I've known Sheldon since I was fifteen. At first, our relationship was a complete disaster. He was twenty-two, freshly graduated from college, with no experience at all, yet my grandfather decided to hire him. He didn't do it for his degrees or his youth, but because he saw something in him that is rare these days: loyalty. My grandfather always had that almost supernatural ability to recognize that quality in people.
The day he was assigned to work with me, Sheldon thought he would be like a babysitter, doomed to deal with a spoiled, pampered, and capricious girl, as many assume children from wealthy families are. But to his surprise—and perhaps to his disappointment—I wasn't like that.
As the days went by, he realized I was nothing like he had imagined. To our mutual surprise, we began to get along almost immediately, eventually becoming close friends. Over time, he became indispensable in my life, though our bond was never ordinary: in public, he was always polite, distant, and correct, but when we were alone, his demeanor changed completely.
Sheldon could forget all formalities and scold me like an older brother. He seized every opportunity to launch his blunt comments at me, a roughness disguised as affection that never intended to hurt me. And I, of course, knew how to return his jabs with the same intensity. That was our way of loving each other: through teasing, reproaches, and affection hidden beneath a mask of irony.
And even though he sometimes drove me crazy, I had to admit that, in the hardest moments, he had always been there.
Along the way, Judith's phone rang: it was her mother. Apparently, she had already learned that Judith and Amber had taken a break. I didn't want to listen to the conversation, but inside the car, it was impossible to avoid it. To distract myself, I decided to open the folder with Judith's information. That way, when she finished talking to her mother, we could focus on getting to know each other more systematically.
I started with the basics: her full name, place of birth, the university she graduated from… things I already knew and, honestly, were boring to read again. However, the truly interesting part was further down.
The list of certifications was endless: industrial engineering, first aid, robotics, mechanics…
"Mechanics?" I whispered incredulously, smiling nervously before continuing.
Mechatronics, baking, project management, cybersecurity, digital marketing, e-commerce, graphic design, video editing… Was she a genius? She had everything. Now I understood why everyone considered her the perfect candidate to be the successor of the Preston company.
This was bordering on absurd. The only thing missing was a nuclear engineering certificate…
"No way," I murmured, frowning, when I found it at the end of the list.
I was stunned. What would she even need that for? And then I understood what Robert had meant: marrying her was more than beneficial. Judith wasn't just prepared; she was more qualified than me in every sense. Had I taken control of her company, we would have faced countless complications.
I don't know why I smiled, but the idea gave me a strange thrill. The rivalry between us would have been so intense that I surely would have gone crazy. Yes, undeniably, she would have been a headache.
I kept reading, and the surprises didn't end: she was an environmentalist, a defender of human rights, women's rights, the LGBT community, and animal rights… and she even participated in protests. That intrigued me. How many times had she done all this without the press knowing that she was the daughter and successor of the Prestons? I made a mental note to find out.
I moved on to her hobbies and nearly choked on my own saliva.
"Skiing?" I froze. "She doesn't have the physique of someone who skis…" I mentally scolded myself for thinking so superficially.
Well, she also liked camping, eating…
"Eating is a hobby?" I thought, confused. Another mental note: figure out what she really liked.
I continued: surfing, chasing perfection…
"Perfection is a hobby?" I frowned, convinced there was a mistake in the folder.
As if reading my mind, Sheldon whispered beside me:
"Nothing in Mrs. Judith's information is wrong."
"There must be a mistake here," I muttered under my breath.
"There isn't, Boss. And anticipating your frown… I must warn you, the fun part hasn't even arrived yet," he teased shamelessly, as always.
Thanks to Sheldon's words, I kept reading, now with more curiosity. I reached the part labeled "things she doesn't like" —and in parentheses, "that make her angry"—.
Imperfection, tardiness, disorder, boldness, lies, recklessness, despotism, lack of manners, disrespect for personal space, bad manners, laziness…
"Laziness?" I thought, startled. That hit close to home because, although I wouldn't admit it out loud, laziness was somewhat characteristic of me. "It's not that bad," I told myself, but apparently, to her, it was.
I kept reading: rude people, not putting down the phone when talking to her, and many other things. In short, almost everything seemed to bother her. I laughed nervously, feeling judged by the list itself.
Immediately, I heard Sheldon chuckle softly, satisfied that I had reached the part he had been waiting for.
"She's an interesting and complicated woman," he whispered conspiratorially.
"Complicated… I don't think that's the word," I wanted to correct him, just before a sound interrupted us.
