Thirty minutes of exercise ter, with my body covered in sweat, I called it a day on my daily routine. Normally, the session would st a bit longer, but time was pressing—and so was my stomach. I hadn't eaten a single thing since that lonely apple.

  After a casual shower, as I left the gym, my mind wandered through the possible options the nearby restaurant might offer. That was when, just as I was crossing the door, a man appeared—one whose very image seemed to defy reality itself. My first thought: unreal.

  A chiseled face adorned with a stern gaze, always fixed straight ahead. A broad back and arms as thick as tree trunks, reminiscent of a silverback. His arrogant stride completed the picture. It was hard for the first impression not to be: "this guy is a bastard". Intimidating, no doubt—or at least that’s what he was going for. However, his thin legs completely betrayed that image, creating a dissonance that was almost comical.

  I’ve always wondered how those fragile-looking legs manage to support such a massive upper body. Every time I see him, any desire I might have had to build huge muscles vanishes instantly. If I get an itch, I want to be able to scratch my back—something he, clearly, cannot do.

  —Noah "the Inverted Mountain" Sullivan.

  —Fuck off

  —How’s life treating you, man? —Despite Noah’s terrible first impression, once you talked to him, you realized he was actually easy to get along with. He was one of the few people I could genuinely consider a friend.

  —Way better than you, check this out —he replied, flexing his muscles as usual. Unfortunately for him, messing with him was way too fun… and easy.

  —Yeah, yeah, I see it —I said, letting my gaze slowly slide down to his legs.

  —I’m not even gonna bother with your jealous remarks —he shot back, clearly irritated as he caught my mocking stare. I mean, if you don’t want to be teased for something so obvious, at least make an effort to not look like a tree with weak roots.

  —Heading out already?

  —Yeah, I’ve got some social obligations in a bit —I replied, gncing up at the wall clock, which already read 10:10 —By the way, I heard Anthony is waiting for you.

  Anthony, though not as muscur as Noah, was still a pretty built guy, and from what I had heard, the two had arranged one of those strength competitions.

  —He’s just an idiot biting off more than he can chew.

  These kinds of competitions were common at the gym. They served both as a way to settle small disputes before they escated and to keep the atmosphere lively. In fact, they happened so often that we had even set up a betting pool to make some money off a friend’s loss.

  —Of course, man, do your best. Wish I could stay and watch the show, but I’m in a hurry. Have fun!

  Noah stood there, trying to read between the lines as I walked away.

  —You bet against me, didn’t you? —His voice was full of indignation, as if he couldn’t believe I would think he’d lose.

  —I always bet on the safe side —I replied without turning around.

  Unfortunately for him, bets didn’t care about friendships. And yeah, I had bet on his loss—pretty confident it was the right choice. Of course, it was better if he didn’t know that.

  —Son of a bitch, you're gonna lose your money!

  With those words echoing behind me, I left the gym and headed for the nearest café.

  There were still 20 minutes left until the meeting. Fortunately, the park where it would take pce was just across the street. Twenty minutes were more than enough to enjoy a decent breakfast. Besides, considering my fridge always seemed empty, stopping by here had pretty much become a habit.

  A few steps ter, I was already inside that cozy pce that made me feel at home. I sat at my usual table and ordered something light yet filling enough to hold me over until lunch. A Spanish omelet, toast with jam and cheese, and a delicious soursop juice were the chosen ones to complement the lonely apple that, at this point, was already digested.

  To be honest, I was quite satisfied with my ability to manage time. I ate at a leisurely pace, savoring every bite, and even allowed myself a few minutes to rest. When I left the café, there were still two minutes left before the meeting—just enough time to cross the street and arrive on time.

  A group of people stood in front of a couple of fshy red vans. Even though I couldn't make out any familiar faces, it was unlikely I was mistaken, so I headed toward them. My eyesight isn’t the best, but the park isn’t very big, and those vans were the only spot where a group had gathered. Still, I walked slowly, trying to avoid the embarrassment of approaching the wrong people.

  A few more steps, and finally, I spotted a familiar figure. It was questionable how I hadn’t noticed her before, considering how striking her hair was. Apparently, she had recognized me from afar, as she waved her hand and approached me with quick steps and a bright smile.

  Carolina. To be honest, she’s a beautiful woman, even to my eyes, which are hardly prone to exaggeration. Her natural strawberry blonde hair cascades in soft waves, with golden and reddish highlights that seem to glow under the sunlight, framing her face perfectly.

