The beginning
Love.
Some say it’s complicated. I say it’s simple.
As long as you know who you are in love with and who you merely desire.
With Antwan, we lived what felt like absolute love at the beginning of our relationship.
We met at a party, fell in love, and that was it. We got together when we were seventeen, and we’ve been together for five years now. Two years ago, he asked me to marry him, and of course I said yes. I’ve been his wife for about a year and a half.
I’m twenty-two, married to what was once the great love of my life.
But now?
I could say that I love him. Yes, I do love him. He has done a lot for our relationship… for me.
But something is always missing. It always will be. I miss the freedom I had before I met him.
When we got together, all of that disappeared. I stopped going out. I stopped staying out late. I cut off friendships because of Antoine. He didn’t pressure me much—but he never fully let me do whatever I wanted either. He used to say that since I had him, I didn’t need anyone else.
Then came the moment when he left for a while.
He found a job in France, in Paris, and for a few months I was without him. But what was freedom worth then, when I had no one else?
I always liked Paris. Ever since I was young, I wanted to live there. Antoine did everything he could—he found a job and went there for a few months to see what life was like. Back then, I thought that would be the end of our relationship. That he would meet someone else, or simply get tired of me.
Until one day, he asked me to come live with him.
And so, with both happiness and sadness in my heart, I left Spain and my family behind to go live with the man I loved. But now, I’m no longer sure about any of it.
I’ve started thinking about the old days. Antwan’s absence pushed me to start doing the things I used to do again—to enjoy myself, without caring about anyone or anything. I just want someone to give me the attention I deserve. The attention Antwan no longer gives me because of his work.
He works for both of us while I search for a job so I won’t depend on him. I know he loves me, but I’ve started feeling suffocated.
He suffocates me without realizing it. He’s stuck on the idea that it will always be just him and me—no one else.
He was very against the idea of me working. I don’t know… but I think the thought of me being around other people didn’t sit well with him. I managed to convince him, though. Barely—but I did.
We’re stuck in the same routine. He works almost every day. I stay home, take care of the house, and desperately look for a job. But here, foreigners aren’t exactly welcomed with open arms. I’ve been to so many interviews it could make your head spin.
I have one today—the last one for the week, since it’s Friday—and I hope they like me.
I walk fairly fast but carefully, wearing my favorite burgundy skirt, tight and knee-length.
The crisp white blouse that accentuates my full chest (which Antoine loves—but only when it’s for him).
Black heels, which I like to believe bring me luck. I carry my burgundy blazer in my hand because it’s quite warm today, and I don’t want to sweat before the interview.
From a distance, I see the enormous black glass building shining under the sun, and I shiver—because chances are, this is where I’ll be spending most of my time from now on.
I step through the large glass doors and soon notice a well-dressed, petite woman approaching me.
“You must be Esmeralda Mendes. I’m Kristina, Mr. Jason Williams’ assistant. I’ll give you a short tour of the building while he finishes his meeting with his associates. Then I’ll take you to his office for the interview.”
Smiling, she walks ahead, leaving me wondering whether her cheerful expression is simply part of her job—or if she’s genuinely happy to show me around.
“Big place…” I murmur, mostly to myself, as we step into the elevator with glass walls that allow you to see almost the entire building from the inside.
“It is,” she replies. “It’s a family business. The Williams family has run it for years. Jason’s father, Mr. Will, poured all his love into making it what it is today. And he trained his son very well—so he could one day take his place.”
She spoke with a smile, but every time she mentioned Jason’s name, a spark lit up in her eyes. Something was going on here—and I couldn’t wait to find out what.
A few minutes later, Kristina received a message on her phone and smiled. She looked at me with her large green eyes and gently took my hand.
“We’ll take you to Mr. Williams’ office now.”
A drop of sweat rolled down my forehead. I don’t know why, but anxiety washed over me the moment she headed toward the large black door at the end of the hallway.
“Good luck!” she said cheerfully.
All I could do was smile—I felt completely overwhelmed. I had never felt this anxious before an interview. I knew I shouldn’t, but I had a feeling something would go wrong.
Kristina opened the door and stepped aside, her eyes fixed on me.
“Go on,” she whispered, motioning for me to enter.
I walked in slowly and steadily. I heard the door close behind me and gave Kristina one last smile before turning forward.
He was sitting casually behind his desk, wearing a dark blue suit that—God help me—fit him perfectly. Sunlight filtered through the windows, falling onto him and making his skin glow as if he were some kind of god.
I felt his gaze burn into me as I approached the desk. His expression was serious, but his eyes were calm. He stood as soon as I got close, straightening his jacket, never breaking eye contact.
