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Maybe I’m her anchor? And not just an anchor when the waves get rough, but her sail. The one who catches the wind and carries her wherever she dreams of going. Because a woman like Camila? She’s not meant to be steered—she’s meant to be free.
“Have you ever had Chilean food here?” she asks, taking me out of my thoughts.
“Not really,” I say as I try to think if I’ve ever seen a Chilean restaurant in the city. “Unless you count my mother cooking my favorite meal while she visits, then no.”
“And don’t you miss it?”
I shake my head.
“Wow. I think that’s what I miss the most about Colombia. Well, the food and the weather. I never experienced winter until I moved here.”
I’ve never thought about whether I miss home or not. At first it was an adjustment, coming from a small town to a metropolis, but money makes everything easier. I was able to see the world and live a life only a few dare to dream about.
Then as I became older, everything became boring and turned into a routine. The fancy buildings and trips soon turned into background and lost their luster.
“That’s right, you don’t really have seasons in Colombia,” I add and she nods.
Suddenly, I feel the need to know everything about her, from the beginning. So that’s what we do. On the way to the marker we talk about our experiences growing up in Latin America and the differences between Chile and Colombia. It’s shocking and exciting to learn that despite the many differences, there are many things we have in common.
“Oh, I forgot to mention—Ava loved her brooch. She even made you another drawing as a thank you,” she says, a cheeky smile spreading across her face as she turns toward me.
She’s definitely getting comfortable around me, and I send a silentthank youto God above for this small but significant improvement.
A genuine smile spreads across my face. My heart does a funny somersault whenever Ava is mentionedIt’s a tender and sweet sentiment that makes me incredibly happy.
“I’m glad she liked it. That was the goal.”
“Are you always this candid?” she asks, sarcasm evident in her tone.
“I’m a man of few words.” I shrug and she smiles.
“I’m sure there’s so much more to you, Vicente Godoy.”
For once, I feel like I don’t have the words to express myself. This is uncharted territory. Any other woman would be at my beck and call, begging me to marry her. No questions asked. But Camila decided she wants to make me work for it. I’m not used to anyone negotiating back. That’s why I’m ruthless in the boardroom. But if I want her to agree to marry me, I can’t be ruthless. I need to abide by her rules.
“What do you want to know?” I ask as I let her guide me through the market. I can’t believe it’s my first time here despite all the years I’ve been in London.
“Did you always want to take charge of your family’s vineyard? Or are you doing it just because it’s what you think is right?”
Damn, she’s starting strong. I take my time to really think about it.
“I can’t remember a time when I didn't know this was supposed to be my destiny. I can see my father telling me that I was born to carry the Godoy name into the next generation. I never really refuted it. I guess I took it as my duty as the oldest of my siblings.” I shrug and when I look down at her, she’s smiling but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“But have you ever thought about what you would like to do if the vineyard wasn’t in the picture?” She stops walking and turns to face me.
Releasing her hand from mine, she places it on my chest and the jolt of electricity that runs through my body is what I think it’ be to be shocked back to life.
“What does Vicente Godoy, a handsome, smart, wealthy man want?” Her eyes dart side to side, like she’s trying to find any clue, any answer in mine. I release a breath, my shoulders sag. The truth is I don’t know. And that makes me feel weak and unworthy. Not something I consider myself. So I shake thethought out of my head and place my hand on top of hers, pressing it closer to my chest.
“I don’t know. But I can tell you that after my time in Chile, observing the vineyard, this past month, I felt it was my calling and I’m ready to take whatever steps necessary to be worthy of my father’s trust.”
“I love that answer but before I continue with my interrogation, we’re here.” She turns and motions with her arm to show me a small booth. A sign with the Colombian flag is the only indication of the food they sell here.
The woman at the booth gives Camila a big smile the moment she spots us and Camila replies in kind.
“Hola, que gusto verte. Y Ava?”The woman greets Camila while looking around us for Ava.
“She’s at school. I’m here with…” Camila trails off.