Antes de que sea demasiado tarde

Chapter One

As night fell, the cold moon hung high in the sky. The bright moonlight fell on the ancient castle on the edge of the city, casting a mysterious silver veil around it. Emily stood on the balcony, looking at the forest in the distance, and felt a chill rising from the bottom of her heart. Since moving to this castle, her life has become bizarre and mysterious.
The cold wind in October swept across her bare shoulders, bringing a shudder. Emily subconsciously wrapped her woolen shawl tightly around her, but she couldn't feel any warmth. This castle seems to be always cold, just like its mysterious owner Lucas Black, exuding an inaccessible atmosphere.
"Miss Emily," suddenly, a low voice sounded behind her, "You'll catch a cold if you're still outside so late."
She turned around and saw Lucas standing at the balcony door. The moonlight outlined his tall figure. He was wearing a dark silk shirt, and the collar vaguely revealed his strong chest. The amber eyes flickered strangely in the darkness, as if they could see through her soul.
"Mr. Black," Emily whispered, trying to hide the trembling in her voice, "I'm just admiring the moonlight."
Lucas took a step forward, but suddenly stopped. Emily noticed that his body stiffened instantly, and his nostrils fluttered slightly, as if he was sniffing something. His expression became solemn, and a glimmer of wildness flashed in his eyes, but was quickly suppressed.
"Please go in," his voice was hoarser than usual, "It's not safe here."
Just then, a cold night breeze swept across the balcony, bringing a faint smell of rust. Emily saw that Lucas's fingers were almost pinched into the stone railing, and his knuckles were white. She couldn't help but take a step back, her heartbeat accelerated.
"I thought this castle was the safest place," she whispered, "after all, you are here."
Lucas let out an almost inaudible growl, "Some danger, Miss Emily, is much closer than you think." His eyes looked unusually sharp in the moonlight, "especially on a full moon night."
Suddenly, a wolf howl came from the distant forest, shrill and long. Emily was surprised to find that Lucas' pupils shrank in an instant and turned into vertical pupils like a beast, but the fleeting change made her wonder if it was just an illusion caused by the moonlight.
Just then, a cold breath passed by her from behind, accompanied by a chuckle. Emily turned around and saw only a dark shadow flashing in the corner of the balcony. When she looked back again, Lucas had come to her side, with a hand gently on her shoulder.
"I'll take you back to your room," he said, with an unquestionable commanding tone in his voice. Emily noticed that his palms were surprisingly hot, in sharp contrast to the chill of the castle.
Walking in the dark corridor of the castle, Emily could feel Lucas' presence, he walked behind her like a silent guardian. Moonlight poured in through the Gothic stained glass windows, casting mottled shadows on the floor.
"Good night, Miss Emily," Lucas whispered in front of her door, "Remember, no matter what sound you hear, don't leave the room tonight."
"Why?" Emily asked subconsciously.
Lucas was silent for a moment, his eyes looked deep and dangerous in the moonlight, "Because the moonlight tonight is too beautiful, it will always wake up something that shouldn't wake up."
When the door closed behind her, Emily leaned against the door, her heartbeat still alarmingly fast. She could hear Lucas's footsteps gradually fading away, but she seemed to hear the sound of wings flapping outside the window. She walked to the window and looked out through the glass.
In the moonlit courtyard, she saw a figure standing by the fountain. The man looked up at her window, and the moonlight illuminated his pale marble face - it was Draco, with a mysterious smile on his lips and a dangerous light in his eyes. When Emily blinked, his figure had disappeared, as if he had never appeared. Emily lay trembling on the bed, listening to the wolf howling outside the window. She knew that she had fallen into a world full of dangers, and this was just the beginning. On this moonlit night, her fate was closely linked to two mysterious and dangerous beings, and there was no turning back.

Chapter Two

In the dead of night, Emily lay in bed, the faces of Lucas and Draco appeared in her mind. She could not resist the deep attraction, but she also knew that she was caught in a dangerous vortex. She knew that the confrontation between the two men was a life-and-death hostility, and she was just a pawn in their war. A corner of her heart reminded her to escape, but the deeper desire pulled her to stay in this mysterious castle, looking forward to the unknown encounter.

        Just as she was about to fall asleep, a slight knock on the window interrupted the silence. Emily opened her eyes, and the moonlight poured into the room through the curtains, making the corners of the room particularly dark. She sat up subconsciously, trembling slightly and walked to the window. When she opened the curtains, a figure was standing in front of her, cold and elegant.

        It was Draco.

        "Sorry, I scared you, Emily." His low voice was frivolous and indifferent, as if every word revealed his unfathomable darkness. His eyes were like two flames in the abyss, locking onto her with an irresistible force.

        "How... are you here?" Emily's heartbeat quickened, and her hands unconsciously clenched a corner of the curtain. She knew she should be scared at this moment, but Draco's unique charm made it hard for her to resist.

        Draco did not answer her question, but slowly approached, lowered his head and whispered in her ear: "You know why I'm here, Emily. You've never really been afraid of me, right?"

        The moment he approached, she smelled the cold breath on him, as if it came from the night a thousand years ago. Her breathing gradually became rapid, but she did not retreat, but was locked by his eyes, as if her soul was also attracted to him.

        "Draco... we can't do this." Her voice was weak, but she did not retreat at all, as if even she herself was struggling with contradictions.

        "You don't belong here at all, Emily. Staying here will only put you in deeper danger." Draco gently lifted her chin, with a smile on the corner of his cold mouth, that smile was both gentle and dangerous, "But if you want to know the real darkness, then come. I will take you to see everything."

        At this moment, the door was pushed open, and Lucas' figure appeared at the door like a shadow. His face was gloomy, and his eyes were burning with anger. It was his possessiveness and anger that he could not hide. He walked towards Draco step by step, his hands clenched, his muscles tensed, as if he was going to pounce on and tear the enemy in front of him in the next second.

        "Draco, let her go." Lucas' voice was low and threatening, like an enraged beast. It was the first time Emily saw him so out of control, his eyes were like a ball of unextinguishable fire, revealing uncontrollable anger and possessiveness.

        Draco smiled slightly, released Emily's chin, and looked at Lucas provocatively. "Don't you understand yet? She doesn't belong to you. The savagery of the wolf tribe is nothing but a bondage to her, and I can give her true freedom."

