18: Marta (1)

Felisa narrowed her eyes.
"Did you know about it?" she asked her friend in barely a whisper.
"Why would I have known?" Marta felt deceived, and was staring at the door in anger — Mario on the other side of it. "I trusted Manuel because he didn't seem to have a bad bone in him."
"And he doesn't — my father is innocent!"
"I'm going to lose my company, Mario — the one that has cost me my life. Do you hear me? My LIFE!"
"The clause was aimed at whoever my father married." He sounded genuinely remorseful. "A man who had finally found the courage to fall in love again after my mother's death—" he must have struck the door handle "—and who realised for himself that she had spent the night with another man."
"That man was you, Mario. It was you." Marta was furious.
"That's exactly why I wanted to stop the wedding — don't you see?" A low, pained sound came through the door. "I wish to God it had been me signing instead of my father!"
Felisa straightened up, visibly taken aback, but Marta was still in full flood of anger.
"And what would you say to the one who has you so completely gone?" The feelings inside Marta were tangling chaotically, and jealousy surfaced at the worst possible moment.
A beat later, Mario's voice had shifted entirely.
"That we'll always have El Corcho."
The tangle of feelings inside Marta smoothed out with a single memory — a little house in a small mountain village, where she had allowed herself to love without limits, as a woman with no ties.
"Were you talking about me?"
"I was referring to the wonderful woman I spent the weekend with."
Marta noticed he had answered differently, and Felisa, seeing her friend's furrowed brow, opened the bathroom door.
Behind Mario stood Melisa, hands on hips, looking worried.
"Mum, what's going on?"
"Sorry, Melisa — I needed to wash my face." She lied.
"Weren't you going to the bathroom?" Melisa looked at Mario with concern. "Were you checking on my mum? That's such a sweet thing to do."
Marta straightened herself up as best she could and made to return to the table, passing between them, separating them. Felisa followed.
"Are you all right, is something wrong? Shall we go back to the table?" She heard Melisa asking Mario directly, as Marta walked away towards the table.
"Marta, wait!" Felisa caught up with her. "You need to get a grip or you'll lose the company!"
"Get a grip?"
"Melisa almost caught you saying something she shouldn't hear!" Felisa took her friend's hands and tried to calm her. "You are married to Manuel, and she has been out with Mario." She stroked her face with compassion. "The clause has turned everything on its head — you can't let a weekend fling be the reason you throw your whole life away."
Marta rested her forehead on Felisa's shoulder, exhaled, and stood up straight.
"You're right. They were three days in which I stopped being Marta Solís Villanueva and was allowed to just be Marta. At least that's something, isn't it?"
"You could try to fall in love with Manuel — it might help you forget Mario." Felisa shrugged.
"If they weren't father and son, it would be easier." Her gaze drifted back towards the bathrooms for a moment.
"Live with Manuel and you'll forget Mario."
"Wait — I was jealous of myself." Something had just dawned on Marta. "El Corcho — he said that to me on Sunday."
"I didn't follow the reference, but I'd already picked up on what he meant when he said it. It was obvious he was talking about you."
"I can't see Manuel in any other light — it's inconceivable to me, mentally speaking."
"Well, you've signed a contract that says otherwise, Marta." Felisa drew herself up with a pointed look and glanced behind them.
Melisa was pulling at Mario's sleeve as they made their way back to the table.
As if in slow motion, Mario reached out and brushed Marta's hand as he passed — tender and deliberate. Her heart lurched, her face went soft, and she watched him being led away by his sleeve.
Someone was pulling at her arm.
"Melisa, what are you doing?"
Mario and Melisa both turned. Nothing was happening — nothing like what Marta thought she had seen.
"Yes, Mum?"
"Nothing, sweetheart — I had a moment."
Melisa went back to the table, and Mario after her — not without one last look at Marta, pleading.
"A moment, my foot!" Felisa hissed under her breath. "Those were jealousy pangs — over your own daughter, for God's sake! Let's go and sit down!"
"I know — I'm the worst." Marta felt a sharp pang of shame.
"You're a woman who has fallen in love with the wrong person at the wrong time, because you have responsibilities to honour." Felisa tried to lift her. "Falling in love isn't wrong. Falling in love out of turn is — and that's what's happened to you."
"I want to turn back time and—" Marta hesitated.
"Read the contract? That would have been a good idea, frankly."
"The contract!" Something Mario had said clicked into place. "Will Manuel know about it?"
"Worry about getting to know your husband — you can start by asking him about it."
They were the last to return to the table, and sat back in the same seats so as not to raise suspicions.
Having Mario sitting beside her would have filled her with genuine happiness — if not for the man sitting on her other side.
The meal passed with the lightness of lead boots. Between Felisa, who caught every glance between Marta and Mario, and Julián, who noticed nothing at all, neither Manuel nor Melisa managed to hold the full attention of the person sitting next to them.
When four o'clock arrived, everyone began to prepare to head home — but Manuel still had one question for Marta, held back until now.
"Now that we're married — how would you feel about moving in together? A two-hundred-square-metre house, six bedrooms, and a shared study."