“Mr. Williams, I’m Esmeralda Mendes. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said, extending my hand.
He smiled crookedly and reached out to shake it.
“The pleasure is mine, Miss Mendes. Please, have a seat.”
I sat down, noticing how he was about to sit but waited a few seconds for me to settle first. His gaze traveled down my body, to my legs, and back up to my face, making me feel slightly uncomfortable.
“Let’s talk about the basics,” he said. “This is a family business—a big name, known in many countries beyond France. It’s very important to me that my employees take their work seriously and love it as much as I do.”
I nodded as he spoke, the importance of it all clear in his voice.
“Here, you’ll find only smiling faces. Everyone works with passion, with joy, with love. What I want to know is whether you’re willing to be part of something this big. We’ll have clients every day. We work in advertising, and we need to inspire them with our ideas. Make them understand that no one can promote their product better than we can.”
As he spoke, I couldn’t take my eyes off the skin of his chest visible through the open button of his shirt. It was warm—there was no denying that.
“Mr. Williams, I’ve worked in companies like this before—maybe not as successful—but in all of them, my employers were satisfied with my work.”
“I’m sure,” he said. “I did my research. I spoke with people you worked for, and they all had nothing but good things to say.”
I smiled and shifted in my seat. His eyes flicked briefly to my blouse, and I immediately realized I’d drawn his attention somewhere I shouldn’t have. He quickly refocused on my eyes.
His gaze was deep. Warm.
Looking at him made you feel calm—like you didn’t want to look anywhere else. He captivated you effortlessly.
“This job also involves traveling,” he continued. “I may need to send you abroad for a few days. Always with another employee, of course—or with me, if necessary. I need to know if you’re willing to travel.”
I smiled at the thought of traveling and answered without hesitation.
“No problem at all.”
He smiled back—this time fully—and I finally had the chance to truly admire it. Simply stunning.
“It’s Friday today. Get some rest, and you’ll start on Monday. I’ll send you the schedule tonight so you can prepare.”
He stood up. I reached for my bag on the chair beside me, but he picked it up first and handed it to me. I smiled and stood.
As I took it, he noticed the ring shining on my finger. He gently took my hand, sending electricity through my body, and examined it for a moment.
“Wow,” he said softly. “Your husband must love you very much.”
I lifted my gaze to meet his.
“He does.”
He took a deep breath.
“And you?” he asked quietly, anxiety in his voice. “Do you love him?”
His eyes burned into me. I didn’t answer.
Why couldn’t I?
“Anyway,” he said abruptly, letting go of my hand. He turned back toward his desk, suddenly distant.
“I’ll see you on Monday, Miss Mendes.”
He opened his laptop and acted as if I no longer existed.
I walked slowly toward the door—then stopped.
“If you really want to know,” I said, turning back, my voice shaking, “yes. I love my husband. More than anything in the world.”
He stared at me, expression unreadable.
“My husband has done everything to make me happy. Of course I love him.”
He sighed and looked down at the floor.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
I opened the door, then turned back one last time.
“It would be an honor to work for a great businessman like you,” I said firmly, “but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t involve yourself in my personal life.”
And with that, I left—angrier and more embarrassed than ever.
Embarrassed because I had just raised my voice at the man who had given me the job I wanted more than anything.
A few hours later, I was lying on the living room couch, watching television and waiting for Antwan to come home so we could eat. The food had gone cold, of course, but we would heat it up—no problem.
That’s when I heard the keys at the door.
I stood up and walked toward the hallway, where I saw him taking off his shoes.
“Welcome home,” I said, walking toward him.
He opened his arms and pulled me into a long, tight hug, squeezing me as if he hadn’t seen me in months.
“This is my favorite moment of the day,” he said, kissing the top of my head.
I laughed softly and looked at him.
“I’m guessing you’re hungry?” he added.
I shook my head no, and he made a face.
“I don’t like that. Let’s eat, and then I want to take a shower. It’s hot outside. We can sit on the balcony, open a bottle of wine, and you can tell me how the interview went. What do you say?”
I smiled and kissed him gently on the lips.
“What would I do without you?” I said, and he smiled.
We ate fairly quickly. Meanwhile, Antwan told me about his colleagues and how pleasant his day had been. He was tired, but he never complained. He never did.
When we finished, I started collecting the plates and placing them in the sink. That’s when I heard footsteps behind me and turned—only to see Antwan standing in the doorway with a towel wrapped around his waist.
“I’m going to take a shower,” he said. “Do you want to join me?”