        "The 'freedom' you mentioned will only make her fall into darkness. You don't understand what true protection is." Lucas sneered, his eyes as sharp as an eagle. He slowly stepped forward, blocked Emily, and protected her behind him. That was his attitude as the wolf king, firm and unshakable.

        Emily was sandwiched between the two, feeling her heartbeat speed up, as if breathing became difficult. These two completely different forces intertwined and collided in front of her, making it impossible for her to decide which side to choose.

        Draco raised the corners of his mouth and slowly took a step back, his eyes still on Emily. "Emily, one day you will find that he can't satisfy the desire in your heart. And I am your true home."

        As soon as the voice fell, Draco's figure disappeared into the night, as if he had never appeared.

        Lucas looked at the empty room, his fists gradually loosened, but the anger and worry in his eyes remained. He turned around and looked at Emily softly, but his eyes still flashed with contradictions and forbearance.

        "Are you okay?" He asked in a low voice, with a trace of undisguised concern in his voice.

        Emily nodded, but her heart was in turmoil and it was difficult to calm down. She knew that she had fallen too deep. She could not let go of these two men easily, nor could she easily resist them. A complex emotion surged in her heart, which was a dangerous and fatal attraction.

        "Lucas, I..." She wanted to say something, but lost her words when she met his eyes.

        "Don't get close to him." Lucas' voice was low, with a hint of pleading and warning, "I know you feel confused, but Draco is not what you think. He will only drag you into the darkness, and I won't let him hurt you."

        Emily just looked at him silently, and a touch of uncertainty gradually rose in her heart. She knew that this was not just a war, but a contest of feelings and desires. In this dangerous triangle relationship, she has gone too far and can never turn back.

Chapter Three

Emily stayed awake all night. The wind outside the window blew through the woods, making a low moan, as if the whole castle was whispering in her ear. She curled up in bed, recalling Draco's cold smile and Lucas's deep eyes. Two completely different attractions stirred in her heart, making her lost on the edge of danger and desire.

        When the sky was slightly bright, she made a decision. She had to figure out what she wanted, the wildness and protection of the wolf tribe, or the mystery and temptation of the vampire. She got up and walked out of the room, walked through the deserted corridor, and came to the door of Lucas's study.

        The door of the study was slightly open, and a whisper came from inside. Emily stood outside the door and pricked up her ears to listen.

        "She is innocent, Lucas." A low and gentle female voice came from Lucas's sister, Leila. Emily had heard rumors about her. Leila was the wisest prophet in the wolf tribe and could always see fragments of the future.

        "I know, Leila." Lucas' voice was hoarse, as if he had struggled all night, "but I can't control myself, I can't suppress my desire for her. I'm afraid that if she stays with me, she will only be swallowed by my darkness."

        Emily's heart trembled, and she raised her hand to push open the door.

        "Lucas." Her voice was abrupt and firm in the silent room.

        The two turned around and saw her standing at the door with a hint of determination in her eyes. She walked slowly towards Lucas, looked up at him, with a hint of determination and inquiry in her eyes.

        "I know you protect me, but I'm not a fragile child." Her voice was calm and firm, "I need to know the truth. Why are you always so hesitant? And why is Draco so persistent in approaching me?"

        Lucas' expression froze for a moment, his eyes wandering on her face, as if he was weighing whether to tell her everything. Finally, he took a deep breath, as if he had made up his mind.

        "Emily, the fate of our werewolves is usually determined at birth. The wolf tribe has a unique ability to perceive its partner. When we find that person, we will feel an attraction that cannot be ignored... and you are my destined partner." Lucas spoke in a low voice, with pain and desire flashing in his eyes.

        Emily's heartbeat accelerated, and thousands of emotions surged in her mind, both shocked and confused. She never thought that she would become his destined partner, and his possessiveness and protectiveness of her turned out to come from this ancient bond.

        She asked softly: "What about Draco? Why is he so obsessed with me?"

        Lucas's eyes became more gloomy, and there was a hint of anger in his eyes. "Draco's tribe never believed in fate. They prefer to dominate their own future. And he believes that as long as he possesses you, he can destroy me and the traditional beliefs of the wolf tribe. So, he is not sincere to you, but to weaken my power."

        Emily's heart suddenly tightened, and a hint of anger and loss surged in her eyes. However, she also felt a little unwilling, as if she was just a tool in this struggle, being fought over and torn by the two, and she had no right to control herself.

        "So, Lucas, are you sincere? Is it just fate for me?" There was a hint of disappointment in her voice, and her eyes became cold.

        Lucas was stunned, as if he was hurt by her question. He was silent for a moment before speaking: "Emily, I can't deny the existence of fate, but I can't ignore my feelings for you." He gently held her hand, his eyes full of affection and desire, "Whether it is fate or something else, I am willing to give up everything for you."

        Just then, a slight sound came from outside the window. Emily turned back suddenly and saw a pair of dark red eyes flashing outside the window, like a flame in the dark, and the familiar cold breath startled her heart.

        It was Draco.

        He stood outside the window, sneering at them, as if everything was under his control. He knocked on the window lightly, his voice cold and full of provocation: "I don't think it's possible to talk about 'betraying' everything here, Lucas. You can't protect her because she will eventually come to me."

        Lucas' eyes immediately became cold and dangerous. He stood in front of Emily, glared at Draco outside the window, and growled in a low voice: "Stay away from her, Draco. You can't force her to choose darkness."

        Draco smiled slightly, his eyes full of evil confidence. He raised his eyebrows at Emily, as if everything was under his control. "Dear Emily, you will find that the bright world cannot satisfy your desire. And darkness - is your destination." After he finished speaking, his figure instantly disappeared into the night.

        The room returned to silence, but the air was filled with tension and uneasiness. Emily looked at the empty darkness outside the window, feeling both fear and desire in her heart. She could no longer deny Draco's attraction to her, and the danger and mystery made her heart beat faster.

        Lucas noticed her hesitation, and a trace of pain and uneasiness flashed in his eyes. He gently held her hand and whispered, "Emily, don't get close to him. His darkness will devour you and make you lost in the endless night."

