The Tuesday morning sun bathed Cancún in a clear and promising light, very different from the emotionally charged atmosphere that had enveloped Lysandra the day before. After a quick and silent breakfast, after Fernando had already left for his business meetings, a tacit agreement seemed to float between Lysandra and Ruby: today they would explore.
"So," Lysandra said, as the driver discreetly waited for them next to the obsidian-black car. The memory of their mutual admiration from the previous morning, that moment of unexpected connection when they saw each other dressed up, still floated subtly between them. "If you really want to experience a different kind of Cancún, I suggest we head south of the city, away from the more well-trodden hotel zone. There's a restaurant district with a more local feel, and one place in particular that prepares buffalo meat that is... an experience."
Ruby, who today wore sand-colored linen pants and a terracotta silk blouse that brought out the green of her eyes, raised an eyebrow delicately. "Buffalo," she repeated, her voice melodious with a hint of surprise. "I must admit I'm not much for red meat, Lysandra. I prefer things that are lighter. But," a spark of curiosity flickered in her eyes, "you've intrigued me. If you recommend it with that conviction, who am I to say no to an 'experience'?" She smiled, and Lysandra felt again that strange mix of openness and enigma that Ruby projected.
They settled into the car, and as they drove away from the walled tranquility of the mansion, Lysandra began pointing out a few points of interest, talking about the history of the town, its transformation from a small fishing village to a global tourist destination. Ruby listened attentively, asking intelligent questions that demonstrated genuine interest, not the simple courtesy of a tourist.
But as they chatted, Lysandra noticed that Ruby's gaze sometimes wandered for a moment, as if she were pondering something within. And she wasn't wrong.
"I should tell him," Ruby thought, as she studied Lysandra's profile, the way the morning light accentuated the elegance of her features and the thoughtful gleam in her violet eyes. "This 'acquaintance' charade is ridiculous. Lysandra is no fool; she must feel the connection between Fernando and me. But how to explain it? How to put words to something I can't quite define myself?"
She shifted slightly in her seat, the soft leather creaking beneath her. "We're not dating, not in the traditional sense. There are no formal promises, no wedding plans on the horizon. Fernando is… Fernando. A free spirit, a whirlwind of energy and ambition, and I… I'm his anchor, sometimes. His confidant. His partner in his wildest adventures." "Lovers? Yes, there has been that, of course," she admitted to herself, a faint blush rising to her cheeks that she hoped Lysandra wouldn't notice. "The passion between us is undeniable, a force of nature. But reducing it to that would be like saying the ocean is just salt water. It's so much more."
She remembered the nights in Shanghai, discussing philosophy until dawn in her apartment overlooking the skyscrapers. The weeks lost exploring forgotten temples in the mountains of Yunnan, where the only company was the two of them and the echo of centuries. The shared laughter over a failed business, the unconditional support in the face of a triumph. They were a team, two souls who recognized and complemented each other in a way that defied conventional labels.
"I'm not even sure what we are," she sighed internally. "How then could I explain to her sister something so complex and yet so insultingly simple to see when we're together?" It's that chemistry, that way of understanding each other without words... How do you define that? Does 'soulmates' sound too cheesy? Is 'life partners' too formal for how chaotic and free our relationship often is?
She felt the need to be honest with Lysandra. There was something about Fernando's sister, that mix of fragility and strength, that depth in her gaze, that attracted her, that made her long for a genuine connection. She didn't want Lysandra to think she was being cheated on or that there was something sordid about her relationship with Fernando.
For her part, Lysandra, as she described the history of an old hacienda that was now a trendy restaurant, couldn't help but feel the subtle tension emanating from Ruby. She noticed her longer silences, the way her gaze sometimes became introspective. Curiosity, which had been a constant since she met Ruby, sharpened.
"She's thinking about something important," Lysandra told herself. «Something related to Fernando, without a doubt. Nobody believes that 'acquaintance' story. The way they look at each other, those shared chuckles... it's much more than that. But what exactly? She doesn't seem like the typical girlfriend, not in the way Fernando usually presents his partners, when he does There's a... equality between them, a kind of unspoken pact. Or am I projecting my own complications onto them?
She'd already dismissed the idea of Ruby being a mere assistant. The energy Ruby projected, her confidence, the way Fernando clearly valued her presence and opinion, didn't fit that role.
"What's she thinking now?" Lysandra wondered, casting Ruby a discreet glance. "She seems like she wants to say something, but hesitates. She's so... opaque when she wants to be. And so transparent at other times. She's fascinating." Part of her, the innate investigator, the cartographer of secrets, wanted to press, to ask direct questions. But another part, the one that remembered the warmth of Ruby's compliment the previous morning, the one that felt a budding, strange affinity with this woman, decided to wait, to give her space.
The car now entered an area with narrower streets, lined with restaurants with colorful terraces and the tantalizing aroma of cooking food. They were arriving. And Lysandra felt that, like the culinary fate that awaited them, the conversation with Ruby was also about to enter new and uncharted territory. The tension was almost as palpable as the aroma of roasting meat that was beginning to waft through the air.