A small, suppressed scream escaped Judith's lips as she spoke with her mother on the phone.
"You should have told me that earlier, Mother!" she exclaimed, holding back her anger as she clenched her fists tightly.
I looked at her through the rearview mirror. Her expression was on the verge of breaking into an outburst, like a storm announced by distant lightning. Sheldon, on the other hand, simply kept his eyes on the road, maintaining that cautious silence he only used when he knew any comment could be dangerous.
In that moment, I understood. She wasn't complicated or merely demanding. The word that truly described her was another—so clear it felt like the very air in the car: explosive.
I stayed silent, trying to keep calm while my eyes scanned the folder to continue reading. I had now reached the section on her qualities: Empathetic, authentic, strong, loving, creative, honest, supportive, respectful…
I rubbed my eyes and stopped reading. Just tell me she's the perfect woman, I thought. The more I read Judith's profile, the more convinced I became that the title of "perfect girl" belonged to her, because I still had too far to go to earn it in comparison.
"Are you reading my information?" Judith suddenly spoke, her voice serious.
I jumped, startled, because she seemed upset with me.
"Yes, it's just that…"
"We've arrived," Sheldon announced, saving me from the situation just in time.
Thanks to him, I got out to open the door for Judith so she could board the plane. My friend Mark, who was the pilot, was surprised to see me with her. I had no choice but to introduce her as my wife. He just smiled knowingly and, very kindly, asked us to come in.
During the trip, Judith only needed a few seconds of reading to start bombarding me with questions.
"You graduated a year and a half before college," she remarked, puzzled. "That means…" She looked back at the folder, frowning. "I'm older than you, yet you graduated a semester before me."
"That's correct…" I managed to say.
"You're like a genius!" she interrupted, excited.
"No, no, not at all. Actually, compared to you, I have a long way to go to earn that title," I corrected her honestly.
"You say that because I have so many certificates," she replied, a little awkwardly.
"Yes, that's right. You have so many that I can't help but wonder if your memory works like a computer," I said, curious.
"I won't deny that I have a good memory," she admitted, embarrassed. "By the way, it says here that you practice sports. Which ones have you practiced?" she asked, intrigued.
"All of them," I answered proudly.
"I mean the ones you've actually practiced and mastered," she insisted, raising an eyebrow.
"That's why I said all of them," I repeated, waiting for her reaction.
Most people were shocked when they heard me say that, because not only had I tried every sport, I had worked hard to master them. Judith looked at me incredulously, as if evaluating whether what she had just heard was even possible.
"Are you serious?" she asked in amazement. "How is it possible that you've practiced all of them?"
I noticed her expression combined skepticism with a hint of admiration.
"Well…" I said nervously, playing with my hands, "I was a little hyperactive, and my mother decided I had to release all my energy through sports. It was the only way I wouldn't stay awake all night," I confessed, a touch of embarrassment in my voice.
"You were like a hurricane," she teased with a mischievous smile.
"You could say I was like a hurricane recharging every day," I teased back, trying to downplay the seriousness of the topic.
"And are you still like that now?" she asked, genuinely curious.
"No, not anymore…" I replied evasively.
"She still is, Mrs. Judith," Sheldon interrupted, contradicting me mercilessly.
Judith raised an eyebrow in question, staring at me intently.
"You mustn't lie to me," she reminded me firmly.
"I'm not lying, it's just that I'm not like that anymore," I defended myself.
"Mrs. channels her energy by running, exercising, and participating in marathons," Sheldon added, shamelessly exposing me.
"You're very active, I see," Judith said, surprised.
After those words, she blushed intensely, as if she understood the double meaning they could have. I held back my laughter, realizing the same, but decided not to comment. We weren't friends yet, and I didn't want to make her more uncomfortable than she already was.
To break the silence that had formed, I said:
"You know? I saw that one of your hobbies is… eating." I said it incredulously, as if I couldn't associate someone so disciplined with something so simple.
Judith glanced at me sideways, a mix of shyness and amusement on her face, before replying:
"Yes, that's right. I like trying new foods in new places."
"And your favorite food is…?" I asked, curious.
"You could say the pasta Amber makes," she told me, her eyes shining.
"I see… but we can't tell my grandfather that," I reminded her conspiratorially.
Judith paused for several seconds. She knew I was right, and after thinking for a moment, she responded:
"How about we say… pizza?"
"Pizza?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow.
"But Hawaiian pizza," she emphasized seriously.
