Chapter 17
The sound of the sea fills everything, like a deep breath that seems to keep time with the irregular beat of the night.
The waves reach the shore with a soft murmur, break against the damp sand, and retreat back into the darkness of the water, leaving behind a faint glow under the moonlight filtering through scattered clouds.
The Cantabrian Sea exhales a salty, fresh, almost biting breath, and that scent mingles with the trace of desire that still lingers on Rebeca’s skin.
Rebeca allows herself to walk slowly, in silence, with the cold sand slipping through her fingers with every step and the dampness caressing the soles of her feet with an almost electric sensation, a tingling that travels up her legs and tangles itself in her heart.
The night air brings with it the clean coolness that always appears when the city begins to fall silent, but that coolness cannot erase the heat that still burns beneath her clothes, in the places where Martina has touched her, scratched her, claimed her.
Their fingers are intertwined as she walks beside her.
That simple contact—the warm pressure of her hand, the familiar texture of her skin, the light brush of her thumb caressing the back of Rebeca’s—sends a shiver running through Rebeca’s body from head to toe.
It’s not a chill caused by the cold, though the sea breeze seeps through the folds of her jacket and makes the hairs on her arms stand on end.
It’s clearly the echo of their ragged breaths, the salty taste of Martina’s skin on her tongue, the way their bodies have sought each other out with a need that not even the years have managed to extinguish.
Every time she recalls what happened just a few minutes ago, her chest fills with a dizzying mix of emotions she doesn’t know how to make sense of.
Desire. Guilt. Relief. And a dangerous happiness she shouldn’t allow herself to feel, but which spreads inside her like ink in water, staining everything a dark, addictive red that floods that page bearing Martina’s name.
They walk in silence for a few meters, watching the moon’s reflection on the water.
The sky is clear, and the stars seem to have multiplied across the dark horizon, as if the night had decided to unleash all its brilliance just for the two of them.
Martina gently squeezes her hand. The gesture is almost imperceptible, but Rebeca feels it as if it had been amplified inside her chest, an extra heartbeat that syncs with the rhythm of her own.
She turns her head slightly, and Martina smiles in an intimate, more restrained gesture, as if she too were savoring this moment with the same sensations surrounding them.
Her eyes shine in the silvery light, and in them Rebeca sees the reflection of the feelings coursing through her but which she cannot confess right now.
Rebeca feels the skin on her arms prickle again. She watches her for a moment and then speaks.
“This is crazy, did you know that?”
Her voice breaks the silence softly, like a small stone falling into a pond.
Martina turns her head toward her. Her fingers tighten a little more around Rebeca’s.
“Crazy because…?”
Rebeca takes a second to answer. During that moment, the sound of the sea fills the space between them once more, a murmur that seems to shield them from the world waiting just a few meters away.
“Because I know what I’m doing isn’t right.”
“I know that too,” Martina says.
Her voice holds no excuses. No justifications.
Just an honesty that, for some reason, is harder to hear than anything else.
Rebeca looks at her again. Martina pauses.
The sand sinks slightly beneath her feet as she turns toward her.
Her fingers slip out of Rebeca’s hand only to seek it out again immediately, this time trapping both of Rebeca’s hands between her own, as if she needs to make sure Rebeca isn’t going to suddenly disappear.
“But it’s just that… when I saw you…”
Martina falls silent for a moment, searching for the right words. Her eyes shine in the pale moonlight, and Rebeca sees in them a vulnerability she hadn’t expected.
“When I saw you in front of the house…” she continues after a couple of deep breaths, “the first thing I thought was that fate had given us a second chance.”
Rebeca feels something tighten inside her chest. Part of her wants to cling to those words, to let them wrap around her like a warm blanket, but the other part clearly wants to run away.
“But you realize that… are we going to hurt someone who doesn’t deserve it?” The words come out of Rebeca’s lips with a mix of sadness that forces her to lower her gaze to the sand and slowly shake her head. Cold air fills her lungs. “Someone who was also caught up in all that.”
The mere idea of Julia suffering causes an uncomfortable pang to pierce Rebeca’s chest, though she takes a deep breath afterward.
For years she had tried not to think too much about that part of the story, about the way everything ended up getting mixed up until it became unrecognizable. However, now it’s impossible to ignore.
Because deep inside her, a pang of jealousy stirs that she can’t help but feel either.
“Of all the people around us,” Rebeca says, “I never thought you’d end up marrying Julia.”