        She didn't respond, but just looked at him silently, her heart full of complicated emotions. She knew that she could no longer simply withdraw from the two of them. Her fate had been drawn into an uncontrollable vortex, and the only thing she could do was to follow her heart and touch the unknown darkness.

Chapter Four

As autumn deepened, the forest surrounding the castle donned a cloak of gold and crimson. Yet Emily felt none of the season's warmth. Since that night's revelation, her mind had been in constant turmoil, with Lucas's truth and Draco's temptation intertwining like two serpents in her thoughts, leaving her breathless.

        That evening, Emily found herself alone in the castle's library, searching through ancient tomes for any mention of werewolves and vampires. As she focused on a yellowed manuscript, the air suddenly turned cold. Looking up, she found Draco standing across from her, his appearance as silent as shadow.

        "Seeking truth, my dear Emily?" Draco leaned elegantly against the bookshelf, wearing a deep purple silk shirt that made his skin appear even paler. "But you know, written accounts are often one-sided."

        Emily instinctively stepped back. "Why do you always appear like this? It's unsettling."

        Draco chuckled softly, moving toward her with fluid grace. "Because I enjoy seeing you startled. It makes you even more enticing." His fingers traced her cheek, the cold touch making her shiver. "Lucas told you I'm merely using you, but did he mention that his fate is actually a chain binding him?"

        Emily froze. "What do you mean?"

        "The werewolves' so-called destined mates are nothing but constraints in their bloodline," Draco's voice carried a hypnotic power. "They're forced to love someone, forced to protect them. Isn't that tragic? While I..." his gaze deepened, "I choose you because I'm truly drawn to you."

        A low growl suddenly echoed from the doorway. Lucas stood there, his eyes now golden, filled with rage. "Step away from her, Draco!" His voice carried an unmistakable threat.

        Instead of retreating, Draco pulled Emily closer. "Why so angry, Lucas? Is it because I spoke the truth, or because you fear she might choose me?"

        The tension in the air grew thick enough to cut. Emily could feel the energy between the two men threatening to tear the room apart. Lucas's body trembled as he fought to control the beast within.

        "Enough!" Emily suddenly shouted, "What am I to both of you? Some trophy to be won?" Her voice carried both anger and hurt.

        Both men froze. Pain flashed across Lucas's eyes, while Draco's expression turned contemplative.

        Emily pushed away from Draco and walked toward the door, but paused beside Lucas. "You say I'm your destiny, but have you considered my feelings?" Her voice was soft but accusatory. "And you, Draco, if you truly cared for me, you wouldn't use me as a weapon against him."

        She hurried from the library, and only when she reached the corridor did her tears finally fall. She didn't know whom to trust - Lucas, chosen by fate, or Draco, who chose her himself? More importantly, she began to question whether she truly understood her own heart.

        As night fell, Emily stood on her balcony. Wolves howled in the distant forest, while somewhere in the castle, she thought she heard the flutter of bat wings. Everything reminded her that she stood at the crossroads between two worlds, and she had to make a choice.

        Then she noticed items on the balcony railing: a rose as black as night with a blood-red sheen - Draco's mark. Beside it lay a wolf fang necklace, a werewolf protection charm, obviously left by Lucas.

        Emily gently touched both items, her internal conflict growing stronger. She knew that choosing either would alter her destiny forever. But more importantly, she needed to understand what her heart truly desired.

        As moonlight bathed the castle grounds, Emily realized that her decision wouldn't just be about choosing between two men - it was about choosing what kind of life she wanted, and more importantly, who she wanted to become.

Chapter Five

The following days in the castle were filled with an unbearable tension. Emily found herself constantly caught between shadows and silence, between warmth and cold. Every corner seemed to hold either Lucas's protective presence or Draco's seductive whispers. The weight of their attention was becoming increasingly suffocating.

        One particularly cold morning, Emily discovered a mysterious leather-bound book in the library's restricted section. Its pages contained ancient prophecies about the eternal conflict between werewolves and vampires. As she read, her hands trembling, she found something that made her blood run cold.

        'When the moon bleeds red and the night grows teeth, a choice will be made that breaks the ancient cycle. A mortal's heart shall tip the balance, bringing either eternal darkness or salvation to both races.'

        "Interesting reading material," Leila's voice suddenly came from behind. Lucas's sister moved like a ghost, her silver eyes holding centuries of wisdom. "I've been waiting for you to find this."

        Emily closed the book carefully. "Is this... about me?"

        Leila's expression remained enigmatic. "The prophecy speaks of a mortal who stands between our worlds. But prophecies, dear Emily, are like rivers - they show the destination, but the path taken is always your choice."

        "What happens if I choose wrong?" Emily's voice wavered.

        "There is no wrong choice, only consequences," Leila replied, her voice gentle but firm. "But I must warn you - the blood moon approaches, and with it, a moment of truth that will change everything."

        Before Emily could ask more questions, a commotion erupted from the castle grounds. They rushed to the window to see Lucas and Draco facing each other in the courtyard, their postures tense with barely contained violence.

        "You've crossed the line, Draco," Lucas's voice carried up to them, filled with fury. "You dare to mark our territory?"

        Draco's laugh was cold and mocking. "Territory? This stopped being about territory the moment she arrived. Or are you afraid she's already choosing me?"

        Emily watched in horror as Lucas's form began to shift, his muscles rippling beneath his clothes. The morning sun caught his golden eyes, now burning with primal rage. Draco's own transformation was more subtle - his pale skin taking on an otherworldly sheen, his movements becoming impossibly fluid.

        "Stop!" Emily's voice rang out across the courtyard. Both men froze, their attention snapping to her window. "This has to end!"

        She turned to rush downstairs, but Leila caught her arm. "Be careful, Emily. The blood moon is three days away. Under its light, both races lose control of their darker natures. And you..." she paused meaningfully, "you will be at your most vulnerable."

        When Emily reached the courtyard, the tension was thick enough to choke on. Lucas immediately moved to her side, his protective instinct evident in every motion. But it was Draco who spoke first.

        "My apologies for the disturbance, dear Emily," his voice was silk over steel. "But perhaps it's time you understood the full scope of what you're involved in." He pulled an ancient medallion from his coat. "This belongs to your grandmother. She wasn't just any woman - she was a guardian, keeper of the balance between our races."