"I understand…" I replied with a teasing smile. "For some, it's a crime to like that pizza, but I love it," I confessed without remorse.
"Really? You like it?" she asked, incredulous.
"And you don't?" I asked, a little disappointed.
"Yes, I eat it, but it's not like I want to eat it all the time…" she admitted, shrugging.
"Then why did you choose it?" I asked, confused, trying to figure out the logic behind her choice.
"It's just that my brother Tomás doesn't like it," Judith laughed, shrugging slightly.
I should have started there, I thought, laughing along with her.
"Then I'll assume that's your favorite food… or am I wrong?" she asked, interested.
"You're wrong, I don't have a favorite food. I like everything," I said firmly.
"Good," she nodded. "Then you're a big eater," she accused, playfully.
"Of course not!" I stared at her for a few seconds and then gave in with a smile. "Well… a little," I laughed, lowering my voice.
She also let out a laugh before asking another question:
"Do you like animals?"
"Yes, I like them. Although I should warn you, I think cats hate me, because they always get defensive around me…"
"Mrs. Judith, that happens because Mrs. Mel always wants to touch their tails, and as you know, they don't like that," Sheldon explained seriously, without taking his eyes off his iPad.
"Mel!" Judith scolded me, surprised.
"I can't help it, their tails are so fluffy," I defended myself, crossing my arms.
"I'm not just talking about that… well, partly yes, but we said we weren't going to lie to each other," Judith reminded me firmly.
"And I haven't," I interrupted, raising my voice to defend myself.
"Nor to hide information," she added, insistently.
"Fine…" I finally conceded, defeated.
Judith smiled satisfied and moved on to the next question, though suddenly she went silent. Her eyes widened, and immediately her face turned as red as a tomato.
"Why is this question here?" she said, embarrassed.
"What question?" I was confused by her reaction.
"No, it's nothing. I misread the question," she replied hurriedly, trying to calm herself.
I was still puzzled, but decided not to push her. Something told me I shouldn't.
"Alright, let's continue. What do you do when you're not working, running marathons, or exercising?" she finally asked, looking me straight in the eyes.
"This is going to be interesting…" Sheldon murmured, still not lifting his gaze from his iPad, as if expecting a revealing secret.
"Well, I…" I hesitated, unsure if I should tell the truth.
I didn't think Judith would like knowing that, in my free time, the only thing I did was lounge on my sofa with a box of pizza and a bottle of water, letting laziness embrace me while I watched movies and series until I fell asleep.
"So…" she pressed, raising an eyebrow patiently.
When in doubt, rush it through, I told myself.
"I usually lie on my sofa with a box of pizza and watch movies or binge-watch a series," I finally confessed, a little nervous.
Judith watched me silently, as if analyzing every word. Then she opened her mouth but didn't say a word. She was astonished, and seconds later looked at Sheldon as if to confirm my words. He lifted his gaze from his iPad and simply nodded, a huge smile on his face.
"And do you do that often?" Judith asked, turning back to me with disbelief.
"Every Sunday, without fail," Sheldon confirmed, holding back a laugh. "What did you call it? Ah, yes… your new devotion." He gestured as if trying to recall it exactly.
"Wow, I didn't think you did that…" Judith murmured, still surprised.
"Right?" Sheldon interjected, agreeing with her. "Anyone would think that, with her hyperactive history and that good physique, she'd spend her weekends climbing mountains like Everest. But no… on Sundays it's as if someone drains all her energy," he commented sarcastically.
"I see… well, let's move on: your favorite series, movies, and…"
At that moment, the co-pilot interrupted over the radio, announcing that we had to fasten our seatbelts because we were about to land. The questions would have to wait.
The plane touched down smoothly, and after disembarking, we headed to the new mansion. Not even Sheldon had started the car when my grandfather called to check if we had arrived in the city. I assured him that we had and that we would soon be at the residence.
In his deep, authoritative voice, he reminded me to think very carefully about what I was going to do and not to make him angrier than he already was. "Believe it or not, I can still give you a headache that will follow you for life," he warned.
I felt powerless. I clenched my fists, held back my words, and just listened to the sharp click of the call ending. I sighed, trying to act normal so Judith wouldn't ask me questions. I was exhausted, at least for that day.
Once inside the private property, just a few meters away, the mansion appeared before us. I glanced at Judith out of the corner of my eye: she had her eyes fixed on the windows, studying the building carefully.
Sheldon parked in front of the main entrance, where several staff members were waiting. It seemed excessive to me to have so many people gathered there.
