes full of gentle concern.

I nodded, and we started to make our way toward the conference centre, our steps in sync.

As we walked toward the hotel, I felt my nerves getting the better of me. My hands were trembling, and I could feel my heart racing in my chest. I was sure that everyone could see how anxious I was. My pace quickened, my feet moving faster as I tried to outrun my anxiety.

It wasn't the meeting that was making me nervous, it was the fact that I was about to see him again after all this time. My palms were clammy, and I felt a wave of heat wash over me, even though the air conditioning was blasting. I felt a mix of emotions - anticipation, and fear all swirling around inside me.

The conference room door opened, and Christopher stepped inside. I followed close behind, my heart pounding in my chest as we entered the room. Two men were seated on a couch, their eyes fixed on the empty chairs across from them.

My legs turned to jelly, and I nearly lost my footing when I saw him. He was sitting there, his back to me, but I couldn't recognise him anywhere. It had been three years, but he was still the same - the same broad shoulders, the same dark hair, the same confident posture. I felt like I couldn't breathe like I was frozen in place. I couldn't move, I couldn't speak, I couldn't do anything but stare at him in disbelief. After all this time, after everything that had happened, he was right there in front of me.

I didn't know I had stopped walking until I heard a faint voice of Christopher, calling out to me.

“Hey, Lena?” I heard Christopher's voice, faint and distant as if I was underwater. It was only then that I realized I had been holding my breath. I gasped, a sharp intake of air filling my lungs, and I felt the world come back into focus. I blinked, trying to get my act together, but I couldn't.

I couldn't bring myself to say anything, I couldn't reply to him as my heart was beating crazily in my chest.

“Lena?” he whispered yet again, his voice barely audible above the sound of my racing heart. What is the matter? Are you okay?” I could tell he was trying to keep his voice down, not wanting to draw attention to us. But I couldn't bring myself to answer him, my mind still reeling from the shock of seeing him there.

“I, um,” I stammered, trying to come up with an excuse for my strange behaviour. But as I looked up, I saw that the two men were now staring at us, their eyes boring into mine. I felt a rush of panic, my heart beating even faster. I didn't know what to do, or how to react.

My mouth hung open, my words caught in my throat, as I watched him stand up from the seat, his eyes wide with disbelief. It was as if he had seen a ghost as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. I was frozen, my body refusing to cooperate as I tried to move. I felt like I was stuck in some sort of dream, unable to wake up from the nightmare that was unfolding in front of me. And then, suddenly, he was right in front of me, his hand reaching out to touch my arm.

“Selena?” he whispered, his voice full of wonder and disbelief. “Is that really you?” He reached out, his fingers brushing slightly against my arm, and it felt like my world had come to an end.

How can I still have a soft spot for him, even after everything that happened? After he pushed me away and chose someone else over me, why is it that when I hear him say my name, my heart still beats a little faster?