Wrong impressions [Book II]

Wrong Impressions

[Book II]

Paulin Zavala

All rights reserved, this work is protected on safecreative.org

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Thanks to my readers who supported me and gave their beautiful opinions. This has been the work I have most enjoyed writing and with which I suffered the most.

I also thank my friend Karen, your cover as always remained beautiful, I really appreciate it.

Chapter 1

One month later.

Antonio tied his tie in front of the mirror. His expression, although calm, was upset by the dark shadows that stood out under his eyes. Those last weeks had been very hard, and no doubt the time without proper sleep was taking its toll. He sighed when his tie was properly made and pressed his lips together.

He could not remember a moment in his life that he could use to compare the disaster he now carried on his shoulders. And neither could he avoid feeling completely responsible for the way the situation ended. For if it were not for his insistence that his boss meet his youngest daughter, none of that horrible moment would have happened.

He closed his eyes, he was exhausted. After returning from Allan's apartment with Ivan, the reality of the situation hit him when the day began and it was clear to him, as it was to everyone, that he had lost his job. He abandoned everything, just as he had threatened Allan. And although he honestly did not fully regret his decision, the nostalgia that seized him was a very bitter drink that he had to let go.

He turned to go to the kitchen as he had to prepare breakfast for his family. Silvia had decided to stay in the house with Ivan and Tony. And that was excellent, after all nothing made him happier than having his family with him -or most of them.

Wearing his familiar pink hollan apron, he turned on the stove and set up a large frying pan for the omelet he would prepare. Getting breakfast ready for his family had become a new tradition, and by new we mean just a week and a half ago. He had managed to get a new job, thanks to the help of his son-in-law.

He poured in the eggs, and broke up chilies, mushrooms and some cheese. He made the omelet fly in the air before catching it with skill and waited for it to be ready, poured three glasses of orange juice and put four slices of bread on toast. He turned off the stove when the omelet was ready and took the frying pan. The yellow omelet slid down to the plate that was lying on the table. Antonio left the pan on the stove and sat down.

He ate his portion as usual, drank the juice slowly and let his worries go for a few seconds. Not everything had gone wrong. He knew that the fact that his daughter and husband were still there was because they were afraid to leave him alone. Given her alcohol problem, it was understandable that they feared a repeat of the episode. And that Antonio knew perfectly well, the sadness he felt was indescribable, but he would not fall back into something that would only make things worse. He had to be strong for his two daughters, for his grandson, and for his beloved Adele.

He smiled unwittingly at the thought of that wonderful woman. Who, like Silvia, had not left him for a minute. And since she too had been out of work by joining the chain of resignations, she spent most of the day with Antonio, and taking care of Tony when his parents went out on business. Adele was amazing and loved him madly, just as he loved her. And the happiness he felt couldn't be compared, if only the overall reality wasn't so bitter.

He stopped eating when he felt a lump in his throat, stood up and took off his apron. He took the bread out of the toaster and put it on the table. He turned on the coffee maker before leaving the kitchen and went into the living room. Silvia was there, waiting for him.

Good morning, she said as she yawned. She was wearing two-piece brick-colored silk pajamas, and on top of that a long-sleeved brown robe.

What are you doing up at this hour? The sun hasn't risen yet, honey.

Silvia suppressed a grunt.

I must love you more than I love to sleep, Dad, she answered somewhat offended, "but I feel that you are not quite as well as you tell us when you come to eat, and Ivan thinks the same.

Antonio frowned.

I'm sorry, he said, but I'm not the only one who acts like everything is fine.

Silvia crossed her arms.

I'm not as strong as you, she said, and even if I'm dying to go see Emma I can't do it, as you well know.

Antonio did not respond.

You have no idea how hard it is when Tony asks about her, she sighed. He even cries at night, because he says he has nightmares and thinks his Aunt Emma won't be back.

Antonio suppressed the tears.

Where would she go, Dad? I can't think of any place she could use as a shelter except her apartment. And she's not there, not even the doorman knows where she went.