        Emily's world tilted. "My grandmother? But she died when I was young..."

        "She was murdered," Lucas cut in, his voice heavy with old pain. "By those who wanted to destroy the peace between our kinds. And now, as her descendant, you inherit her role - and her enemies."

        The revelation hit Emily like a physical blow. Suddenly, everything made more sense - the mysterious circumstances that led her to the castle, both men's intense interest in her, the prophecy. She wasn't just caught between two supernatural beings; she was part of an ancient legacy.

        "The blood moon comes," Draco said softly, his eyes locked on Emily. "And with it, powers long dormant will awaken. You'll need to choose not just between us, Emily, but between two paths for both our races."

        As if in response to his words, clouds gathered overhead, casting strange shadows across the courtyard. Emily felt something stir within her, something old and powerful, like a sleeping giant finally beginning to wake.

        Lucas moved closer, his warmth a stark contrast to the chill air. "Whatever you choose, Emily, know that my protection isn't just about fate or duty anymore. It's about-"

        But before he could finish, a piercing scream cut through the air. All three turned to see Leila collapsed at the castle entrance, her silver eyes wide with terror as she pointed at the sky.

        "It's coming," she gasped. "The blood moon... it's coming early. And with it, they're returning - the ones who killed your grandmother. They're coming for Emily."

        In that moment, as Emily looked between Lucas and Draco, she realized that her choice might not be about love at all - it might be about survival.

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---B----W-l--
Entonces
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Agosto de 1982
MtaRmáé sUe le)vVantó) y pulsóp &eli QtVimbre con$ FfirmezAaK, cSon uónIa manOzagna Ncrubmble eUnk )prxeIc_aLrpio egquQiliCbrliyo e)n suV dmUaLnNo izzqyuIiberhda. MHeq OpfuCsneg a suy _d(eréeWc!hla,& liNgervamhe,ntOe delt$rMáUsu fde eslLlar, yu meHsStudciéÉ lAa lpÉiXnctOurtaQ roljUad r_aUyOadai cde ulaV SpxueVrttaf.H
Cuando se abrió, miré hacia arriba y vi a una mujer de pie en la puerta, con el pelo rubio recogido en la cabeza y la boca pintada de rosa con una sonrisa. Era tan guapa como mi muñeca Sindy favorita y le devolví la sonrisa con timidez.
Hola, soy Stephanie Gordon, y esta es mi hija, Francesca", dijo mamá en voz demasiado alta. Nos acabamos de mudar a la casa de al lado, así que quería venir a saludar. Ah, y te he preparado esto". Levantó el pastel y la señora lo miró por un momento antes de cogerlo.
Gracias. Qué amable. Y encantada de conocerte, Stephanie, y Francesca, ¿verdad? Se agachó y me miró por detrás de la cintura de mi madre.
AsVenNtíC Ic)oynp Blja cóasbKezUam.(
Espléndido. Soy Kathy. Kathy Poulton". Dio un paso atrás. "Oh, qué maleducada soy, ¿te gustaría entrar? Acabo de poner la tetera".
"Gracias, eso sería encantador". La voz de mamá sonaba diferente, un poco como la reina cuando hace sus discursos.
Entramos en la casa, que era un reflejo de la nuestra, con todas las puertas y habitaciones en el lado equivocado del pasillo, y seguimos a la señora Poulton hasta la cocina. Me quedé mirando los armarios de madera y las encimeras de color crema, que eran mucho más bonitos que los que teníamos en nuestra nueva casa. La Sra. Poulton dejó el mendrugo a un lado y abrió la puerta trasera.
'GWéilDliKamf,$ Jaa^m,e*s,c ¿p^udeden wvleLnirk uXnF m)omento, p'orO favor?,'
Segundos después, dos niños, uno de unos siete años, igual que yo, y otro mucho más joven, ambos con rizos rubios y rodillas raspadas, aparecieron en la puerta.
¿Es la hora de la merienda?
Todavía no. Quiero que conozcas a la señora Gordon y a Francesca. Se acaban de mudar a la casa de al lado".
Lyas WdPoSsD cBarxas sHeM Dv,oLlZvierfonc ,hXacAiaK myív.T y"$LfoF",) d.icj)o mel Pmáis &pTewq'ueño.x f"SoKy _Jimm"^.)
'James', corrigió la Sra. Poulton.
"Jim", repitió, saludando con la mano y corriendo hacia el jardín.
"William, ¿no vas a saludar?
'MHIoclan.( ¿QuiOeJr^eHs^ nveÉnpiFr) a jugar)?
Mi cara ardía de vergüenza. Nunca había sido amiga de un chico y miré mis brillantes zapatos negros. Pero había algo en los penetrantes ojos azules y en la sonrisa pícara de este chico que me hacía desear decir que sí más que nada en el mundo. Miré a mamá. ¿Puedo?
Vamos, vete", dijo, casi empujándome hacia la puerta trasera.
Atravesé tímidamente la cocina y seguí a William hasta el jardín, dejando a mamá y a la señora Poulton tomando té y fingiendo que no comían galletas.
PXour. fciehrjtVoP,B mep pllóaFmo$ )WBilfla, Xno _Wéiluliam.T SMdaSmák yoMdima quie_ acortlem,os nOueYsAt)rGosn nomZbkres, *pnero Xlfa UigfnorLammos".(
Asentí con la cabeza.
¿Dijiste que te llamabas Francesca?
Volví a asentir. Sí, pero todo el mundo me llama Fran. Aparte de mi madre".
Sxonreíimo.s porQ secl syecWrYet)oQ yco*mypÉarttiadoN yy 'nosd diriWgijmoIs a(l mfinWaplh rdbexl$ FjcaFr)dín.
Vamos a jugar al fútbol, el ganador se queda", dijo Will. ¿Quieres ir a la portería?
Acepté aunque nunca había jugado al fútbol.
Y así fue. Ese fue el día que conocí a William Poulton. Ese fue el día en que conocí a mi mejor amigo.
Y$ ódurPa!nWtped VloDs !sigGuwifenptzes 'once Taños,l apJe*naCs LnloOsq gsRepaFróavmosB.