Judith got out first. I closed the door and watched her for a few seconds until I decided to extend my hand toward her. Judith, not understanding my gesture, looked at me confused, but with no other choice, I gently took her hand and led her toward the mansion.
In front of everyone, Judith and I were a married couple, and that façade couldn't break under any circumstances. That was when I understood: my grandfather had hired all this staff with a single purpose—to ensure that Judith and I would end up sleeping in the same room. A shiver ran down my spine. How had I not seen this coming? I scolded myself mentally.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Castles," an older man greeted us cordially. "My name is Nicholas, your butler."
"A pleasure, Nicholas," we replied in unison. I, somewhat clumsily, added, "She is my wife, Judith Preston, and I am Mel Castle."
"The pleasure is mine, ladies. Please, come in. I will show you the mansion," he said with a slight bow.
We crossed the main entrance, offering courteous smiles to the staff lined up along the hallway. Upon entering the living room, the surprise was inevitable: the place was almost empty, as if someone had ripped the soul out of the house and left only walls and floors behind.
"Your grandfather asked me to keep the mansion as empty as possible, so that you both could decorate it to your liking. As you can see, it has all the amenities he requested. It is similar to Mrs. Mel's single home, of course, only in structure," Nicholas explained solemnly.
The tour of the house lasted over thirty minutes. Every corridor seemed endless, each room so bare it felt like a blank canvas. Finally, I had to ask him to take us directly to the last room. My exhaustion was overwhelming.
"This is your master bedroom," he announced, opening the door with a ceremonious gesture.
I tried to relax, though the knot in my stomach reminded me of how tense I was about the situation. Judith, on the other hand, hid it perfectly; she even calmly walked around the room, touching the furniture and examining the details as if it didn't bother her at all.
"Ladies, if you need anything, you can call me. Now, with your permission, I will go direct the assistant to your room…" Nicholas said.
"No," I interrupted immediately. "No, Nicholas, Sheldon will go to his apartment."
"I understand, Mrs. Castle. And excuse me… may I ask you one question before I leave?" he politely requested.
"Of course," I replied.
"Would you like us to prepare a room for your nanny, in case she moves into the mansion?" he asked calmly.
"Don't prepare anything, Nicholas. I don't have a nanny," I said firmly.
"Very well, ma'am," he nodded respectfully. "I'll take my leave now." He made a slight bow before leaving the room.
"You don't have a nanny?" I heard Judith's voice close by, making me startle.
I turned to her, still recovering from the scare.
"No, I don't. It's a little hard to believe, but it's true. I'm an only child, and my mother was always with me while I grew up," I said proudly.
"Oh…" Judith responded, a hint of sadness in her voice. "I do have a nanny, Rachel…"
I realized I had overstepped by boasting about myself.
"But of course, you must have one," I quickly excused myself. "With a brother, your mother needed help."
She remained silent. Her quiet made it clear that what I had said wasn't entirely true, or at least not enough to erase the shadow that crossed her gaze.
"How are we supposed to sleep in separate rooms?" she suddenly asked, changing the subject.
The thought of that problem hit me like a bucket of cold water.
"We can't sleep in separate rooms…" I said in a thin voice. "But… I can sleep on the sofa," I suggested.
Judith scanned the entire room. There was no sofa, not even a small armchair.
"Do you see any sofa here?" she asked, raising an incredulous eyebrow.
I swallowed hard, feeling a shiver run down my spine. My grandfather had planned everything too well.
"We'll buy one tomorrow, but tonight I can sleep on the floor," I suggested, trying to solve the problem.
"Mel…" she said frustratedly, her tone reproachful.
"Judith, I don't know how many times I've apologized, and I think I'll keep doing it until we get divorced," I said with the same frustration, feeling the weight in my words.
"Forgive me, Mel, it's not your fault," she sighed, exhausted, as if the weight of the entire day had fallen on her.
"So, what do you say? You in the bed, and I on the floor?" I smiled, trying to lighten the mood.
"Both of us in the bed," she replied without hesitation.
I shook my head, but before I could respond, she added firmly:
"I'll put up pillows—don't think I won't make a wall."
"I don't want you to have problems with Amber, and I also don't want to pass my cold to you," I reminded her quietly.
"I'd never cheat on her, and she knows it. We've never argued about that, you know?" she said honestly.
On that topic, I couldn't really comment for two reasons: first, it wasn't my relationship; and second, I'd never been in one, so I didn't understand much about those dynamics. But if it were me, I would get quietly upset, even if I didn't show it.
