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Mi Secreto es Amarte Novel Cover

Mi Secreto es Amarte

Fabiola, una maquilladora profesional, está en una relación estable y feliz con Danilo, un recien CEO de una empresa de autorepuestos; pero se encuentra entre la espada y la pared cuando conoce al hermano de su novio, Diego, un piloto de avión de prestigio, el cual resulta ser su antiguo amor de adolescencia que la dejó después de que en un noche ella se entrega a él en cuerpo y alma.
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Chapter 3

Para cuando la marea se calma y las sensaciones en mi cuerpo también, nos reunimos en medio de la sala.

—¿Y por cuánto tiempo vas a quedarte, hermano? —inquiere mi novio al castaño.

Yo me encuentro tomada de la mano de Danilo, más que para asegurarme de no debilitarme que por un gesto de amor, y me siento mal por eso.

Diego toma su copa y mira al rubio con cierto aire de arrogancia que me hace arder las paredes del estómago.

—El tiempo que desee, acumulé muchas vacaciones... —responde—. Y tú, ¿tendrás tiempo para mí o todo el tiempo libre lo inviertes en Fabiola?

El corazón se me paraliza al escucharlo decir mi nombre. ¡Él me conoce! ¡Claro que lo hace! Aprieto la mano de Danilo y este a pesar de tener rostro confundido por mi acción, solo se acerca para besarme la frente. Suspiro.

—Sí, pero haré lo posible por estar más presente... Hace unos meses me han promovido, Diego...

—Ah, sí, Giselle fue la primera en correr a llamarme, ¿no es así, hermanita? —dice a esta para apretar sus cachetes, dejándolos rojos—. Felicidades. Siempre supe que tú serías el de los pies en la tierra —comenta.

El señor Rubén suelta una carcajada.

—¡Ven! Es un genio este muchacho. Lo dice porque él está en el cielo en su avión y Danilo en la empresa...

La familia no se tarda en reír pero yo no le veo nada de gracioso. Y Diego me regala una mirada fija ante mi rostro neutro.

—¡Bueno! —exclama mi novio, y se levanta de repente unido aún a mi mano—. Si estarás aquí por un buen rato, tendremos tiempo para seguir celebrando. Fabiola y yo tenemos un compromiso...

Miro con sorpresa a mi novio y luego recuerdo la celebración del matrimonio de Aitana. Entonces exhalo la presión porque con todo este asunto de Diego se me había olvidado. Agradezco tener una oportunidad de huir.

—¡Ohhh nooo! —exclama la señora Daniela.

—¡No seas aguafiestas! —se une Giselle.

—¿Y a dónde tienen que ir? —cuestiona Diego, viendo a mi novio.

—¡A la celebración de una boda!

—¿De quién...? —sigue cuestionando Diego, y me irrita esto.

—De una de mis clientas y amigas, se llama Aitana —respondo.

—¡La influencer! —exclama Giselle emocionada—. Vi sus fotos de la boda hace unos horas, Fabiola ¡te quedó espectacular su maquillaje!

—¿Así que a eso te dedicas, maquillas? —pregunta el castaño, y no puedo más que asentir—. Bueno, supongo que no hay problema con vaya también... Además, creo que conozco a Aitana... ¡tiene un par de amigas morochas que están...!

Sacudo la cabeza con severidad por la picardía y perversión en su voz.

—¿Las morochas? —cuestiona el señor Rubén—. ¿Las hermanas Newton?

—¿Son físicas o algo así? —cuestiono en una risita, pero nerviosa, pues no las conozco.

—No. Bueno, son dueñas de la física, eso sí... —bromea el castaño y señala a mi novio, por lo que este baja la mirada luciendo sonrojado de repente—. Seguro que las conoces muy bien, ¿o no, Danilo?

Suelto la mano de mi novio y espero su respuesta, nunca llega.

—Déjalo en paz, hijo. Y respeta a Fabiola —le dice Daniela.

Diego deja de reír, y sabiendo que no debo perder el control ni mucho menos lucir como una loca celosa, vuelvo a tomar la mano de mi rubio.

—¡Pues vamos! Y Giselle, ¿quieres venir? —le cuestiono.

—¡Quien dijo miedo! —exclama la castaña.

En cuestión de minutos nos despedimos, vamos hacia el auto de mi novio, y como es costumbre, me dispongo a subir en el asiento del copiloto, pero Diego me regala una sonrisa malvada antes de abrir la puerta y se adentra.