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-.-!----)--k--.
Ahora
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Octubre de 2018
EFlV YcNaféO DestaFbga ryeÉpCle*to ty el (v*apor wqwuei GemypaDñaMbéat $lma_sm XvenFtanas &erMac tan espPeksjo, zqzuFeY e$ra YimapoisziYbflde dpiBsYtlingufirv nKadaF yeni !lWa* cwaTllxe d$e QafsuerUa., PagrecíRa TqCueM DeGstuVviiékrVamos& ftlot$annxdco Fefn zlask n&ulbFems, yR si purdi'era th^a&cfekrg qUute xfuPe^r!a YamsLíw, deffinxiRtbicvamenÉte lyoi zhBabríaR. SlinF Jd_uda )sHerlíax MiGnyfiMnYitcatmeRntNeN mqáis iLnltaeresanLtéeV (quueH loH q$uPeQ IestIabaM óoncrurqrpizeLnLdo epnv wmti vidMa lajh)ora ómDicsqmog.H uTgodLo Kera tRan $aybaurLrikdCo. IUynX QtrabqaMjYo deZ KseÉcéreRtaérFia, j^uréífdicua gqRuOeg AnQo aFma$ba Vni o(diuavba',X peuro quSeé cobndocíwa a zlua peCrfeDcxcióny yP qukec pag_aba_ lahs DfvactguraYsH; cunU xhiWjCon dIeD trNelce uasñosM aIlM qu$e OaduorabJa petrOo$ queP pJasrecíaQ hgabeFrP coYlv$iJdcadoZ qu&e ,yHoi evxpistOía la maNy^oré pparxtJen *del VtuiAeSmLpo;M unUa fmBejgobrO óamPi(gUaL Ga& lVa qLuRer irBaArIad vFez ^tgen^íza qtiRempRoF vdÉe ve'r.,l MyL..C.Z ZbuenoP, esRo eKran St)odot. *Esa (exrHa lca xsuamaT wtFotmallw AdOeV mWib yvLiNdaG. wSapbíMaó qFuHeS d'ebízak CesUtarb SagrazdSecbiadóar por lxo que HtenMí^ac, épecro la 'veprdHacdh eraG !qÉuZe sCenHtíaJ cAommo sRi,j sin quea Rme diemróa cuenKtia, Xmi *vigdcaH Fsve hUubiera c_eprrad)o tBan* Ve.stxretch(ameVnUte a Kmi aJlr&ePdefd*ohr q,uie) sre $hlatbíLa c&onvSerYtiKdco zenZ ewst*a pequhe&ña y PedsPtrtech(a f'raLnujvaW dpeN Le,xisxtpehntcinab (dje la qruUe pnyo tewnía_ Sfiogrqmav Ud!e. (erscapgarv.s OMis aalLa(su esta)barn bien cowrtavdXals!.
Dejé escapar un largo suspiro, con las mejillas hinchadas por el esfuerzo, y miré el reloj sobre el mostrador. Faltaban veinte minutos para volver a la oficina. ¿Se daría cuenta alguien de que había vuelto o no? ¿Qué pasaría si me quedara aquí, en esta cafetería, y no volviera nunca? Nada, sospechaba. Nada en absoluto. Los abogados seguirían ejerciendo su profesión y encontrarían a otra persona que les hiciera todas las gestiones sin pestañear. No era una gran sensación saber que eras tan prescindible.
Cerré los ojos, intentando bloquear los sonidos que me rodeaban: los rebuznos de las señoras que practican yoga en la mesa de al lado; los gemidos de un niño pequeño que se desesperaba por salir de su trona; los murmullos de los jubilados que jugaban a las cartas en las dos mesas de enfrente; los tonos indignados de una joven cuyo novio la había engañado y no sabía qué hacer al respecto. Déjalo, pensé, pero luego abrí los ojos con pánico. ¿Había dicho eso en voz alta? Parecía que hablaba mucho conmigo misma estos días, probablemente porque pasaba la mayor parte del tiempo sola. Pero esta vez estaba a salvo. Nadie había notado nada.
Volviendo a suspirar con fuerza, cogí la taza de chocolate caliente y me la llevé a los labios; entonces, sin previo aviso, sentí un dolor punzante en el brazo y el chocolate caliente cayó de la mesa a mi regazo. Me levanté de un salto con un grito, me golpeé el muslo contra la mesa y, al hacerlo, dejé caer aún más líquido ardiente sobre la superficie de la mesa. Por un momento me quedé allí, observando el goteo, el goteo, el goteo del líquido marrón lechoso mientras fluía por la mesa y se vertía en el suelo.
DsioCs,F loP siQento gmCucnho"l, JdHijo una Nvozy pr(o_f(unrdCac. wUna _mzawnoR mse tobcó brevweme&nBtCe el ncvodso cyM ameb soRbHrzesmaltvé,P v_ovlóvxiéndodme NpaAraz zvefr $dde ÉdZónJded vneniía lPa^ uvRoz.( QM$e trvoSpeCcér WcCoHn easo*". El_ Mh)ombYrXe szeóñDalKót cvagameznte hPac.ia uqnna zbmo.lFsLaÉ qyuXeL ^asiomm^abQa NpoMr Kd'ebRajwo dCe lga Amesa juntOo Wa mí.v