I know, Antonio took a deep breath. Her car was near the airport... she could have gone anywhere in the world.

Silvia carved her temple, frustrated. And it was more than understandable. They had been looking for Emma since the morning they woke up and didn't see her sleeping next to Tony. But when they went to her building they didn't see her car, and the guy at the front desk told them he didn't see her come back at any time this morning. Her car was found two days later as it was towed by a crane for parking in an area of cabs going to the airport. The only clue they had was that Emma took a flight somewhere in the world to get away and solve her problems on her own, as she had always done.

I'm sorry, Dad, she sighed. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, I know it's not the same working with Ivan's father, but you're in the area you like.

The accounting team is very well prepared, and almost all of them are of my generation, we understand each other better than I expected.

Silvia nodded as she approached to give him a hug.

I'm so sorry, Antonio whispered, "it's all my fault.

There's no way you could have known something like this would happen, so please stop blaming yourself.

Antonio hugged her tightly and said nothing. Silvia left him after a few seconds and carved out his eyes, not wanting to cry.

Well, I'll go to work, he announced, trying to smile. Breakfast is ready for the three of you, but go get some more sleep.

I will, she said, I'll see you at lunchtime.

Without fail I will be here, he said.

If you don't come, Adele will be angry, she recalled, smiling.

Antonio laughed as he remembered that detail and said goodbye with his hand as he walked to the door, giving Silvia a glance as she walked up the stairs before left his home.

*

Making that decision was the most difficult of her life. Especially because, that time, she didn't want to be alone with her pain, she wanted her father to hold her, to tell her that things would be okay. But by leaving and not telling anyone where she would be, she had sunk on her own.

The first week was hell. She had locked herself in her apartment, cut off from anyone. The lights and any electronic devices were off. The silence around her was deafening, and yet she could hear her broken heart beating. She was not well at all, she had never felt so humiliated, hurt. Her chest burned with the still fresh, throbbing, exposed wound that refused to heal.

She was not sure how long she had been crying, her eyes were burning, already dry and tired. Her head was throbbing, screaming for some rest. She hadn't slept, nor had she eaten properly. Her room had become her coffin.

Lying on the edge of her bed, she hugged the pillow tightly and closed her eyes. Her stomach twisted, demanding food. Emma sighed, covered her body with the blanket and opened her eyes.

What time would it be? She couldn't tell because the windows were covered, not a single ray of light was coming through those thick curtains. She wanted to stop feeling pain, to wake up for a moment and forget the nightmare she had lived so she could continue with her life. She had a goal that she could achieve if only her life and hopes were returned to her.

The second week she had stopped crying, she no longer felt anything, neither hungry nor sleepy, she spent her days sitting on the bed and looking into the void. On the third day of that week she ate something solid for the first time. She had not resorted to alcohol -more so because there was nothing in her apartment- but depression hit her hard, almost to the point of suffocation.

The third week was better. Emma had begun to think clearly. The windows were open and the light was shining on her. She had lost weight by eating almost nothing, the huge dark circles under her eyes made her look very emaciated, and her skin had lost its glow. After eating -at about five o'clock in the afternoon- she took a bath for the first time in days. She immersed her body in the hot water and stayed in the tub for more than half an hour.

With her eyes closed and her mind removed from any thoughts that might harm her, she was able to relax. It only took another moment for her to realize how pathetic she was being. She was not a damsel in distress, she did not stay in the tower waiting for the prince to come to her rescue, she faced the problem on her own, without help from anyone.

She got out of the tub, she hadn't felt so determined in a long time. She changed immediately, dried her hair and when she came out of the bathroom she took a suitcase out of the closet, filled it with several changes of clothes, shoes and a bottle of sunscreen. She needed to feel like herself again, and staying in her apartment was not the best place.

She combed her hair and pulled it up into a high ponytail, wearing her old black converse. She put on a pair of light blue jeans and a black T-shirt from her favorite rock band, slipped a leather jacket over her shoulders and took the suitcase. She walked to the door of her apartment and took a look at the rose arrangement, which was now rotten and dark. The yellow she now loved so much made her nauseous. She walked out of there and into the elevator, she wasn't smiling, nor did it show any expression. Only one thought haunted her head, and that was that she had to leave the country.

