Chapter 7

The autumn sun filtered through the silk curtains of the elegant Paris apartment. Amelia, now known as Margaret, watched from the window as her son, Mateo, played with his toys on the living room rug. His laughter filled the space, but Amelia's heart was torn between the joy of seeing him happy and the pain his very existence caused her. At three years old, Mateo was a living reflection of Lorenzo, both in appearance and mannerisms. Every day, watching him grow was a constant reminder of what she had left behind.

Despite the distance she had placed between her life and the man who had once been her husband, the last few months had brought her dangerously close to Lorenzo again. The collaboration between her company and his had been an initial success, but the constant virtual meetings and emails kept her teetering on the edge. Lorenzo had no idea that the woman saving his company was the same woman he had abandoned.

That morning, as she prepared breakfast for Mateo, she heard a question that caught her completely off guard.

-Mom -said Mateo, without looking away from his toys-, where is Dad?

Amelia felt the air leave her lungs for a moment. The question echoed in her chest like an unexpected blow. She had tried, for all three years of her son's life, to keep the truth hidden, to protect him from the pain of a story he was too young to understand. But there he was, staring at her with those same eyes that had once loved her... and destroyed her.

-Mateo... -Amelia tried to keep her voice steady, but her trembling hands betrayed her-. Dad isn't with us.

The boy tilted his head, confused by her answer. He didn't understand the complexities of the adult world but could sense the pain in his mother's gaze.

-Is he somewhere else? -he insisted, innocent as only a child could be.

Amelia closed her eyes for a moment, fighting back the tears that threatened to escape. She knew that one day she would have to tell him the truth. She would have to explain that his father, Lorenzo, was not just a powerful man but also the man who had once loved her, only to leave her alone in her darkest hour. That his father, unknowingly, had lost more than he could ever imagine.

-Yes, he's somewhere else -she finally said, gently stroking the boy's hair-. But we'll always have each other.

Mateo nodded, as if that answer were enough for now, and returned his attention to his toy train. Amelia, however, couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped between two worlds: the past that refused to let her go and the present she had fought so hard to build.

Hours later, when Amelia arrived at her studio, the clock marked the time for her next virtual meeting with Lorenzo. She took a deep breath before clicking on the screen to connect. Lorenzo's face appeared before her, more gaunt and tired than the last time she had seen him in person. The years without her seemed to have weakened him, though his gaze was still as intense as ever.

-Mr. Lorenzo -said Margaret with a cold, professional tone, hiding any trace of emotion-. I've reviewed the progress on the latest designs. I'm ready to discuss the next steps.

Lorenzo, unaware of the whirlwind of emotions behind that voice, nodded appreciatively. Every time he spoke with Margaret, he couldn't help but feel drawn to her confidence and business acumen, but there was something about her that vaguely reminded him of someone... someone he didn't dare name.

-Thank you, Margaret -Lorenzo replied, using the same formal tone he had adopted in recent meetings-. Your work has been invaluable to us. Honestly, I don't know how we could have continued without your help.

Amelia felt a knot form in her stomach. She knew her work was helping to save Lorenzo's company, but she also knew that every step she took in this collaboration brought her dangerously close to the truth. Lorenzo was closer to her than he realized, and at the same time, he couldn't have been further away.

-I'll be waiting for the changes you request -she responded, hoping to end the conversation quickly.

-Margaret, there's something I wanted to ask you -Lorenzo said suddenly, stopping her from disconnecting.

Amelia tensed. There was something different about his tone, more personal.

-Go ahead -she replied, maintaining her professional facade.

-Your voice reminds me of someone -Lorenzo said, almost in a whisper, as if revealing a long-kept secret-. I know this sounds strange, but every time I speak with you, I can't shake the feeling that I've met you before. Is it possible we've crossed paths before?

Amelia felt the ground crumble beneath her feet. Her heart raced, and for a second, she considered ending the call, fleeing before the truth surfaced. But instead, she took a deep breath and regained her composure.

-No, Mr. Lorenzo -she said firmly-. We've never met before. This is purely a business relationship.

Lorenzo looked at her through the screen, a mix of confusion and doubt in his expression. But finally, he nodded.

-You're right -he said, though his tone was not entirely convincing-. It must just be my imagination.

Amelia ended the call quickly, feeling as though she had been on the verge of collapse. She sank into her chair, exhausted, as her thoughts swirled around her. How much longer could she keep hiding the truth? Lorenzo was already starting to suspect, and sooner or later, the pieces would fall into place. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was playing a dangerous game from which she wouldn't emerge unscathed.

That night, as she watched Mateo sleep in his crib, Amelia couldn't help but wonder if her decision to keep Lorenzo in the dark had been the right one. She knew she was protecting her son, but she also knew that Lorenzo, in his desperation, wouldn't stop until he uncovered the truth.

Across the continent, in Madrid, Lorenzo stared at the empty screen after Margaret disconnected. A restlessness had followed him since their first meeting, and though he refused to admit it, something about her felt disturbingly familiar. He couldn't shake the feeling that Margaret and Amelia shared more than he knew, but he quickly dismissed the thought. Amelia was no longer part of his life, he told himself. Or at least, that's what he believed.

Lorenzo lay down in the bed of his desolate bedroom. Every corner of the room reminded him of Amelia, of the nights they had spent together, of the words left unsaid. Since she left, his life had lost its meaning. He had failed to sustain his empire, failed to understand the pain she had endured under the same roof as him, and now, night after night, guilt and regret kept him awake.