17: The Pen

Marta finished her signature with a sharp pain in her heart.
They were officially married.
The door handle made a dull sound as someone tried to push through.
Marta turned.
It was Mario.
He was flustered — she could see he was nervous, his face pale, his shoulders hunched, hyperventilating.
The pen slipped from Marta's hand, and she was the only one who heard it hit the floor, like a distant echo.
Everyone else turned a moment later.
"Mario, about time!" Manuel exclaimed the moment he saw him. "Though you're too late to be needed!"
"Is that your son?" Julián asked Manuel.
"Yes." He answered with a smile and extended a hand to the latecomer. "Mario, come — let me introduce you."
"Sorry — my secretary had to remind me the wedding was today." He offered a vague excuse.
"Work first, naturally!" Melisa said with a hint of reproach. "This is my brother Julián and my mother Marta."
Mario shook Julián's hand with a smile, catching his breath after the sprint from the courthouse entrance.
Marta held her composure while feeling the foundations of her heart give way.
She extended her hand — shaking it was the right thing to do.
"Marta Solís Villanueva."
But her body was debating whether to throw itself into Mario's arms or simply collapse.
He offered his hand and they shook — with force.
The others saw nothing but an energetic handshake. Marta felt Mario gently stroking the back of her hand with his thumb.
"Mario, you'll pull her arm off!" Manuel scolded him.
"I'm sorry, Marta!" Mario stopped — but his body refused to let go, and he covered her hand with his other one.
"Lovely to meet you." Marta looked into his eyes as though no one else existed.
"The pleasure is mine." He gave her a smile that was only for her, still stroking her hand beneath his.
Felisa raised her hands and turned to her friend.
"Now that we're done, shall we celebrate with lunch somewhere nice?"
Mario opened his mouth, and a flash of fear made him release Marta's hand.
"Did you already sign...?" His subconscious slipped — though he caught it in time. "Did you all sign?"
"That's what I meant when I said you weren't needed, Mario." Manuel answered matter-of-factly.
Mario swallowed and made do with having held her hand.
"And that lunch?" Felisa kept her arm around Marta's shoulders and didn't let go.
"I know a place that will take us without a reservation." Manuel offered.
Everyone thanked the judge and filed out of the room.
Julián chatted animatedly with Manuel. Melisa started talking to a distracted Mario about contacts and potential new investors. Felisa steered a distracted Marta forward by the shoulders.
Mario and Marta walked side by side, each with their mind fixed on the other.
They arrived at the restaurant of a five-star hotel and, as Manuel had said, no reservation was needed — he was known there.
Manuel sat first, and the flow of conversation pulled Julián into the seat beside him. Felisa followed, wanting to sit between her niece and nephew. Two seats remained at the table, side by side, between Melisa and Manuel.
"After you." Mario gestured towards the table.
Marta hesitated. Sit next to Melisa, or next to Manuel?
"Mum, sit next to your husband — don't be shy about it." Julián broke the tension with his unguarded innocence.
She did. Mario sat down next, between her and Melisa.
Their hearts were racing, and the effort to hide it was draining them both.
Manuel called the maître d' and ordered an assortment of flavoured breads to start.
When the waitress brought the large bread basket, she took their order and left.
Julián was the first to reach across and claim two pieces of garlic bread.
"You'll frighten the girls off with your breath after eating that." Melisa remarked to her brother.
"I don't think that's any of your concern, Melisa." Julián shot back.
"I'm sure there's some girl out there who loves garlic as much as you do, darling." Felisa consoled him drily.
"And one you can actually admit has you completely gone!" Manuel added — looking at Mario.
The colour drained from Mario's face. He swallowed. Marta turned slowly to look at him.
"Dad!" Mario protested. "This isn't the moment for that."
Marta felt a small twist in her heart, wondering if he might be referring to someone else.
Melisa laced her fingers over her plate and began to look at Mario differently. He was not as unreadable as she had first thought.
"What's wrong with saying you have a girlfriend?"
Manuel was perfectly innocent in saying it, and Mario closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath.
"If you'll excuse me—" Marta pushed back from the table, her expression clouded "—I need to use the bathroom."
Felisa, sitting across from her, raised an eyebrow at Manuel and followed her friend.
In the bathroom, Marta ran cold water over her face, hoping it would wash away the discomfort.
"Marta, are you all right?"
"No, Felisa, I am not all right!" Marta snapped.
"It's him, isn't it?"
"Who?" Marta knew Felisa read her like an open book, but she wasn't ready to admit it.
"The Mario you told me about last night and the Mario sitting at that table."
"Yes."
A light knock at the door.
"Marta — are you all right?" Mario's voice.
A tiny smile appeared on Marta's face. Felisa exhaled.
"Do you think she's all right after what happened this weekend?"
Mario was about to reply, but the question carried too much information inside it. He decided to be honest.
"I only found out my stepmother's name this morning — and I'll admit my intention was to stop the wedding."
"You don't want our companies to merge?" Marta finally said aloud.
"I didn't want it to go through with the clause I added to the contract."
"What clause are you talking about, Mario?" This time it was Felisa who asked.
"One in which infidelity grants absolute power to the wronged party and leaves the other with nothing."