The plane landed at nine o'clock at night on the island. Her villa was waiting for her and she wanted to get there early. She forced herself to smile at the driver who was waiting for her at the exit when she picked up her suitcase. It was the same man as the last time. She got into the white car while the driver put the suitcase in the trunk.

I'm glad to see you again so soon, said the man as he got into the car.

Emma nodded, settled down in her seat, and buckled her seat belt. The man started the car and drove it through the streets.

Will you be staying longer this time? asked the man as he smiled.

Emma looked at him in the mirror.

Just a couple of days, she replied quietly.

The driver nodded and did not speak again. Emma concentrated on looking out the window. She was fine, she would be sooner or later. She needed to get away from everyone, and the beach was the best option.

She closed her eyes as she remembered Allan, the panic that flooded her at the prospect of him being there immediately abandoned her. For when she called to announce her next arrival, she was informed that he was not on the island.

When the car turned around in the gazebo. Emma was calmer, she deserved that vacation, she deserved to be happy even if it was only for a short moment. And with that mentality the car left, straight to the reception where the brunette receptionist was looking at her with her mouth open.

Miss Maldonado, she said in a sharper tone than she wanted to, it's good to see you again, and so soon.

Emma smiled.

Same here, she replied, Good evening.

Go ahead, she waved to the driver. "Please take the luggage to her villa.

I'd like to check in, she said. I'm a little tired, it was a long flight.

Of course, she said, Sign here.

She extended the list with letterhead names and she signed immediately. She looked at her one last time before turning around.

Miss Maldonado? she called her.

Emma looked at her sideways.

You won't have to walk to your villa, she said.

Thank you, she replied without looking at her.

The woman moved quickly to her side and pointed to the golf carts.

You can choose the one you like, it will be yours to drive on the beach, she smiled nervously, waiting for an answer.

Thank you very much, said Emma, walking to the cars and getting into one.

The good thing was that she knew how to handle them. She looked at the brunette who was smiling despite the obvious discomfort she was experiencing, and started the car. She drove down the lighted road to the village. She felt a burning in her chest when she stopped, for she knew that Allan's villa was next to hers, and seeing the lights off confirmed that he was not there, and that hurt her.

She got out of the car and sighed. Her scowl began to give her a headache, she didn't know how long she had had that expression, but she could now understand the reason for the receptionist's nervousness. She climbed the steps to the door of her villa. She couldn't even see it the last time she was there. She left so quickly that everything seemed like a bad dream.

But there she was, opening the door to her own villa on a beautiful tropical island. The door was unlocked, so she walked in. Her suitcase was waiting on a chair in front of her, next to it, on a little bamboo table, was a small welcome basket. She smiled, she had fruits from the region, a small box with the key to the villa, coconut sweets and chocolates, a bottle of champagne, perfumes with delicious aromas, and a small arrangement of wild yellow flowers.

She pressed her lips and walked to the basket, picked up the flowers and turned around, took the arrangement out the door, threw it as far as she could and returned to the room.

The next day, she was awakened by a genuine desire to eat. She smiled because she was really hungry. She got out of bed and walked to the bathroom, took a quick bath - without washing her hair - and on her way out wrapped in a towel and opened her suitcase. She sighed when she realized she had no summer clothes, the closest thing she had was a white dress with straps at the knee and a beige flat sandal.

She dressed herself promising to buy clothes suitable for those days she would be there. She cleaned her face and put sunscreen on her arms and legs. She took her sunglasses, her key and left the villa to her golf cart.

She stopped when her nose caught a delicious aroma, stopped the car and parked. She got out and walked through the small market. Everything was so clean, bright, as if nothing was wrong with that piece of paradise. She sighed again, but this time she felt better. She stopped when she located the origin of that aroma that made her stomach tremble and sat down at one of the tables.

