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One
Mateo
Real golden flakes sink to the bottom of my glass of champagne as I lift it to my lips. I don’t understand why flashy people like my family have the need to celebrate with drinks containing floating choking hazards in them, but at least this way if it gets caught in your throat people will know you died with class.
I scoff, taking another drink of champagne that costs more than my engagement ring. People are spinning each other around on the dance floor, laughing and smiling. I feel so out of place. I don't want to be here while everyone else appears to never want to leave. The wall behind me holds the weight of my body as I slump my shoulders against it, wishing I was somewhere else. Anywhere outside this house where the air isn't so suffocating.
“There you are, Mateo. Your mother said you were around here somewhere,” my fiancé, Santiago says, his expression hard.
“And somewhere I was. It looks like you've found me,” I reply, refraining from rolling my eyes.
“I thought maybe I could steal you for a dance.” Santiago holds his hand out in front of him, his hair so heavy with gel, it gleams under the chandelier lights. Pressed lines run down the inseams of his expensive dress slacks, floating a little too high above his shiny black loafers. His lips spread into a wide grin, highlighting his defined cheekbones.
His smile always makes me feel uneasy, unsettling my stomach and causing my skin to crawl. Everything about Santiago is unwelcoming. Yet here I am, staring into the cold eyes of the man I will soon be spending the rest of my life with. His ring lays heavy on my finger, always making me feel as if I am sinking below the surface into my own personal hell. It's not a declaration of love, more like a proof of ownership.
Santiago wasn't my preferred choice for a husband, but he was my parent's first one. The only one I was given, because in this life, you do what is best for la familia. My lips stretch into a smile, making my cheeks ache from the forced action. “I don't really think I'm stable enough on my feet right this minute. Too much champagne. Raincheck?”
He flattens his tie, straightening his posture to make himself appear taller. “You know, it's rude to turn down a dance from your future husband. You don't want to be rude, do you, Mateo?”
His lips hang on to my name for too long between clenched teeth, leaving an uncomfortable shift in my stomach. I’m not sure if the bubbles rising up my throat are from the drink, or the acid taste in my mouth as I say the words he wants to hear. “You're right, I'm sorry. One dance should be fine.” After all, we'll be married soon and I'll have to do much worse than spin around the dance floor with him. My stomach churns. The longer I can get away with not having him touching me under my clothes, the better. The very thought has me wanting to peel my skin off.
Many times I've considered sneaking away to a club no one would recognize me at, and hooking up with a sexy stranger to ensure Santiago wouldn't be the first man to ever have me in that way. It was something small I had control of. As he stripped my clothes off on our wedding night, I'd smile knowing taking my virginity was one triumph he could never have because I already gave it to someone of my own choosing. Tomorrow night might be the day I allow my little idea to win me over. Tonight I'll keep smiling and pretending to be everything everyone needs me to be–happy to be celebrating a marriage I'll never want.
I am caught in the alcove of his armpit as he swings his arm around me. There’s a sting from his fingernails digging into my shoulder possessively. A man like Santiago always enjoys showing off his things, his life possessions. I know that's all I am to him. Nothing but a shiny new toy for him to play with and toss aside when he gets bored. Men like him always do. This dance is his opportunity to prove his power over me, letting me know that yes was the only answer I'll ever give him.
“You should smile more, mi amor. After all, this is the celebration of our families coming together.”
A celebration? It feels more like my wake. My body spins at the twirl of his hand, and I feel heavy on my feet. The overly warm room has my clothes sticking to my heated body. “I think I need some fresh air, it's a bit warm in here,” I say during the last few beats of the song.
His face goes blank, making it impossible to read. I'm already missing his scowl, at least then his feelings are obvious, and I know what to prepare for. He presses his stiff lips to my forehead, moving them near my ear. “Just don't go too far. Don't make me have to come find you.”
His grip loosens on my shoulder and my body relaxes at the loss of his hand. “I'll just be right outside, Santiago. I'm sure you can survive without me for a few minutes.”
The grin that sends unsettling chills down my spine is back. “Of course, but it never is just a few minutes with you. Is it, Mateo?”
He steps back and I can already breathe easier. “Well, off you go to get that fresh air you're needing so badly. I'll just keep our guests entertained myself, while you wander off somewhere. Don't be too long. Remember, these people are here for us. Apúrate.”
How could I forget when he and my parents are constantly reminding me? Along with all the people who stop me as I make my way outside. “Oh Mateo, congrats on your engagement. You and Santiago are the perfect couple.” My cousin Lena presses her hand to her chest, pretending to be the endearing person we both know she isn't. I keep walking, avoiding any further interaction with her and everyone else. None of these people are here for me. They are all here to kiss my father's ass while hoping to gain something from it. Good luck.
I've been doing everything I can to please him all my life and look where it's got me. I push my way through the glass doors, immediately wrapping my arms around my body as I step onto the back patio. The frigid air is already harsh on my cheeks, and my lungs burn from breathing in too quickly. I tighten the thin fabric of my coat around my body as if it will make a difference.
“It's a cold night. Those clothes aren't very winter appropriate. I guess wearing a jacket is beneath you? You Juventinos always have to come off as untouchable, don't you?”
The silky-smooth voice has me turning my head to a tall man looking over me, tugging at the red scarf around his neck. As he steps further into the light, his honey-gold laced brown eyes are revealed. His thick lips sit below his perfectly carved nose, complimented by his sharp jaw covered in dark scruff. He is a walking wet dream.
My body goes still when his eyes bore into mine, as if they are peering deep into my soul. My shivering hands slip into the pockets of my tailored blue suit, as I loosen my throat to speak. “Are you a guest at the party? I've never seen you before. Are you a friend of Santiago’s?”
The alluring stranger's jaw tightens at the mention of my fiancé’s name, which tells me he definitely knows him, but is no friend. “I am here for something, but it’s not the party. I wasn't exactly invited, and no, I don't know anyone by that name.”
Bullshit. I dig my fingers deeper into the fabric of my pockets, tilting my head. “You aren't a very good liar. And if you weren't invited, then why are you here?”
His eyes grow dark, pinning me in place. “I'm here for you, Mateo.”
My heart speeds up in my chest. “Me?” I glance around the open space as if there is another Mateo nearby.
“Yes, you.” His lips shift into a malicious smile and he removes his jacket, wrapping it around my stiff shoulders. Our faces are so close I can feel his warm breath against my skin, strong with cinnamon. It causes the hair on the back of my neck to stand up.
“What do you mean, you're here for me?”
