POV: Marc Bernal

She looked too good. Like way-too-good good.

The second we stepped into the restaurant, I knew I was in trouble. Every single head turned, and I couldn’t even blame them. The dress, the heels, that smug little smile she gave when she knew she had the whole room watching her. Yeah, she knew exactly what she was doing. And I hated how much I liked it.

We weren’t together. Not officially. Just close — too close, maybe. Late-night calls, lingering looks, inside jokes that made the rest of the team roll their eyes. She called me her best friend. But the way she touched my arm sometimes? The way her fingers curled around my hoodie sleeves when she was cold? That wasn’t just friends.

Tonight, I brought her with me. Maybe to show her off. Maybe to see what she’d do. Maybe because I just wanted her next to me for once, instead of watching from the stands like always.

And for a while, it felt perfect. She held my arm like it belonged to her. Laughed at my dumb jokes. Smiled up at me like I was the only one in the room.

But then Héctor happened.

He showed up like he owned the place, grinning too wide, walking a little too close. Talking to her with that cocky tone — like he thought he had a chance. And the worst part? She laughed. Tossed her hair. Bit her lip. I knew that laugh. I’d heard it on Facetime at 1 a.m. when she was half-asleep and too honest. That laugh was mine.

I clenched my jaw. Tried not to let it show. I kept sipping my drink like I didn’t want to throw it at Héctor’s face. I could feel something ugly clawing up my chest, but I swallowed it down. I wasn’t that guy.

I tried not to show it. I cracked a joke, let my arm rest behind her chair, leaned in a little more when she whispered something in my ear. Maybe too close. But she didn’t pull away. She never did.

Then came the moment — she looked up at me with that half-smile and said, “Come with me?”

Bathroom. A second of escape. I didn’t even hesitate.

We snuck through the hallway, her heels clicking beside me, and when we slipped through the door to the private hallway by the restrooms, everything felt quieter. Dimmer. Like the world outside the two of us didn’t matter.