"Alright," I agreed, "but I'll wear a mask," I warned her while she simply nodded. "Do you want to continue with the questions, or would you rather take a shower and rest?"
"I'd like to rest, but I don't have any clothes," she reminded me with a gesture of discomfort.
"That's not a problem. There must be something in the drawers," I told her.
Judith looked at me with suspicion, but she still walked over to the drawers. She opened them cautiously, and as soon as she saw what was inside, she closed them immediately.
"This must be yours because I don't wear sports tops," she warned, a slight blush on her cheeks.
I held back a laugh. I didn't understand why she was so embarrassed; after all, we were both women, right?
Eventually, she found what she was looking for: simple underwear and pajamas. With that in hand, she headed to the bathroom. I stayed sitting on the bed, scrolling through my phone, though in reality, I was just skipping videos without paying much attention. Later, I went to shower, letting the warm water relax my thoughts.
Afterward, both of us showered and changed, we went downstairs to have dinner. We shared the table in comfortable silence, no words needed, and then returned to the bedroom.
"Can I ask how you get along with your family?" Judith suddenly asked, breaking the calm.
"I get along very well with everyone, though it bothers me that they always comment that I don't date anyone…" I answered honestly.
"Do they say that very often?" she asked cautiously, as if afraid of making me uncomfortable.
"Unfortunately, yes, though now they won't. Well, we're married," I reminded her, trying to joke about the situation.
"And you get along really well with your parents, right?" she asked curiously, as if she wanted to know me beyond the surface.
I looked at her for a moment, wondering if that curiosity came from simple interest or if there was something more behind it. Her tone was soft, almost vulnerable, and for the first time, I felt the distance between us shrink a little.
"Yes, that's right. I get along well with my mother, although I always try not to make her angry, so I hold back from doing some silly things," I laughed sincerely. "But with my father, I don't hold back at all; he always supports my ideas, even if they're not so brilliant, but definitely adventurous," I shared.
"And you?" I asked, hoping she wouldn't be annoyed by my curiosity.
"It's complicated in my case," she sighed. "With Tomás, my brother, I get along very well. But with my parents… we've only just begun to rebuild our parent-daughter relationship."
I felt an impulse to reach out to her, even if only with words.
"I know we don't know each other very well, but if you ever need to vent to someone, I'm here. And whatever you tell me today, I will never mention it to anyone," I assured her firmly.
She looked at me intently, as if trying to see whether I was telling the truth. Then, with a broken voice, she confessed:
"My father didn't give me the presidency of the company because he's homophobic, can you believe it?" she almost shouted at the end, frustrated. "My mother supported him because she thought Amber was interested in something. The only people who supported me were my nanny and Tomás. How could they even do that to me? All because they didn't want me to be with a woman! And the worst part… both of them were my parents. The one who supported me was the woman who didn't even give me life."
Her eyes welled up with helplessness. I took her hand and squeezed it gently; it must be horrible to go through something like that. Apparently, that frustration had grown over time, and now it overflowed with every word.
"My mother always wanted me to be perfect. That's why she didn't hesitate to hire my nanny to take care of me, no matter what. I still remember when she said my nanny would only stay for a few months because she was too busy. But after those months… it turned into years. And now…" she bit her lip, fighting back tears.
"Judith, what is it that really bothers you?" I asked, confused and cautious.
She looked down before confessing:
"There came a point when I no longer cared what my parents thought of me. The only thing that mattered was what my nanny thought."
"Do you feel guilty for thinking you love your nanny more than your mother?" I asked gently.
"Yes," she murmured. "But it's not just that… I've tried to make things with my parents like they used to be, but it keeps getting harder."
"Have you tried spending a day with them and talking about everything that bothers you?" I wanted to know.
She shook her head weakly.
"Do it," I encouraged her. "But don't tell them as a complaint. Just express what you feel, or what you felt."
A deep silence formed, so intense it felt as if the room was breathing with us. She regained her composure and suddenly surprised me with a light smile.
"You know? For someone who says she can't feel anything for anyone, you're very good at giving advice."
I chuckled softly before adding with a teasing tone:
"I have trouble connecting romantically with people, but I'm not an idiot."
The tension dissipated with that spark of humor. That night, as Judith promised, she set up a small wall in the middle of the bed so I wouldn't cross to the other side. What neither of us anticipated was that, in the end, the one who would climb over that wall would be her.