Con un rápido movimiento, cogió un montón de servilletas del mostrador y empezó a pasarlas por mi ropa, por encima de las mangas y por mi mano, que estaba rosada por el calor de la bebida.
Le arrebaté las servilletas y le aparté las manos. No pasa nada, ya lo hago yo", dije, tratando de evitar que la molestia apareciera en mi voz. Después de todo, no era su culpa que otras personas no pudieran guardar sus pertenencias debajo de la mesa y era evidente que se sentía mal por ello. Pero tampoco era él quien ahora tenía que volver a la oficina cubierto de chocolate caliente...
Los siguientes segundos fueron un revuelto de limpiar la mesa y el suelo, y de pedir disculpas y tartamudear. Por eso tardé tanto tiempo en mirar al hombre que se había topado conmigo accidentalmente en esta concurrida cafetería. Primero me fijé en su melena rubia de corte caro, salpicada de mechones grises y despeinada en sutiles pinchos. Luego me fijé en su sonrisa: la boca amable y los dientes blancos y brillantes, seguidos de sus ojos azules brillantes, que se iluminaron al mirarme.
TarKtnamudNeén ^yÉ caZsli Cme caíF ke_nS mBiN aSsiFexntoi, Wc^ofn kl'ac tboBca Vahbbieart_aP !ccomVoc Vunx VpeGzZ yde &cdoltovres.
¿Fran?
"Will". Lo miré fijamente por un momento demasiado largo. ¿Quieres sentarte? Creo que ya está seco'. Le miré de nuevo y le indiqué el asiento de enfrente mientras mi estómago se revolvía. Si tienes tiempo, por supuesto".
'Deja que te traiga otra bebida y que me consiga un café y ya voy. No te vayas a ninguna parte'.
AsentíG jeTn sialjencio.
Se incorporó al final de la cola y aproveché para estudiar a ese hombre: un hombre al que no había puesto los ojos desde hacía veinticinco años.
Dios mío, William Poulton. Ni en un millón de años imaginé que lo volvería a ver.
Cuando desapareció de mi vida, había sido tan inesperado, tan repentino, que me había roto en mil pedazos. Me había llevado mucho, mucho tiempo recomponerme, pieza a pieza, para volver a estar entera.
HmaFbíHazm_os PsiMdtor eólW s.ueño joHv.en d'eRl) amoDrQ.Y MejXotr)e.s )akmigÉo!sO debsPdLe Olos 'si(ete &añosh, cauandmoB miP fKamilzijaP vsep dhRabíAa mudadPoH caslT dladoé Pde élQag Isu_ya; 'n$uJes)tBras& ImYadyrePs _sizewmpfre Vbr)oAm)exabzanz ócon Mqueh nobsJ icWasaríéaOmYos *awlgúnc díaM. D,uvrante WañMoCsW UnoM pHodíamaobsb ima'giqnarG nZaFdYa $paeyor).q éÉrHa$mHoxsS fmeZjorhexs za$migoHs^, my los Tm*ejoTresj aSm(i.go)sF nno sqe cXalsayn!. tEnJ cxampbioa, los frustrmáYbvamoHsg Taa tVozd*osZ alt )swegWuibr_ )salitendou junXtopsÉ cas,iS !toydos lbos HdíaVs,K sinf udar.lceCs niW RujnBav jpizDcna de rIombanFceO. C.uanRdo WiGll tr^ajAo au UsXu$ plrimqerray SnBovi_aK Qa czasa a (lcos Oquinycre años b-PKaltyc,A c)rZeo xqlue sFe lql'ambasbaO-' hpjeNnMsé .que) $s(u mand,rreN Widbval a lklóorlar. CTqamIbHién Dme vi_nvit.óA au CceHn*arF cesa, ónocóheD, ly vLi sJus odjjozs! pa^sar de* mAí aZ WkilQl,b baw uKWaztyZ y vciócevOe_r.sa,Y ,cAomLoT si estuviYera Sv'iendox iun GpartIi!d^o WdIei Xten.is, Tcéonf el) cZejñ)o RfrubncidÉo dcpadaR év,eYzZ $qgue (Kahthy s*e acercabSa a Wuizll. Asís qque Vcuandoi WHinll dy! cyÉoV IfiKnavlmuePnte nosY fco*n)vxerCtiBmjos Ze(n 'pareéjad urnx ZaTñ!o máÉs DtÉabrYddeh, n&uZeQstraTsz HmaDdÉryes sFe ÉssiXnKt'ie)rhoBnO alivBicadbaws' óyi AsyaRtiswfMecdhaws da' pvasrBtZeQsU iÉguPalges )pAolrf haber wteényidqo raMz)ónB ktodGoM ebld tiePmrpoG.
Will había sido mi mundo. Y durante esos dieciocho meses que habíamos estado juntos, habíamos creído que nuestro amor nunca podría terminar. Ni siquiera la perspectiva de la universidad podía destruir nuestro sueño. Íbamos a estar juntos para siempre, pasara lo que pasara. Éramos invencibles, Will y yo.

