Chapter 7

PaulaOkonkwo · 2026-08-21T06:04:17.253570Z

The part about wanting to feel his gaze on you again even though you know what he is, that's when I knew you'd write something real about this.

The 6:00 a.m. alarm didn't have to work hard; I had already been lying with my eyes open for half an hour, staring at the ceiling and measuring the exact distance between my bed and the line I had decided to cross. As I whisked the eggs for my parents' anniversary breakfast, my hands felt like they belonged to someone else. The aroma of coffee filled the kitchen with an almost insulting sense of normalcy, reminding me that for the rest of the world, today was a day of celebration, but for me, it was the countdown to 8:00 p.m.

I finished making the heart-shaped pancakes, decorated them with honey and blueberries, and brought them to the table. Just as I was finishing arranging the balloons and the mini-cake featuring a photo from the day they got engaged, I went back to the kitchen for the coffee.

—Hey, it looks beautiful," my mom said as she came down the stairs. My dad was right behind her. "Good morning. Happy anniversary, Your Majesties!" I greeted them with a smile.

They sat down, and I finished serving the coffee.

"Approve my works of art," I asked them. My dad laughed and played along:

"The five-star chef has prepared a very artistic menu for us."

My mom looked at the pancakes with tenderness.

“They look so cute, I almost don’t want to eat them,” she said, then glanced over at the cake. “Look at that photo—we were in the park, covered in paint,” she added with a laugh.

I watched as my dad served my mom a slice of cake. With a sweet smile, she took a sip from her coffee mug—which had the words “Big Boss” printed on it—as she enjoyed her pancakes. Love is a beautiful thing; seeing them together, I can’t help but imagine everything they had to go through to find each other in life.

"Hey, what are you thinking about?" My father's voice brought me back to reality.

"The love the two of you share," I replied.

"Yours will come soon enough," he assured me.

With a sigh and my gaze lowered, I answered:

"I don't think the time is right yet."

"It’s good that you’re here with us," my mom said gently. "So you can have the freedom you were never given, and make friends, go out, and meet new people."

"Okay, okay, I don’t want to cry," I interrupted, stopping myself before I got too emotional. "I’m going upstairs to change so we can head out."

As I walked up the stairs, I caught my mom whispering to my dad: "She still has scars that have been hard to heal, but her moment of happiness will come."

I went into my room, took a quick shower, and braided my hair, since I was going to help the guys at the auto shop today. I put on gray shorts, a light blue shirt, and my sneakers. I grabbed my backpack and headed back downstairs.

"Ready to go!" I announced. "Can I drive?" "You can drive on the way back," my dad promised with a smile.

We got into the car and arrived at the shop in half an hour. I greeted the workers and walked over to the head mechanic.

"Mr. Juan, I’m ready to learn today."

"You bet," he replied. "Go get changed."

I headed to the lockers, went into the restroom, and put on my work overalls. I took off my sneakers and put on my safety boots; you have to be

The guys laughed. An hour later, my mom came back with some watermelon juice to cool us down in the midday heat. She told us lunch would arrive in an hour and then headed back to the office. I spent that time with my notebook in hand, jotting down everything Mr. Juan explained to me about mechanics.

"Alright, you’ve spent enough time on theory," Mr. Juan said. "Today you’re doing your first hands-on task. You’re going to change the oil and fix the brakes on this car. It’s being picked up at three o'clock."

"Understood," I replied confidently.

I drained the oil in record time, though—like a true beginner—I ended up with black smudges on my face and overalls. Just then, my mother returned with lunch and asked if I wanted to eat with her in the office. I declined, not wanting to get grease on the sofas, and chose to stay and eat with the guys instead. She nodded and left.protected in a shop, but I felt ready and comfortable. As I came out, I heard my father speaking to the guys before he left:

"Take good care of the boss here. Don't let her get too dirty—last time, she looked like a lump of coal."

We finished lunch, rested a bit, and I got ready to change the brakes under Mr. Juan’s watchful eye. I rubbed my hands together, put on my nitrile gloves, and got to work. After securing the car on the lift and removing the wheel for safety, I carefully detached the caliper, taking care not to damage the hose. I removed the worn pads and used the piston press to prepare the caliper for the new ones, applying a bit of copper grease to prevent future squeaking. Once everything was reassembled, I tightened the bolts with a torque wrench and tested the pedal. I managed to finish the job at two-thirty in the afternoon. Just in time!

Mr. Juan meticulously checked the brakes.

"It's perfect," he approved with a nod.

At that moment, I saw a Hilux pickup truck drive by, and Alejandro, my dad's business partner, got out. When he saw me, he asked:

"Is Carlos here?"

"Yes, he's in the office with my mother," I replied, and watched him head that way.

In the few times I’ve been to the workshop, I’ve barely spoken to Alejandro; he is an extremely reserved man. I had turned back to continue chatting with Camilo when, suddenly, I heard a very familiar voice behind me; I turned around to see who it was. I knew that imposing height, that jet-black hair, and that distinctive style of dress—which never went unnoticed—all too well.

"Boss," Andres called out, "do you happen to have the keys to the car you fixed the brakes on?"

"I'll get them for you," I replied, trying to sound calm. I walked over to the key rack, grabbed the keys, and headed back toward him. I thought the layer of grease and oil on my face would work in my favor and keep him from recognizing me, which gave me a moment of relief. I forced myself to keep my nerves in check.

"Here," I said, holding out the keys. He took them, giving me a slight, half-smile.

"Can I test drive it?" Alex asked, fixing his eyes on me.

"Sure, no problem," I replied in a serious, professional tone.

"But I’d like you to come with me," he added, holding me with an intimidating stare that froze me in place. I didn't know what to say. Just as I opened my mouth to stammer something, my father’s timely voice interrupted the moment.

"Juan will go," my dad declared, appearing out of nowhere.

The tension in the air grew thick and heavy. Alejandro was right behind him and immediately chimed in:

"You don't mind if Juan goes along, do you?" Alex didn't answer. He simply turned around and got into the car with the mechanic. I took the opportunity to slip away to the lockers to change, leaving my dad chatting with Alejandro. In the restroom, I hurriedly washed my face and took off my overalls.

When I came out, Alejandro had already left and Juan was back. It was four-thirty in the afternoon.

"Mom, I'm going to the shop on the corner to pick something up; I'll be right back," I told her.

"Don't be long," she said.

I crossed the street at a brisk pace. I just wanted to walk, to keep moving, and to shake off the damn nerves his mere presence stirred up in me. As I walked along the sidewalk, a single question kept circling in my mind: Why do I feel the need to seek out danger? We were complete strangers, yet the whirlwind I felt in my chest was already overwhelming me. I knew exactly who he was and where he came from. I knew Alex was poison—a ruthless man trapped in a dark world that would ultimately consume me. I knew it all. And yet, as I walked along the sidewalk, I wanted nothing more than to feel the heat of his gaze on me again.

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