Life has a way of catching us when we least expect it. Just when we think we’ve learned to live with the wounds of the past, a single moment can reopen everything we thought was buried. That is what happened to me on the day of my best friend’s wedding.

Five years had passed since the woman I loved — the mother of my daughter — had left this world, or so I believed. I had built a new life, raising my little girl with all the strength I could muster. I thought I was moving forward. But when the bride’s veil was lifted that day, my world shattered.

How We Met
I never planned to meet Lucía. I wasn’t even supposed to go to the party where our paths first crossed. My colleague Marcos had practically dragged me there, insisting I needed to stop burying myself in work.

I remember walking into that apartment in Madrid, feeling completely out of place. The room was filled with wealthy young people sipping wine, while I stood there in worn jeans and an old T-shirt, exhausted from my construction shift.

And then I saw her.

Lucía.

She didn’t belong there either, though I would later learn she had only stopped by to drop something off for a friend. Our eyes met across the crowded room, and in that instant, something sparked.

I asked Marcos who she was. He gave a low whistle and shook his head. “That’s Lucía. Don’t even try it. Her family owns half the city.”

But I was already walking toward her.

“Javier,” I introduced myself.

She smiled. “Lucía. You look as uncomfortable here as I am.”