Bella

The change in the frequency of Marco's calls left me feeling unsettled. I couldn't help but wonder if I had done something to push him away. While he still answered my calls, the conversations were shorter, less frequent. The distance, it seemed, was taking its toll on us. My mind constantly circled back to him, especially in moments of quiet, like now at the dinner table, where I found myself lost in thought instead of engaging with my family.

My father's frustration about some family logistics barely registered as I stared at my phone, longing for a call that didn't come. It was Olivia's voice that pulled me back to the moment. "Why can't they come to New York?" my father was saying.

Olivia's response was immediate and, to my surprise, involved me. "His mom and aunt want to show us around Arizona, then Mexico. Come on, Dad, I'm marrying into their family. I should see what I'm getting into. Bella will come with me and keep me safe."

I was caught off guard as she gripped my arm, signaling our apparent unity in this plan. "Fine," my father relented, his willingness to accommodate Olivia's wishes contrasting sharply with his usual demeanor towards me.

We hurried upstairs, and I finally asked her, "Why did you volunteer me to go to Arizona?"

"Because Marco is there," she said, her smile knowing.

"What does he have to do with anything?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

"Don't play dumb. I think it's great," she said before walking away.

Left alone with my thoughts, I couldn't help but worry that perhaps Marco had rekindled something with Keta. The idea pained me more than I cared to admit. The uncertainty of where we stood and what his silence meant was a constant nagging worry. As much as I tried to focus on the positives – the upcoming trip to Arizona, being with my sister – the fear that I might be losing Marco to someone from his past overshadowed everything else.

The warmth in Phoenix did little to ease the chill of uncertainty I felt as we landed. Felipe had arranged for a car to pick us up, and despite my attempts to reach Marco, he remained unresponsive. The silence was unlike him, and it left me with a knot of anxiety.

At the hotel, we were greeted by Felipe's mother, Angela, and Marco's mother, Sonnette. Their embrace was welcoming, enveloping Olivia like a long-lost family member. I was introduced as Olivia's sister, and their hugs were equally warm, though their primary focus was understandably on the bride-to-be.

As Angela and Olivia engaged in animated conversation, Sonnette turned to me with a knowing smile. "The woman who has my son's heart," she said, her eyes twinkling.

Her words took me by surprise. "I'm not sure about that," I confessed. "I can't even get him to return a call."

Sonnette's smile didn't falter. "He's hardheaded, but when he first met you, he called me. The excitement in his voice was unmistakable." She paused, adding a touch of drama to her words. "He told me you're the one."

She then rejoined the conversation with Angela and Olivia, leaving me to process what she had said. Her words were a balm to my troubled thoughts, suggesting that my fears about Marco and Keta might be unfounded. The idea that Marco had spoken so openly about me to his mother, that he had shown a side of excitement and vulnerability, gave me a renewed sense of hope.

As dinner progressed, I found myself lost in thought, reflecting on Sonnette's revelation. It painted a picture of Marco that I hadn't seen, one that was open and eager, a stark contrast to the distant demeanor he had displayed recently. The possibility that I could be 'the one' for him, as his mother put it, filled me with a mixture of joy and apprehension. What did this mean for us, for our future? The questions swirled in my mind, but for the first time in days, they were tinged with a sense of optimism.

Dressed in one of Olivia's daring white dresses and towering pumps, I was ready to face whatever the night had in store, even though part of me was secretly hoping for a glimpse of Marco. As we made our way into the club, the atmosphere was electric, the vibe relaxed yet buzzing with energy. Felipe had arranged for us to meet him in a private area, a world apart from the crowded dance floor.

Ascending the stairs, my heart sank. There they were - Marco and Keta, sitting together. It was as if my worst fears had materialized right before my eyes. I managed to find a seat, trying to catch Marco's eye, but it was as though I was invisible to him.

Before I could process this painful scene further, a man approached me. "Hello," he greeted with a friendly smile.

I responded half-heartedly, "Hi," not really in the mood for conversation.

"I'm Rick, Keta's brother," he introduced himself, drawing my full attention at the mention of Keta's name.

"Bella," I replied, offering a handshake as he took the seat beside me.

His next words were a mix of charm and cheesiness. "I admit I was ready to go until I saw you."

I couldn't help but laugh at the line. "Please, I hope that line has never worked."

His laughter joined mine. "If it gets me to see a beautiful smile like that, then it was worth it."

As we laughed, I noticed Marco getting up, his expression a mixture of anger and something else. He left Keta sitting there alone. Seizing the moment, I excused myself from Rick and followed Marco, determined to confront the tension that had been building between us.

