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ONE

NATALIA

I was a sucker for romance and the idea of forever, but getting ready for tonight’s date felt like prepping for a showdown with El Chapo himself. My heart was racing, but my hands were steady as I applied my lipstick. The color “On Fire” was ironically appropriate for the evening I hoped to have.

I slipped off the hair tie, letting my dark waves cascade freely over my shoulders, and studied my reflection. The red dress, a snug number I swiped from Valentina—my best friend and confidante—clung to my curves in all the right places, transforming me into someone I barely recognized.

The last few weeks had been rough on the job, but tonight, I wasn’t Special Agent Natalia Ramírez. I was a young woman madly in love, excited for a special evening with the man I spent the last year of my life with.

My fingers quivered ever so slightly as I secured the intricate clasp of the gold necklace. The heart-shaped locket nestled perfectly, just grazing the swell of my chest. Within it, a miniature portrait captured Jason and me, beaming at the lens, our faces intimately close. The snapshot was a souvenir from our January getaway, a snowy escapade on Colorado’s ski slopes.

I glanced at the clock, the hands ticking to 6:45. It was time to move. Jason texted earlier, saying to meet him at Bella Notte’s at 7:30. Bella Notte was my favorite, and one of the most exclusive restaurants in Miami. With its crisp white tablecloths, flickering candles, and calm, intimate atmosphere, it was the kind of place people went to propose.

“You look nervous,” Valentina said as she leaned against the doorframe of my bedroom. Her sharp eyes took in my dressed-to-impress appearance.

“Nervous? Me? Ha. As if,” I forced a laugh, hoping to convince us both. “I’m just... eager. It’s been a while since Jason and I had a proper date night. I’m hoping tonight’s the night he?—”

“Pops the question?” Valentina finished with a knowing grin.

“Something like that,” I muttered, feeling my cheeks flush. “I mean, we’ve been together for over a year. It’s not crazy to think Jason might be ready to take things to the next level, right?”

“Not crazy at all, Natalia. It’s about damn time if you ask me. That man better propose, or I’ll have to pay him a visit.”

I threw my lipstick at her, but she dodged it with a laugh.

“Easy there, tiger. You don’t want to mess up that gorgeous face. Now, go knock Jason’s socks off.”

I grabbed my purse and keys, shot my friend an air kiss, and headed for the door.

The Miami sun hung low, blinding me as I emerged into the humid heat. I slid my sunglasses on, savoring the shield they offered, and inhaled deeply, a cocktail of anticipation and jitters swirling within me.

The cab ride was seamless, the cityscape blurring past until Bella Notte came into view. Inside, the air was alive with the hum of conversation, clinking glasses, and a sultry dance of soft jazz, the kind that wrapped around you like a velvet ribbon. The rich, heady scent of garlic and basil teased my senses, promising a night of indulgence.

The maître d’ greeted me with a polite smile as I approached his podium. “Buona sera, signora. Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes, it should be under Jason Crawford for 7:30,” I said.

He scanned his list and nodded. “Ah yes, here it is. Signore Crawford is already waiting at the table. Right this way.”

Butterflies danced in my stomach as I followed him across the dimly lit dining room. Jason stood as I approached, looking devilishly handsome in a navy suit that brought out his piercing blues.

“You look stunning,” he said, pulling out my chair like the perfect gentleman.

“Thanks, you don’t look so bad yourself,” I said, feeling my cheeks flush. He gave me a quick peck, not as long as I’d hoped.

We ordered our usual—fettuccine Alfredo for me, chicken Parmesan for him—and made small talk while we waited for our food. Jason looked a little nervous, his eyes darting around the room, but I attributed it to his planned surprise.

After the waiter poured our wine, Jason cleared his throat and reached into his pocket. My heart skipped a beat as I realized this was it. The moment I’d been waiting for. My hands froze on my wine glass as I held my breath, waiting for him to speak.

“Natalia, you know I care about you, right?” he began, his voice soft and a little hoarse.

“Of course,” I said, my heart beating so hard I could barely hear my voice.

He took a long breath and then blurted out, “I think we need to take a break.”

A sudden chill ran through me. I must have heard Jason wrong. “What?”

He looked down at his hands, twisted together on the table. “I care about you, but I think we need some space. I’ve been feeling a little smothered lately. Honestly, it’s not you, it’s me…”