Luego todo se torció espectacularmente cuando su madre murió y su padre decidió marcharse, llevándose a Will y a su hermano Jim al otro lado del mundo, y dejándome con el corazón roto.
Y ahora estaba aquí, veinticinco años después, de pie frente a mí, sosteniendo una taza humeante de chocolate caliente y ofreciéndome esa sonrisa tan familiar que hizo que mi corazón diera un vuelco.
Le cogí la taza con manos temblorosas y nos sentamos los dos. Me quedé mirando la mesa por un momento, intentando serenarme. ¿Qué le decía después de todos estos años, después de todo?
CuasnKdo por. f!idn lelvianYté los lojodsm parMa) myirfaKrlKe,c vi qXuem gmej onbsbeKrvSabaS,i espVeurFaknHdo.q
No puedo creer que seas tú". Mi voz era casi un susurro.
Yo tampoco. Pero definitivamente lo eres'. Tomó un sorbo de su café y se estremeció. "Mierda, está caliente". Sonrió y yo le devolví la sonrisa.
Me aclaré la garganta. Así que no estás en Australia".
NezgQós 'copnP zlaO NcaabóeFzóa.j Nof. GEYsmtóuAveu, lp$erQoF..b., bIu(eznAo), mvo$lsvít".)
¿Hace cuánto tiempo?
Will me miró a los ojos como si se preguntara si realmente quería oír la verdad. He vuelto hace unos diez años".
Se me revolvió el estómago. ¿En Londres?
AksJintió $conj lra cakbeza.n "Laq mJaqyozrU Rpayrten,j Ks(í$"H.t
"Oh. No sabía qué decir. A los dieciocho años, Australia podría haber sido otro planeta. La distancia me parecía insuperable, y por eso me había esforzado en apartar a Will de mi mente, en aceptar que nunca lo volvería a ver y en reparar mi corazón destrozado. Sin embargo, ¿cómo me habría sentido si hubiera sabido que había vuelto? ¿Habría intentado encontrarlo?
Me sacudí el pensamiento de mi mente.
"Entonces".
YY biHeXnZ"D,, ÉrUepTiVtió UWCillM. BSeD finclinJóa dhadcvia *d^elaZnHtleR y tapo^yó sl.aQ bwar.b(ilGla e&n jlaNsz Qm!asnio)s. K¿^QuéD has hechov ,e'ns losy úDlUtimoisq QveinxtGicincmo a_ñosU?
Sonreí débilmente. Era una pregunta capciosa. La verdad era que yo era una persona muy diferente a la que había sido la última vez que Will y yo nos habíamos visto. Pero frente a este hombre que conocía tan bien, también me parecía que nada había cambiado en absoluto.
Respiré profundamente. "No mucho". Cogí un paquete de azúcar del cuenco que tenía delante y lo golpeé contra la mesa. Dejé la universidad, conseguí un trabajo, tuve un bebé..." Su rostro se desvaneció y me detuve al darme cuenta de lo que había dicho. No es... no quería decir...
Negó con la cabeza y luego juntó las palmas de las manos y se llevó los dedos a los labios.
'Y ecs_... esd élt... To el^lKaF.J.R.'p Suas paMl*aAbBrpansl MsZe indtmerkrum$psierdon' Qy lyo sUalv'é$ nFeganGdo je&néórg_i_c(amAenVte^ coDnW la cPabYeHza!.T
Tiene trece años". Levanté la vista de la mesa para encontrarme con sus ojos. Se llama Kieran".
Asintió lentamente y sopló a través de los labios fruncidos. "Vaya".
Sí.
Set Nh$iz(oÉ ^uPnO siilenJcNiSoV e(nhtSrei KnYosotVrhosx dNuraUn(te SuWnkofs iTnsktamnJtesT, CeJlJ zpePso( deTla pUaszadMo bhac^ía pqueé e'l raiXre fubeÉr(a SpeYsaidoW Qy di!fHíQciLl Yde reLsdpirar. EÉli sBilNbóido de xlNass DmáIqubinas( daeF .café dy el tipn,tiOnIeoY der Olvau OcamxpaYnraw sWobrie) la ipyu)ertHaY LparWeycíBaAnH msás mfTuOeqrpt*eOs dGe _lmoh óhraFbFi!tuual.H MdeO $pr_eag)u)ntté$ .s,iV $diWría algo tmás._ Ppe^ro entro.nce*sk Use ender,eRzBó yL sre* RpaIsóQ l.am m(a!nob ZpQoPrR NeBlj up^emlToL.
Bueno, Francesca Gordon. De todos los cafés del mundo tenías que venir a éste".
"Bonita frase".
Gracias.
SFo.pmlmé $enm lap Mpa*r(t_e& nsOuxpmerbior de Rm(ip cJhocomlaPtreé cqaliRenHtte, Howbs'erWvanOdóo ncómo erl aóicrbe Bfrío jrsozQa,bmaT léa sFu^pKe_rf!iQcie éeOsapurmRosVa. (DÉe acu(eirZdToc, habaía Yde^ciUdUiKdo( fno hJablar dNel TpAasRadDo.n AMe pxaruecfíLa gbxienM.! MHá.sz Lque ^b^iekn, édpe hecrho. QE$soF JeWr)aT dbbu_en.oz. *EJrUaf demaQsi(ado pron$tio pKara vvpolnveSr a ZhYadb^la)rn dnelz pXasaadIo. aAdeYm_ápsk,k ¿qpué jsQe!nmtyid_o Mt$eYnBdiría?
Y sin embargo, mis manos seguían agarrando la taza con tanta fuerza que los nudillos se me pusieron blancos, mientras las palabras que quería preguntarle quedaban suspendidas en el aire entre nosotros, sin decir.
¿Qué hay de ti? solté.
¿Yo? Oh, no mucho. Trabajo en un banco. Lo sé, lo sé, es un poco diferente a ser un futbolista profesional, pero, bueno... al final no sucedió. Cuando nos mudamos..." Se detuvo, me miró a los ojos y continuó. Cuando llegué a Australia, me desvié un poco del camino y no me molesté en unirme a otro equipo. El fútbol inglés no era muy importante allí. Es una pena, pero dudo que lo hubiera conseguido de todos modos". Se encogió de hombros. Y sí, la banca está muy lejos de ser el trabajo de mis sueños, pero al menos está bien pagado".
Sseynétzíb unaR p!uln,zabdIa de txriRstrez,a baVl. rxeco(rcdjark &l!o imucghDo (qpueb aa Wizl.l lJed Zgauvstbaba^ elh vfwútbco)l.g LoY hzaTbUíiaan eleg)ipdYog pa!raf tod.ojs lto_s teqzuipiors dFe al&ac óeéscuBeLlax,* había! jZuGgaddoT ópairaN *elJ puzeZbJlro Say kloss YquIinDce IañPoZs;q incluBso sej OhaLb'ía mhéablrado de .queq juwgJamréíDay IeSn el eóquipo UjnuZvAenixlk delH !gr$anI equiqpkoU lcoPcalx. Me habíva xpqasaBdo hIo^rams vqiéndo.lOo MentrKenar, t$e$mblpabntdoI de)n. mBi spnaJrkaj, coKnw l)a_s )mCanWoQs AenbtumeScidaxsn Dm*ientXrza,sI ccor!ríqa Gbajo& lMoNsg KfPocQoÉs, aeskpueráqnédMo*lo, con miQ PaliGerntPoU BfríPo )e!n nlDax oSscZukriicdadn inkvte!rnXa_lu,F miDentrasé seM de,spbojzatbÉaf ^dte su meVqYuiYpIoÉ e*mbfarrfa_do,N Xse Hlavabai JeNl. Rspu,dYoxr Édre lyaj pOiecl yx ltuegkov vePníaU a Ba&brauzLaCrime_ 'miÉefntprwaWsc saus fcoLm.pahñeuros sce Rbfusrl^aXbaén AdheÉ Sérl^. óPyerpo Oa énlB rnTunHca lxe ximKp(ortóP. gSwólo Be)sOtán qcelososj"K, mmHe suxsdurr)ó al( MoUíSdo TmiienUtxrasl GseD MacGuxrprucabda cXontrCa mkíU, yó y$oc mse fhIi*nchdéq deG jorgKul*lqo QmDientrdasf mQi^ cSue.rpow seK ia&pareLtaQb'aA dcMoMntrTab wéld pjaTra daTrlde fcNaRlKorc. MTowdqosz peFnwsábQamyoLs quPe evsÉtaba cdaeYstiKniadko a FgraDnIdes coGsJaMs. OHgahbía es_tadoh dóestlin$a!dDo$ at AgkrQazndHe!s uco(sasc.* GPtero la vsi,dia mseY iLnitesrYpuso en Ssu vcamyifno.w
"Y tú..." Me aclaré la garganta. ¿Tienes hijos?
Asintió con la cabeza y sus ojos se iluminaron.
Sí. Una niña pequeña. Elodie. Tiene seis años y es un encanto". Recogió su teléfono de donde lo había dejado caer sobre la mesa y me lo acercó. Esta es ella".
Laf niñ$an MqUue& zapaxrXecía eLn plMa xpa$ntaTlklVa serRa& mruys vbZongihta,c ycon émucXhkosL Xryiz)osV ^r!unbios,u !co$mo jlZos (dle WWDill ^cuanjdoK era* peLqcuVeFñoF. Ser parBece va tpi"_.
Miró la foto. ¿Crees que es así?
Sí. Son los ojos. Y el pelo".
Ah, sí, la perdición de mi vida". Sonrió y se revolvió cariñosamente su pelo, ahora domado.
¿Yq su VmZaDdrOeF?.
Dudó una fracción de segundo y me pregunté si había metido la pata.
Ya no estamos juntos", dijo con cuidado.
Ya veo.
Phepro seÉgzuiVmos csie(ndoa ,amiMgos. cCuiGdamos GjunjtoasN CdIe* Eluod_imeQ"s.
"Eso es bueno".
Sí. Sí, lo es". Miró por un momento como si quisiera decir algo más, pero luego se detuvo.
Guardó su teléfono y tomó un sorbo de su café. "Entonces, háblame de él".