My heart pounded as I weaved through the crowd, my mind racing with questions and emotions. The uncertainty of where we stood, the sight of him with Keta, and now this unexpected jealousy - it all converged into a moment of reckoning. I needed answers, and I needed them now. As I caught up to him, I braced myself for the conversation that was to come.

"Marco, wait!" I called after him, but he kept moving, his pace fueled by frustration.

Catching up, I confronted him. "Why are you here? I asked you to trust me," he said, turning around, his anger palpable.

I was struggling to piece it all together. "So you ignore me for a week, and when I come to Arizona and see you with Keta, I'm the one who's supposed to feel guilty?" I asked, my voice rising in confusion and hurt.

"I don't like surprises or inconveniences," he replied tersely.

"Inconvenience?" The word stung, echoing painfully in my ears. "You asked me to be yours, and now I'm an inconvenience?" It was all too much, the frustration, the uncertainty, the hurt, and my voice cracked, betraying the tears that threatened to fall.

"I didn't mean it like that," he tried to explain, but his words fell flat.

"Yes, you did," I countered, my heart sinking. "I'll stop calling you, showing up, and anything else that could inconvenience you." I pushed past him, a mix of sadness and indignation coursing through me.

Heading back into the club, I found a seat at the bar. The noise and laughter around me felt distant, muted by the turmoil inside. I sat there, trying to compose myself, to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions. A part of me wondered if I had misinterpreted everything between us, if what I thought was a connection was just a fleeting moment in his heart. The thought left a hollow feeling in my chest, a sense of loss for something that perhaps had never really been mine.

The shots did little to numb the swirl of emotions I was feeling. As the world around me began to blur, I remained outwardly composed, determined not to let my guard down. Then, a stranger slid into the seat next to me, his smile more predatory than friendly.

"Hello, beautiful," he greeted with a sly grin.

"Hi," I replied, my head aching with more than just the alcohol.

"I'm having a bad night too," he said, attempting to commiserate.

But I wasn't in the mood for company. "I'm really not interested," I stated flatly, standing up to leave.

He stood as well, insistent. "But I want you to make it better," he pressed, stepping closer.

I turned to him, ready to defend myself if necessary, but before I could react, Marco appeared. He stepped in front of me, his fist connecting with the guy's face in one swift motion. The stranger crumpled to the ground, and Marco, fueled by a mix of protectiveness and anger, kept going until I intervened.

"Marco, stop!" I pulled him away, and he finally relented. Grabbing my hand, he led me out of the club and towards his car.

The intensity in his eyes, the firm grip of his hand, it all spoke volumes of the emotions churning inside him. As we walked to his car, I felt a flood of relief mixed with confusion. His actions had shown that he cared, that he was willing to protect me, yet the earlier confrontation left so many questions unanswered.

Sitting in the passenger seat of his car, I looked over at him, his expression a mix of concern and frustration. It was clear that we needed to talk, to clear the air and understand where we stood. But for now, I was just grateful to be away from the club, from the unwanted attention, and most importantly, to be with Marco.

The Phoenix skyline stretched out before us, its lights twinkling against the backdrop of the night sky. The cool air was a sharp contrast to the tension emanating from Marco. He stepped out of the car wordlessly, lighting a cigarette, his movements betraying his inner turmoil.

I followed, sitting on the hood of his classic midnight blue Mustang. The silence between us felt heavy, laden with unspoken words and emotions. "Did I do something wrong?" I finally asked, breaking the quiet.

"You and I will never work," Marco said bluntly, his words cutting through me like a knife.

Before I could muster a response, he walked over and continued, "We come from two different worlds, Bella. We both have destinies to fulfill, leading our houses. That can't happen if we're together." It was a reality I had often considered, but hearing it voiced so starkly was jarring.

In a moment of vulnerability, I countered, "What if I don't want it? What if I give it all up for you?"

His laughter was short, almost incredulous. "You'd give up all the power to follow me?" he asked, his gaze piercing as he searched my eyes for sincerity.

"I have no choice," I admitted. "You're in my thoughts constantly, my dreams. If I lose you without seeing this through, I'll regret it forever."

He pondered my words, a mix of wonder and skepticism in his eyes. "And what if I disappoint you, or you realize it's a mistake?"

"I won't," I asserted, my resolve clear. "Even if it turns out to be a mistake, I'm okay with my choice."

He joined me on the hood, sitting close enough for me to rest my head on his shoulder. In that moment, with the city lights painting a beautiful canvas below us, the differences in our worlds seemed insignificant. We sat in silence, each lost in our thoughts yet comforted by the other's presence. The uncertainty of our future loomed over us, but for now, the simple act of watching the city together felt like an affirmation of the connection we shared. It was a moment of peace and possibility amidst the chaos of our lives.