You and Carlos had been an unexpected couple from the start. Back in school, you were the quiet girl, always tucked away in a corner, braces glinting and glasses sliding down your nose as you flipped through your latest book. You were "the nerd”, the girl everyone teased. Carlos, on the other hand, was the quintessential bad boy. He dominated the soccer field, sped around in karts like a pro, and spent more time skipping classes than attending them. He wasn't mean-spirited, not the kind of bad boy to be cruel — but oh, how he loved to push your buttons.

The cliché was alive and well: the nerdy girl and the rebellious boy, worlds apart yet destined to collide.

Thirteen years changed everything. You were now 30, no longer the shy girl with braces, and yet... here you were, married to Carlos Sainz, of all people. A man who had softened over the years but retained that spark of mischief you’d once found so maddening. Together, you had a three-year-old daughter, Carmen, the living proof that life had a way of writing its own stories, far better than any cliché.

And now, the two of you were back in your old school gymnasium. The same dim lighting, the same small dance floor — the whole scene was practically a time capsule from your graduation night. Nostalgia swirled around you as you laughed with an old friend, recounting stories about your lively little Carmen.

Meanwhile, Carlos was at the bar, chatting with a group of his former school buddies. And of course, Olivier had something to say. "She? Seriously? There must have been so many models after you, and you married the school nerd” he quipped, a teasing grin on his face as if trying to stir something up. But Carlos didn’t flinch.