‘Yes.’ I walk towards him, my stomach in knots.
‘And?’ He spins abruptly, pinning me with the full force of his attention so I almost lose my footing.
‘Thank you for amending them so completely.’ My smile wobbles. ‘These terms are more than fair.’
‘They’re what you requested.’
‘I don’t think I expected you to grant them.’
‘I saw no point in denying you.’
I stand opposite him, hope bursting through me, because surely he’s admitting to something more? Surely he was so generous with my requests because he cares for me on some level?
‘Why not?’ The words rush out of me, husky and desperate.
His eyes narrow. ‘Negotiating leads to delays. I want to begin construction immediately.’ He looks at the papers once more. ‘So, if you’re ready?’
Disappointment is fierce. Of course it’s business. It’s always business with Santiago.
I nod jerkily, but don’t reach for the pen.
‘I...’
What? What was I going to say?
His eyes pierce mine. He waits. My uncertainty grows. We feel like strangers––no, not strangers. It’s worse than that. There’s antipathy coming from Santiago, hitting me straight in the face.
‘
You’re angry with me,’ I say, sure I’m right.
His only response is to square his jaw.
‘Why?’ I ask, pushing the point.
‘I’m simply impatient for you to sign these documents so our business together is concluded. Bueno?’
Frustration slices through me. ‘Why are you talking to me like a stranger?’
‘Isn’t that what we are now?’
My lips part. I go to deny it but pride keeps me silent. I feel the burn of tears behind my eyelids and move quickly, leaning forward and grabbing the pen, staring at the table while I flip through the contract, adding my signature at the bottom of the last page. But when that’s done I stay as I am, not wanting him to see the emotion in my eyes, needing a moment to steady myself.
A single tear rolls down my cheek and thuds on the table. Embarrassed, I spin away from him, striding towards the window and staring out at the city without really seeing.
‘Thank you.’ For a second I think I hear something in his voice, something soft, apologetic even, but then his footsteps sound and I realise he’s leaving.
I whirl round, sadness shifting to anger with lightning speed. ‘So that’s it?’ He stops walking but doesn’t turn round to face me.
Fury zips across my body. ‘Is this how it goes, Santiago? You’ve had your fun with me and now I’m persona non grata to you? I had no idea this is how you treat your ex-lovers.’
At that, he whips round, his eyes like coal.
‘How should I treat you, Princesa?’
I flinch at that, the weaponizing of a title he’d made so sexy and intimate now used almost as an insult.
‘I’d settle for a modicum of respect—a hint of cordiality.’