When she finished eating, she spent the rest of the day shopping for various dresses, skirts, beach shoes and a pair of swimsuits. She also bought ice cream of different flavors, chocolates, a couple of bottles of red wine and one of amaretto.

Back in her villa, she said she had to keep on getting to know the place, she unveiled one of her new dresses - an olive green one with golden flowers on the chest, no straps, and golden sandals - and went out to tour.

She ended up in a beauty parlor. She wanted to overcome her trauma, be herself again, and remembering what Silvia said, getting a haircut was the best option. She asked the manager to decide on her own, explaining that she wanted a change of look. The woman smiled understandingly and surrounded her neck with the black covering. She left the room feeling her strength return. Her hair was a few short fingers, and her fringe had been removed. She smiled satisfied with the result and walked around the stores getting to know and taste the different dishes. The carnival was beginning, and there was much to see.

That night, as she arrived from her tour. She took a shower, after which she went out covered in a gown and poured herself a glass of red wine. She took a box of chocolates and returned to her room. She sat up on the bed and then looked at the phone. She called the number and scheduled a dive excursion for the next morning, and for the afternoon she would take surfing lessons. And as an extra, she made an appointment at the spa for the day after that.

When the fourth week began, Emma was leaving the villa, her vacation was over and she felt like herself again. That Monday she got into her golf cart with her suitcase in hand. She drove straight to the reception and said goodbye to the brunette who no longer saw her with nervousness and discomfort.

Have a pleasant trip, said the woman.

Emma smiled, holding out her hand.

Thank you for the wonderful moment, she replied happily, "I assure you that I will be back soon.

The woman was surprised but shook Emma's hand. She got into the white car and smiled at the driver. She took a look at the village before the car drove off and sighed.

Did you enjoy your stay? The driver's friendly voice made her nod.

So much so that I don't want to leave, she confessed.

And why do you do it?

Duty calls, she said, pursing her lips, "I can no longer turn my back on it.

You are a very responsible woman, said the happy man. "Don't feel bad about that, this place will wait for you as long as it takes to come back, I assure you.

Emma nodded gratefully and said nothing. The car arrived at the airport at eight o'clock that Monday morning and she said goodbye to the driver. The man kissed her hand with chivalry and waited for her to enter the boarding area.

Having documented her suitcase, she sat down in the waiting room. She had thought seriously about something important, but she wasn't sure she could get it. Still, she took out her cell phone - which had been left in her suitcase for many days - and looked for someone's number. She was surprised that he answered, but after her sudden goodbye she didn't think he wanted to talk to her. She took a deep breath and began to talk.

When the plane arrived in her city. The cold received her without mercy, she closed her jacket and rolled up her scarf before taking the cab. She was shivering from the low temperature but was happy to be back. She loved her city and the cold.

Where do I take you, miss?

To Des&Tes Corporation please, she said with a smile.

The cab driver nodded and rushed to the building. She sighed when she saw the building, looked at the time on her watch and was relieved to be on time. It was two o'clock in the afternoon, and the head of HR was waiting for her.

She got out of the cab with her suitcase in hand, walked to the entrance and smiled at the guard who opened the door. Rogelio was standing at the reception desk, waiting for her.

You have no idea how special I'm treating you, he said with a smile.

She smiled and shook his hand with the redhead's.

Thank you for answering my call, she said happily.

Did you just get off the plane? -e asked, pointing to the suitcase.

Emma nodded.

You could have met me tomorrow, he carved his forehead.

This was something that couldn't wait until tomorrow, she said.

Sure, sure, he said. "Let's go to my office.

Emma followed Rogelio, he picked up the suitcase and carried it for her, and they got on the elevator in silence. Emma felt like new, prepared, determined and full of desire to work again. When the doors opened Emma went out first, Rogelio pointed to his office and they both went in.

Well, tell me what happened, Rogelio asked.

Emma sat down in front of his desk and took a deep breath.

I quit, she confessed, "About a month ago.

But why? he asked in confusion. Did the company finally succumb to bankruptcy?

No... she pursed her lips. "In fact it's the opposite, you could say I saved it.

What? he looked at her in surprise. "And that's