Page 196 of Wrong Marriage. Right Groom
It reminded me of Rafael.
The thought came uninvited.
And stayed.
Ramiro closed the door gently before moving around to the driver’s side. Moments later, the engine came to life with a low, refined purr.
We pulled away from the hospital.
The drive felt like traveling through a world I had never truly known.
Buildings rose on either side of the street—some tall and modern with glass facades that reflected the sky, others older, with intricate details carved into stone.
Everything felt... intentional.
Beautiful in ways I hadn’t imagined when I could only piece it together through sound.
I found myself turning my head constantly, unable to focus on just one thing.
A café we passed—people seated outside, cups in hand, laughter visible even before it was heard.
A woman crossing the street in a flowing dress, the fabric catching the wind.
A child tugging at his mother’s hand, pointing excitedly at something I couldn’t see.
Life.
Everywhere.
“Overwhelming?” Ramiro asked, glancing at me briefly before returning his eyes to the road.
“Yes,” I admitted softly. “But... not in a bad way.”
He nodded, as if he understood exactly what I meant.
We drove in comfortable silence after that.
Eventually, the city began to thin. The streets widened, the noise softened, and the buildings gave way to larger properties—gated, private, distant from one another.
Then the car slowed.
We turned onto a long, sweeping driveway.
And my breath caught.
The estate rose into view slowly, almost deliberately, as if it knew the effect it would have.
It was—
Magnificent didn’t feel like a strong enough word.
The structure stretched wide, built from pale stone and expansive glass that caught the sunlight in dazzling reflections.
Tall columns framed the entrance, giving it an almost regal presence.
Terraces extended outward, layered and spacious, overlooking manicured gardens that seemed to go on endlessly.
It wasn’t just a house.
