XXXXIII. A Piece of Paper again

For several days, I kept visiting Antonio's room, hoping he would finally wake up because my worries had been overwhelming. Uncle Luis had been busy making sure Nadia would face legal charges and be held accountable, while I insisted that Alex go to school and look for Lara—I didn't want him to be so consumed by our problems that he would neglect his studies. I was doing fine myself; I had already been discharged from the hospital. But Antonio seemed to be enjoying his time as a patient—he still hadn't woken up.

As I gazed at Antonio's peaceful face, I gently held his hand.

"What if I punch you like I did to Nadia? Maybe then you'd wake up?" I muttered, not even sure why those words came out of my mouth.

"You're so weak. You're taking forever to wake up. I'm getting so annoyed—there's no one around to ruin my day," I grumbled.

Just as I was about to pull my hand away from his face, he placed his hand over mine. My eyes widened in shock, and I was momentarily speechless.

He chuckled, even though his eyes were still closed.

"You still have the nerve to laugh, huh?" I said irritably.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, and a sweet smile spread across his lips. Tears of joy welled up in my eyes again—I was becoming such a crybaby because of everything that had happened.

"You took too long to wake up," I said, trying to keep my voice steady so he wouldn't notice how emotional I was.

He let out a deep breath before speaking. "I'm happy because when I closed my eyes, you were the last person I saw. And now that I'm awake, you're still the first person I see."

"You're such an idiot, you know that?" I lightly smacked his shoulder, but he winced in pain, making me panic.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to! But it's your fault too—you brought this on yourself," I defended.

"A kiss would be enough to make up for it," he teased.

I shot him a death glare. "Do you want me to knock you out again?"

He just laughed, so I sighed in exasperation.

"I still remember how I first met you," he suddenly said.

"Yeah, right. You were always bothering me on campus. Acting like an annoying transfer student," I replied sarcastically.

He shook his head, making me frown.

"So, we met before that? Enlighten me, then. When, how, and where? Or are you just messing with me?" I asked, trying to make sense of what he was saying.

He chuckled. "Do you remember why my dad stopped selling ice cream?"

"Wait… didn't you say that's what your family did for a living?" I asked, confused and slightly worried.

He nodded before continuing. "There was once a little girl who threw a tantrum and forced her grandfather to buy her ice cream. Because she was so stubborn, her grandfather gave in and bought her one. But she wasn't satisfied, so the old man ended up buying all the ice cream my father was selling."

I was stunned into silence.

"That little girl happily gave away all the ice cream to the children playing on the beach. My father and I thought we'd get to go home early that day, but then the girl demanded that my father make her ice cream every day. My father couldn't refuse because her grandfather's offer was too generous. Eventually, he became the personal chef of that wealthy old man," he explained.

I smiled as tears rolled down my cheeks. He wiped them away, laughing softly.

"You remember now?" he asked, and I nodded like a child.

"Why did you leave?" I asked, feeling a pang in my chest.

"My mom got sick," he said. "Dad decided to retire to take care of her, but your grandfather took my mom to a good doctor, and she recovered. Your grandfather didn't want to lose his chef because he was afraid you'd stop eating," he added with a chuckle.

He smiled and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. "But then my father fell seriously ill. Your grandfather tried to help him financially, but my father chose to let go. He didn't want to burden anyone, and he couldn't bear the thought of our family being indebted to yours."

Even in his final moments, his father remained selfless.

"That's when I realized… after everything your family had done for mine, I promised myself that I would protect you as my way of saying thank you."

I sat there, looking into his eyes, feeling the warmth of his touch.

"I protected you from the shadows. I never expected to fall for you—but that's something I've never regretted. Eventually, I realized I could no longer protect you in secret because more and more people wanted to bring you down."

"How did you and Uncle Luis meet?" I asked, unable to stop my curiosity.

He stood up, grabbed something, and handed it to me. It was a photo of Uncle Luis and my grandfather smiling together, and I couldn't help but smile too.

"You already know that Uncle Luis and your grandfather were close friends, right? After his wife passed away, Uncle Luis went abroad to grieve and reflect on their memories together. While he was away, he heard rumors about what had happened to your grandfather, and he suspected foul play. So, he investigated and secretly looked out for you. That's how our paths crossed. When we learned to trust each other and realized we shared the same goal, we became allies."

My heart overflowed with gratitude. Even though my grandfather was gone, there were still people I could lean on and trust.

I let Antonio rest and stepped out to get some fresh air on the balcony. But after a while, boredom crept in, so I returned to his room. He was sleeping peacefully, but something on the table caught my eye—a piece of paper.

I picked it up and unfolded it.