Chapter 39

The invitation had arrived days earlier, embossed in gold on fine paper that exuded elegance. It was the birthday celebration of a renowned industry magnate, one of Margaret's key clients and, recently, an ally of Lorenzo. Although Margaret had tried to excuse herself, knowing attending meant sharing the same space as Lorenzo, business circumstances forced her to accept.

The evening took place in a grand Parisian ballroom, illuminated by chandeliers casting golden reflections on the marble walls. Margaret arrived in a classic black gown adorned with subtle beading that accentuated her figure. Her hair was styled in an elegant bun, exposing her neck, adorned only by a simple necklace she had designed years ago.

Lorenzo was already there when she arrived. His perfectly tailored dark suit, combined with his confident demeanor, made him stand out among the guests. When he saw her, a faint smile touched his lips, but Margaret avoided his gaze and approached the host to greet him.

The dinner was a display of luxury: exquisitely prepared dishes and formal conversations filled the air. Lorenzo, seated directly across from Margaret, didn't take his eyes off her for a moment. Every word they exchanged with others carried a subtext only they understood.

When dessert was served, and the live orchestra began to play, the host rose and invited everyone to dance. Couples moved to the center of the floor as the lights dimmed, creating an intimate and magical atmosphere.

Lorenzo seized the opportunity and approached Margaret.

-Would you grant me this dance? -he asked, extending his hand.

Margaret hesitated. She knew accepting would lead to dangerous territory, but under the watchful eyes of others-and her own conflicted emotions-she couldn't refuse.

-Just one dance -she replied, placing her hand in his.

He led her to the center of the floor as the notes of a waltz enveloped them. Lorenzo gently placed a hand on her waist while she rested hers on his shoulder. The closeness was inevitable, and with every turn, Margaret felt her heartbeat quicken.

-You look stunning tonight -Lorenzo whispered, breaking the silence between them.

Margaret averted her gaze, uneasy yet touched by his sincerity.

-We're not here to talk about that -she replied, trying to maintain composure.

Lorenzo allowed a faint smile.

-Maybe not, but I can't help it.

The music slowed, forcing them to move closer. Their eyes finally met, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away. Margaret could feel the weight of emotions she had tried to suppress, but also the danger of giving in to them.

-Lorenzo, this isn't... -she began, but he interrupted her.

-What, Margaret? Wrong? Impossible? Or just what you've been avoiding?

Before she could respond, Lorenzo leaned in, and their lips met in a kiss that was both unexpected and inevitable. The initial softness gave way to restrained passion, a mix of longing, regret, and unspoken love.

The ballroom seemed to freeze. Margaret felt the world tilt beneath her feet, but she didn't pull away from Lorenzo. For an instant, she allowed herself to forget the wounds of the past and the weight of their circumstances.

When they broke apart, both were breathing heavily, their faces mere inches apart. Margaret took a step back, her expression a mix of confusion and emotion.

-This can't happen again -she murmured, though her voice lacked conviction.

-Margaret... -Lorenzo began, but she shook her head.

-Not tonight.

Without another word, she turned and left the dance floor, leaving Lorenzo standing still, his gaze fixed on her retreating figure as she disappeared into the crowd. Each step she took felt like a pang in his chest, reminding him how fragile everything he was trying to rebuild truly was. Lorenzo closed his eyes briefly, breathing deeply, trying to calm the storm inside him. His chest filled with renewed determination: he wasn't going to give up so easily. But he knew that to win Margaret back, he'd have to prove himself-not just with words, but with actions.

In a corner of the ballroom, Margaret leaned against a column, her body tense and her hands trembling as one rose to her lips. She could still feel the warmth of Lorenzo's kiss, the intensity of a love she thought she had buried. Closing her eyes tightly, she tried to suppress the emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

-What am I doing? -she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible over the distant hum of music and laughter.

The kiss had stirred something deep within her-a blend of nostalgia and fear. She had tried to be strong, to keep her distance, but Lorenzo always seemed to find a way to break through her defenses. It was as if the universe wanted to remind her that, despite everything, he was still the man she had loved with every fiber of her being. But he was also the man who had broken her heart.

Margaret clenched her eyes shut, holding back the tears that threatened to spill. She couldn't allow herself to be vulnerable again-not with him. The scars she bore still hurt too much.

Meanwhile, Lorenzo remained on the dance floor, staring at the spot where she had disappeared. His jaw tightened, and his fists clenched at his sides. He wanted to chase after her, to tell her that this time was different, that he wasn't the same man who had let her go. But something held him back-perhaps the fear of pushing her further away.

Instead of following her, Lorenzo walked to the nearest table, where an abandoned glass of wine caught his attention. He picked it up and took a sip, trying to calm the turmoil inside him. But the taste of the wine wasn't enough to erase the sensation of her lips on his, the electricity that had coursed through his skin when he held her in his arms.

-Margaret... -he murmured, almost as a prayer to the air.

Across the room, Margaret finally forced herself to open her eyes. She watched the couples still dancing, oblivious to her internal storm. Her breathing was still uneven, and her mind was full of unanswered questions.

"Why now, Lorenzo?" she thought, biting her lower lip. "What's behind this? Is it real? Or are you just trying to fill the emptiness inside you?"

The thought made her straighten, her expression hardening with determination. She couldn't afford to fall again-not unless he was completely certain. Not if their past continued to cast a shadow between them.

But a small voice inside her, barely audible, whispered something different. A voice that wanted to believe that this time, Lorenzo was truly willing to fight for what they once had. A voice that desperately hoped that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for them.

Margaret shook her head, trying to silence that traitorous voice. She straightened her posture, adjusted her dress, and walked toward the ballroom exit. But with every step she took, the sensation of Lorenzo's lips on hers lingered, an echo she couldn't erase.

And Lorenzo, from across the room, watched her walk away once more, feeling something inside him break... but also vowing that this wouldn't be the last time he had her close.