Respiro hondo, y me adentro con los brazos cruzados en los asientos traseros. El camino es bastante tedioso, con Diego metido en sus redes enseñándole a Danilo todas las tipas de las que comió hace poco allá en Europa, con Giselle diciéndole que es un cerdo, con la mirada de Danilo puesta cada cierto tiempo en mí desde el retrovisor, y mi piel hirviendo por todas las emociones que me genera la conversación y la presencia del piloto.

Yo lo he olvidado. Ya no es el amor de mi vida. Y estoy comenzando a detestarlo. Debo pasar página. Debo controlarme.  Amo a Danilo.

Me repito eso una y otra vez, como un himno para mi corazón.

Llegamos al club en donde se celebra la boda costosa. Los guardias piden nuestros pases, pero solo tengo el mío, así que maldigo bajito. Rápido tomo mi cartera para sacar mi teléfono y llamar a Aitana.

—¡Brianna! ¡Sheila! —exclama con bulla Diego, y al darme vuelta lo veo abrir los ojos hacia dos mujeres de piel morena, bastante exóticas, que vienen con copas en mano.

—¡No puede seeeeer! —grita la más bajita de ellas—. ¡Diego y Danilo Monsalve!

Así que estas son las morochas...

Las dos corren y se acercan a ambos hombres, casi apartándome pero sigo llamando a Aitana y me siento frustrada por todo. Los escucho conversar algo bajo mientras Giselle intenta convencer a uno de los guardias para dejarnos entrar, y cuando Aitana finalmente responde la llamada, mi cuerpo se echa hacia adelante, producto de un empujón. Entonces mi teléfono cae sobre la acera cortándose la llamada de inmediato.

—¡Ay, perdón! —me dice una de las morenas—. Me llamo Sheila, ¡eres la novia de Danilo! —me dice esta, y me alegra que lo sepa, ¿pero cómo lo sabe?

Le doy mi mano a la morena para presentarme después de que ella me entrega mi teléfono, y esta sonríe ampliamente, mientras la otra solo me sonríe mirándome por encima de su hombro.

—¡Muchachones! —exclama la otra, Brianna—. Estos guapetones y estas chicas vienen en el combo, así que peeeermiiisooo...

Los guardias nos dejan entrar a todos sin problemas y sacudo la cabeza, entonces siento a Danilo a mi lado, me toma de la cintura y besa mi mejilla.

—¿No estás molesta?

—¿Por qué debería estarlo? —inquiero, y este asiente lentamente.

Lentamente es que quisiera escabullirme mientras veo al gran Diego con su porte magnífico y con esa camisa blanca de manga larga, sujetar por la cintura a ambas morenas.

—¡Amiga, sí viniste! ¡Y conociste a las morochas! ¡Qué emoción! —exclama Aitana.

—¡Felicidades, Aitana! ¡Eres hermosa!

—¡Rrrrr! —pronuncia esta llena de éxtasis y todos reímos—. Qué bueno que llegaron justo ahora porque decidí no tirar el ramo en la iglesia, ¡vengan!

Quiero decirle que no voy a participar en esto porque en mis planes no está casarme, pero ella me toma de la mano, y las morochas, Giselle, las  damas de honor y otras mujeres corren hacia el centro de la sala.

Veo a la distancia a mi novio tomar una copa de algún liquido, y sacude la cabeza con una sonrisa cuando me ve aquí metida. Luce pálido y no sé la razón.

—¡Bien, chicas! —habla Aitana desde el micrófono, distanciada de nosotras—. ¡Espero que la que obtenga el ramo pueda ser tan feliz como yo lo soy ahora! ¿Listas? ¡A volar!

Quiero agacharme antes de que Aitana tire el ramo en el aire, sin embargo, no sucede. Pues esta camina desde su sitio en línea recta hasta nosotras con el ramo en la mano, tiene una sonrisa enorme y yo me perturbo cuando me doy cuenta de que me está... ¡Viendo a mí!

Se me eriza la piel y el nudo en mi garganta llega en cuanto Aitana llega hasta mí, me entrega el ramo y cuando busco alguna explicación, veo a Danilo arrodillado frente a mí.

Todo el mundo se conmociona, y yo solo puedo quedarme estática.

—Fabiola, no tengo duda alguna de quiero que seas mi compañera de vida, mucho más allá de que cuando llegue mi jubilación... —dice, y escucho a todos reír—. ¿Te quieres casar conmigo?

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