Martina looks down for a second. The wet sand reflects a strip of silvery light that shifts with the advancing waves.
“Maybe I didn’t either,” she replies. “But I already told you at the bar…” She looks up again. Her eyes seek Rebeca’s with an intensity that makes her take a mental step back. “My marriage isn’t as perfect as it seems. In fact… I don’t think it’s even a marriage anymore.”
The words hang between them. Rebeca perceives something in Martina’s face she hadn’t seen before that night.
A crack. An emotion she’s trying to hide but that escapes through those beautiful, perfect blue eyes.
Also in the way her fingers tighten slightly around Rebeca’s.
In the way her breathing seems to lose its rhythm for a moment.
Martina looks away toward the horizon. The darkness of the sea seems to absorb her thoughts, and for a few seconds, she thinks she won’t say anything else.
“You know what the worst part is?” Martina murmurs, almost to herself. “That when I’m with you, no matter how brief the time… everything else disappears. Julia. Work. The past. Only you remain. Only we remain.”
Rebeca swallows hard. The lump in her throat tightens.
“Don’t say that.”
“Why not?” Martina turns her head back toward her. “It’s the truth. And I’m sick of lying to myself.”
Rebeca feels the ground shifting beneath her feet, even though the sand hasn’t moved a single centimeter.
“So what do you suggest we do?” Rebeca asks, unable to look her in the eye. “Do we keep pretending this never happened? Or…?”
Martina squeezes her hands tighter.
“I don’t know. But what I do know for sure is that I don’t want to lose you again.”
Rebeca closes her eyes for a moment. The wind ruffles her hair, and when she opens them, Martina is looking at her with a mixture of fear and determination.
“Tell me you feel it too,” she whispers, taking a small step toward her. “Tell me I’m not the only one who dies a little every time we run into each other on the landing and have to pretend there’s nothing between us anymore.”
Rebeca exhales shakily.
“Of course I feel it, damn it,” Rebeca admits without further ado. “Every time. Every damn time.”
Martina takes another step closer, and their foreheads almost touch.
“Then let’s not pretend anymore,” she says. “At least for tonight.”
Rebeca doesn’t respond with words. She just squeezes Martina’s fingers, and they start walking again, more slowly, as if they wanted to stretch out the time they have left before returning to the real world.
Silence falls over them once more. Rebeca feels the heat slowly rising through her chest as she remembers Martina’s fingers inside her, the way her thumb moved until it made her tremble, the taste of her mouth when they kissed against the rock.
She doesn’t know how long they keep walking like this.
The sound of the sea mingles with the rustle of their footsteps on the sand, with the gentle wind that ruffles a few strands of her hair.
But finally, the distant lights of the boardwalk begin to draw near, and the real world returns little by little, bringing its consequences with it.
Rebeca feels a distinct weight in her stomach when she sees the silhouette of the bar in the distance.
Before they arrive, Martina loosens her grip on her hand and their fingers slowly part, as if they both knew this was what had to happen before they went back inside.
The last touch disappears, but Rebeca’s skin retains the lingering sensation of that wonderful warmth.
They walk the last few meters in silence, and as they round the corner of the building, the sound of music returns, seeping through the half-open door. A life they must return to, no matter how much they don’t want to.
“Hey!”
Eva is the first to see them. She raises her hands in the air enthusiastically.
“We thought we’d lost you!”
Naima turns toward them with a broad smile, and Zule raises her glass.
“Or something even better.”
Laughter erupts among the group. Cora smiles too, leaning against the bar with an amused expression. The atmosphere is warm, lively, completely removed from the emotional whirlwind that Rebeca still carries inside her chest.
Ariadna approaches her almost immediately and leans in close to her ear to speak without the others hearing.
“I thought you were lost.” Rebeca tries to stay calm. Ariadna narrows her eyes as she watches her closely. “Is everything okay?”
The question seems simple. But Rebeca feels her heart pounding harder against her ribs. For a second, she thinks about everything that has happened in the last hour. The kiss in the alley. The walk along the beach. Martina’s words. The way her body still remembers every one of her caresses.
Then she looks across the group. Martina is talking to Cora.
She smiles as she says something Rebeca can’t quite hear.
That gesture—the soft curve of her lips, the way the bar’s light illuminates her face—triggers an immediate, undeniable reaction in her chest. A danger she no longer wants to resist. Because that danger is also tinged with love.
Rebeca looks back at Ariadna and nods.
“Yes, let’s have one last drink.”