Anthony's POV
The meeting dragged on. They spoke about things I understood but couldn't bring myself to care about. All I could think of was the woman sitting across from me — the woman I had come to see as a second mother — now pretending she didn't even know me. She was discussing business in a tone so serious, so distant, that I barely recognized her.
This wasn't the same woman who used to burn dinner while laughing with me in the kitchen. The same woman who teased me endlessly about her daughter, who gave me silly pet names. That version of her was gone — or at least, tucked away beneath the polished, elegant mask she now wore.
Still, her grace remained. That, at least, hadn't changed.
Throughout the meeting, my father occasionally threw casual questions my way — nothing I couldn't handle. Precela glanced at me now and then, giving small nods of approval when I answered. The meeting dragged on until, finally, it reached its painfully overdue end.
She gave me an unreadable look before continuing to chat with my father. I saw him smile at her — smile — which was unbelievable in itself. The man was normally a stone wall, yet here she was, charming him with ease. I excused myself.
Out on the balcony, I leaned on the railing, letting the breeze cool my thoughts. I heard footsteps behind me but didn't need to turn. The sound of her heels was unmistakable.
Precela came to stand beside me, offering a soft smile and a small shrug, like she wasn't sure what to say. She stood close and whispered, "Long day?"
I smiled faintly and nodded, unsure how to respond to this version of her. She ruffled my hair — still slick with product — and told me I looked handsome.
Then, just like that, she told me she didn't hate me for leaving Camila. Said it was obvious I still loved her. That we were just kids, with our whole lives ahead of us. That if something was meant to be, it would be.
"But sometimes," she added with a wink, "we're only human. We have to make our own luck."
For a moment, I wanted to ask her for a hug. She seemed to see it in my eyes and settled instead for a pat on the shoulder.
"Come by the house if you ever have questions," she said. "Or if you just want to talk."
I hesitated. "What if I run into Camila?"
She sighed. "Camila hasn't been home much. She's... seeing someone else."
My heart plummeted. I tried not to show it, but I think she saw through me anyway. She gave me a knowing look and muttered something — something about me being like my father in that regard — but I missed exactly what she said.
Before I could ask, she was already halfway back into the conference room, where my father sat watching her with what I swore looked like admiration. But maybe I imagined it. I told myself it was just business respect — nothing more.
Precela's POV
Well, my suspicions were confirmed: Anthony was Dean's son.
What a cosmic joke that was.
Still, he was a good kid. I'd always liked his energy, his spirit. Seeing him at that meeting was a shock — just as it had been for him. I hadn't expected to run into him, not like that.
Poor kid.
I didn't want to blow his cover or make things awkward with Dean, so I acted like I didn't know him. The last thing he needed was more pressure. That's why, when I saw him slip out to the balcony, I gave Dean some half-baked excuse about wanting to "pick his kid's brain" and went after him.
I invited him over — lied to him, actually. I told him Camila was seeing someone. Truth is, she isn't seeing anyone seriously. She just... hides. From him, from me, from herself.
If you ask me, they're both idiots. And they love each other.
The world isn't as complicated as they make it seem. If you love someone, fight for them. Be with them. That's the advice I wish someone had given me when I was their age.
I left Anthony on the balcony and wandered back to Dean — who, frankly, was his own brand of idiot.
We made small talk, danced around the obvious. Then he invited me to dinner, all casual-like, flashing that idle charm he's had since we were kids.
I turned him down at first, told him I had plans. That was another lie.
He saw right through it. He always does.
Eventually, I gave in and agreed to go. Told myself it was just a friendly dinner. Nothing serious.
But deep down, I knew it would be anything but.