23: Mario (3)

Mario arrived at his office with a knot in his stomach.
He had been impulsive buying that little flat in La Cabrera — yes. But that was before he knew Marta would become his stepmother.
She had given him a different lens through which to see the world from a new angle. Thanks to Marta, he had found the courage to express himself without a filter — and yet the fact that it was her, specifically, was the greatest filter of all when it came to showing what he felt.
He sat down at his desk, alone. He could hear inconclusive murmuring on the other side of the door — Liliana's voice, and Julián's. He thought the fragile, delicate girl who had been his old schoolmate would make a very good match with his artless, spontaneous stepbrother.
His mind went back to the day before, when in that very office Liliana had revealed that the woman he had fallen blindly in love with was about to become his stepmother. His instinct to protect her from any harm had overridden his filial love, and he had been prepared to kiss her in front of everyone if that was what it took to prevent the wretched clause he himself had drafted out of pure filial love from ever taking effect.
Before, Mario had only wanted the family business to thrive — to find a good woman to build a family with and carry on the legacy.
Now the company would be shared, he had fallen blindly in love at first sight, and the legacy meant nothing to him if it came without her.
Her. Marta. The woman who had made him question every value he had previously taken for granted.
He lifted his head from between his arms because a message from her had come through. He read it.
"I hope the business with the little flat in a mountain village has an explanation — because I've been feeling rather stalked, and it's not a pleasant feeling."
Mario knew it was going to land badly, that she would reproach him for it. Without overthinking it, he pressed the dictation button to let the words form as he spoke.
"To feel again that freedom you awakened in me — I went back on the pretext of finding new clients and returning what the neighbour had lent us. While I was talking to her, I saw a flat for sale, and found the perfect excuse to try to be myself."
Mario checked the punctuation and sent the message.
"I hope she forgives me." He managed to say before burying his head in his arms again.
A light knock at the door made him sit up.
"Boss?" It was Liliana.
"Yes."
"Can I ask you something personal?"
That caught him off guard, and his look of surprise had not yet faded when Liliana came in.
"Close the door if you don't want your colleagues to hear." He gestured for her to sit.
The secretary did as suggested, and once seated, she didn't take long to be direct.
"You know I've always thought of you as an older brother, Mario — and I'd like your opinion on Julián."
A smile broke through the surprise on Mario's face.
"He's spontaneous, and I think he's smarter than he gives himself credit for." He shrugged.
"Can I see him — do you think he'd be good for me?" Liliana preferred to ask outright.
"He doesn't seem like a bad person, if that's what you're asking."
"Yes — thank you!" She turned to leave, and had reached the door. "I don't know much, given my age — correct me if I'm wrong — but after the way you reacted yesterday, if you ever want to talk about what you feel for Mrs Marta, I can listen without judging. All right?"
Mario had given himself away. Liliana had sensed it, and he had no way of knowing who else might have.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." He tried to sound ironic and mildly offended.
"Yesterday, when I told you the owner of GOZZE was Marta Solís Villanueva, you nearly bolted out the door as though someone were about to tear your insides out." Liliana looked at him with understanding, hand on the door handle. "You're in love with her and I understand it — she seems intelligent, and she's beautiful and attractive for fifty. But she's married to your father now, and seeing her will only hurt you."
"It's strictly business, Liliana — but thank you for caring."
Liliana nodded and left.
Behind the door his secretary and friend had closed, Mario could hear Julián's voice in a muffled exchange. He couldn't make out whether he was the subject of the conversation, because a message from Marta came through on his phone.
"Being yourself, this close to the place where I was honest with you and admitted it's where I can just be Marta — that doesn't stop you seeming like a stalker."
Mario's chest tightened reading it. He had done wrong, and could only excuse himself vaguely.
He decided to call her.
"The flat is in La Cabrera, isn't it." He heard the hurt in her voice.
"In a place where I was so happy that, knowing I would never see you again and knowing you hadn't told anyone, I decided to at least have that secret in common with you."
A long silence answered the nakedness of Mario's soul.
He could hear an indistinct Felisa in the background. And worst of all — Melisa bursting in like a hurricane.
"That girl doesn't exist — he made her up to make me jealous!" Melisa shrieked like someone who had lost all reason.
"Melisa, he has pushed you away — he's not interested in you." Felisa shouted back.
Mario didn't know whether to speak or stay silent — mainly because he didn't know if Marta was still listening.
"Are you talking about me?" he whispered into the phone.
"Melisa, do you trust me?" Marta's voice came out authoritative — and he found that surprisingly attractive. "Because on Saturday I happened to run into a girl at the spa, and I saw Mario pick her up."
"What are you talking about — I don't follow." Mario was whispering into the phone in alarm, unable to hang up.
"Stop humiliating yourself chasing someone who slipped through your fingers. Mario prefers that other girl — blimey!"
Marta ended the call. And Mario, heart racing, could only repeat the exclamation to himself — with no one else to hear it.