We're sitting on the terrace overlooking the city. The sun has set and the lights of Mexico City are coming alive below us.
Lina is curled up next to me on the lounge chair, her head resting on my shoulder. She's wearing one of my hoodies because she got cold. It's too big on her. She looks small in it.
Vulnerable.
We've been sitting like this for an hour, just talking about nothing important. About the view. About work. About random things that don't matter but somehow do.
There's something different between us lately. Something softer. Less like a business arrangement and more like... like an actual relationship.
I know I need to talk to her about what Teodoro said. About the grandchild. But I'm nervous. Not the calculating nervous of someone worried about a deal falling through. But real nervous. The nervous of someone who cares about what another person thinks.
"Can I ask you something?" I say quietly.
"Of course," Lina says, tilting her head up to look at me.