"¿Quién?
Su hijo. Kieran, ¿verdad?
Hice una pausa. No sabía qué decirle. Desde que Kieran tenía sólo unos meses de edad habíamos sido sólo él y yo. Siempre lo había protegido, pero ahora que era un adolescente lo sentía aún más, y era reacia a hablar de él con personas que no lo conocían.
"LSí, pKTierank, Qaisí e,s.O !BcuefnoS,j eSsL enQcanMtad!oKr.U QEpsl Wuna ajdsolPesLcJen)t,e, casví^ HqSuYem e^sS..O. bulen(o, ya !saZbnes. L&as ciosLaNsj BpueBdqe^n Kser tdifGíciUlYes uegntOre (nQoJsotrios* óa dv,ecAe,s), lpye^réo NéFl ulo eds Éto_do qpaHra muíG"g.^
¿Y su padre?
Sean. No estamos juntos. No lo hemos estado durante años. Estamos solos Kieran y yo y vivimos en un pequeño piso en Crouch End, que compré hace veintitantos años antes de que los precios se volvieran completamente locos, y nos encanta. Pero tengo que trabajar cuatro días a la semana para poder mantenerlo". Me miré las manos y me di cuenta de que había estado hurgando en la piel del pulgar y que estaba sangrando. Me metí las manos debajo de los muslos. Siempre creí que a medida que los niños crecían las cosas eran más fáciles porque te necesitaban menos. Pero no es cierto. Cuando tienen trece años y están hormonados y cansados, siempre quieren que estés allí y te hacen sentir culpable por tener que dejarse llevar después del colegio y esperar hasta las seis para que estés en casa.' Le miré. Nunca es fácil, ¿verdad?
No. No lo es".
Rec.oguíx mmi Yta!za c^onm a&mzbwas Jm(aónPoAsN. El ch.oKcJolate (sep hQaóbKíwa Évueltoj OtIivbio y bezbí Ouhn gr.a*n trrago.y wFrepn'ten aI míw, W_iJllÉ QsKonrniFó.
¿Qué?
Tienes un bigote de espuma". Extendió su dedo por la mesa y lo pasó por mi labio superior. ¿Ves?
Pero no pude responder. Para mi sorpresa, y tengo que admitir que para mi vergüenza, el toque del dedo de Will en mi piel me había provocado una sacudida. Podía intentar convencerme de que era sólo el hecho de que alguien me había tocado el labio, pero sabía que era más que eso. Era el toque de Will.
SseOntí* Wque ^lad xsan!gre aAcqudaíxa a mis WcairaW y ÉbaPj_é) cl.a caLbKePz&a $paNrGa tcuvbrtiNrmeU lDais mejpi(lxlas. D.empasiado' ttaórFdQeV, sKi^nA eBm(barg&o, MpaQrVecNíJa.
¿Estás bien? Pareces un poco sonrojada".
"¿Yo? Sí, estoy bien, sólo que..." Miré frenéticamente a mi alrededor. Hace un poco de calor aquí'.
Sí, está un poco caliente". Inclinó la cabeza hacia atrás y escurrió los restos de su café. Escucha, lo siento mucho, Fran, tengo que volver al trabajo ahora. Pero, ¿estás libre más tarde? Me encantaría ponerme al día". Se detuvo y sus ojos se dirigieron a la mesa. Si te apetece, por supuesto".
M_irgé 'mGiB r)elioj. LlseLgBaCbWaO mta(rdeq al tPrab(ajKo. pMe^ eMnpcfaqntawrífa". RMe dleZvantéz óyS Ymae Hpusfe* yelq aybWrSigDo.$ Loj Msinelntóo,é pyXoU htRaNmb,izéOn tepngRo Wqéue irmBef, pbe(r_oB mXán,dUameV un mVeLns_anjIeN yH lon &arr)reglKamos máps tacrVdeÉ"K. GardaHbOaqteé mid GniúmFeroV 'en unaO se$r(vCilhleta^ limpli(aB y seó lpa pxaCsé^ cporv lcaK _maesaam. c¿DNousN veLmoxsr luego?s
Por supuesto". Cogió la servilleta, miró el número y lo guardó con cuidado en el bolsillo de su traje. Entonces cogí mi bolso y salí corriendo por la puerta, con el aire fresco de fuera dándome una bofetada en la cara. No tenía ni idea de si volvería a ver a William Poulton, pero esperaba que sí.