Chapter Twenty-Five
I wake with a jolt to the shrill sound of my alarm blaring.
With my eyes firmly closed, I grumble under my breath and mute my phone, snoozing it for ten minutes so that I can come around in peace before it disturbs me again.
Slowly but surely, I blink awake, my eyes adjusting to the unfamiliar surroundings. It takes a moment for reality to settle in, but when it does, a soft smile spreads across my face.
Santi’s penthouse.
I glance to my side, where he is still fast asleep and snoring softly, apparently not phased at all by my phone’s disruption.
He’s lying on his stomach, the sheets draped low across his muscular back, revealing the expanse of his broad shoulders and toned arms. His face is turned toward me, his handsome features relaxed in an uncharacteristic way.
For a moment, I just watch him, my fingers idly tracing the edge of the sheet where it rests against his skin. It’s so lovely to see him like this; soft and undisturbed, peaceful and somewhat vulnerable.
As much as I would love nothing more than to have a lazy morning in this beautiful penthouse with my gorgeous boyfriend, I still have a job to get ready for and go to - at least for a few more weeks, anyway .
I sit up slowly in the huge bed, careful not to disturb him as I reach for the robe hanging over the back of the nearby armchair. Wrapping it around myself, I pad out as quietly as I can into the living room, the chill of the hardwood floors a stark contrast to the warmth of the morning light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
The view is breathtaking. The entire city sprawls out below me, only just beginning to stir.
Another beautiful morning in Spain.
There’s a distinct sound of soft footsteps behind me, and I turn to see Santi leaning against the doorway, his hair tousled and his green eyes still heavy with sleep. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of light grey sweatpants, well and truly showing off his sculpted physique.
“Morning,” he says, his voice husky and warm, his accent thicker than usual.
I can’t help but smile at the sound of it. “Morning,” I reply.
He smiles in return as he crosses the room, pulling me into his strong arms without a word. The warmth of his body against mine is blissful, and I let myself relax into his embrace, resting the back of my head against his chest as we both look out toward the city.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice low as he rests his chin on top of my head.
I nod, though I know he can sense the hesitation in my movements.
“You’re overthinking,” he says, his tone teasing but gentle.
I pull back slightly to look at him, my fingers idly playing with the hem of his sweatpants.
“I just... I don’t want to ruin this. Whatever this is. ”
“What? You’re not going to ruin anything,” he says firmly. “We’re in this together, remember? Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”
The sincerity in his voice makes my throat tighten, and I nod, leaning into his touch.
“Okay,” I whisper.
He smiles, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before pulling me back into his arms.
∞∞∞
The rest of the week passes by without any further trouble, though the lingering tension from the encounter with the aggressive paparazzi along with the hushed whispers around the school stays with me. Still, I manage to push it all to the back of my mind, instead burying myself in lesson plans and focusing on keeping up the momentum for the upcoming exams.
Little by little, I begin to feel normal again.
Or at least something close to it, anyway.
By the time the bell rings on Friday afternoon and signals the end of the school day, it’s like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.
I did it. I made it.
The familiar sound of students laughing and jeering as they leave the building fills the air, and I take my time to tidy over my empty classroom and gather up my things, letting most of the chaos die down before I step out .
There’s a new sense of calm in the finality of a week completed, a brief respite from the pressures that seem to follow me everywhere lately, and I can finally breathe again.
Walking through the courtyard, I inhale a long breath through my nose, letting the warm air fill my lungs. The sun is still shining and the day is certainly not done, but for the first time in weeks, I feel like I have a moment that’s completely mine.
The school grounds are quieter now given that most of the students have already headed home, but as always, there’s a few stragglers lingering around. The familiar clang of a gate closing catches my attention, and I glance over to see a group of my older students waving as they head out.
“Bye, profesora!” one of them calls, her voice carrying across the courtyard.
“Bye!” I call back, waving with a genuine smile. “Have a good weekend!”
It’s a small thing, really; but after an unsettling week of whispers and curious glances, moments like this remind me that not everything in my life is dictated by my connection to the famous Santiago Ortiz.
The weight of the week begins to slip away as I make my way home, replaced instead by anticipation for the evening ahead.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, Sarah’s name flashing across the screen as I pull it out.
Can’t wait for tonight! You ready for a proper night out? Heaven knows you’ve earned it.
I smile at her words, feeling a flicker of excitement bubble up in my chest.
Tonight will be different. A chance to let my hair down, have fun and feel like myself again.
I’m so excited! I respond -
And I actually mean it.