  Her eyes, a deep, hypnotic emerald green, reflected a captivating warmth, enhanced by long, dark shes that made her gaze even more intense. Her ivory-toned skin accentuated her high, well-defined cheekbones, adding an air of cssic elegance.

  A faint touch of natural blush highlighted her youth and vitality, while her full lips—a soft shade of pink that perfectly matched the subtle lipstick she wore—curved effortlessly into a dazzling smile that seemed to brighten everything around her.

  Standing at 1.70 meters tall, her slender yet curvy figure blended grace and femininity. Her fluid, confident movements exuded an elegant sensuality and natural sophistication, seamlessly mixed with the lightness and energy characteristic of her 23 years.

  Carolina didn’t just possess a unique physical allure; she also had an innate charisma that made her a source of admiration and desire wherever she went. She was my coworker and, on this occasion, the reason I was here instead of enjoying my well-deserved day off at home.

  —Honestly, I thought you wouldn’t come —she said with a pyful smile, fully aware that I would have preferred to stay home.

  —Good morning, miss. How are you? I’m doing well, thanks for asking. And I must say, I wasn’t expecting to wake up to a call just to confirm my presence. Though, hey, it did make me feel important —I replied, my tone carrying a slight hint of annoyance—a protest against my hectic morning.

  Her smile widened at my response. We stepped closer, closing the already short distance between us, and shared a hug that had become customary whenever we met.

  —Sorry, we need extra hands —she murmured near my ear, in that tone she always used to charm me.

  Several seconds passed before we pulled away. She turned toward the group while taking my hand.

  —Come on, Adony is about to finish his speech.

  With nothing else to do, I let out a sigh of resignation, preparing my mind for the day ahead.

  —I just hope there are at least some snacks.

  Silence was enough of an answer. I couldn’t help but think that having breakfast before coming had been a very good idea.

  The speech was almost over, but I think I caught the main idea: providing direct assistance to homeless people and their pets by offering them vaccines and food. Additionally, we would try to rescue animals and take them to a veterinary center where they could find a home.

  Nothing out of the ordinary so far, so it seemed strange to me that they needed so many extra hands. However, my doubts quickly faded. Instead of waiting for people to approach the van for help, we would be the ones carrying the supplies directly to them. In short, we’d be walking through several streets, hauling supplies, delivering them, then returning to the van to repeat the cycle.

  It was an impractical strategy. The justification they gave us for this excessive waste of energy was that, besides handing out aid kits, we would also be providing “human warmth.”

  I admit I’m not the most charitable person, but this, without a doubt, seemed like utter nonsense.

  The organizer’s expnation was long, filled with arguments that were supposed to justify the decision, but judging by the expressions of some people nearby, it was clear I wasn’t the only one who thought it was absurd.

  After the speech, we split into small groups. My partner, with his sociable personality, made up for my obvious ck of enthusiasm. To be honest, I wasn’t the only one eager to finish quickly, and perhaps that’s why the supplies ran out in record time—just like our energy.

  It’s not that I disliked helping others or street animals; in fact, there was something satisfying in knowing that, even if little or nothing changed in the grand scheme of things, at least some people and their pets would go to sleep with a full stomach that night. I also hoped the rescued animals would find a good home.

  However, that didn’t erase the exhaustion accumuted after walking for four hours under the relentless heat. When everything was finally over, the only thing I wanted was to go home, take a shower, and let my poor bones rest.

  Sure, I could have adopted one of those little animals, but the scar of having buried my first pet when it was just a puppy still lingers in my heart. It was an event that irrevocably shaped my childhood, and even now, the fear of experiencing such a loss again keeps me from having another pet.

  —How do you feel? It was fun, wasn’t it?

  There was no need to be a mind reader to know who had interrupted my thoughts. After all, I only knew one person in this group.

  —I can’t agree with that statement. I think you and I have very different definitions of the word ‘fun.’

  —You’ll get used to it over time —Carolina replied with that ever-present smile, one that didn’t seem to fade even though she was just as exhausted as the rest of us.

  Once again, it was a statement I couldn’t agree with. I mean, this probably wouldn’t be the st time I participated in an activity like this, but I had no intention of making it a routine either.

  Unaware of my thoughts, Carolina sat beside me under the shade of one of the few trees in the park. She gently rested her head on my shoulder, and her body heat seeped through the fabric of my shirt, raising my temperature. When she spoke, her voice took on a soft, almost mencholic tone, as if the topic was particurly delicate.

  —Did you talk to your mother?

  A sudden change of subject, but I nodded, recalling the conversation I’d had with that woman.

  —Yes, I talked to her.

  —And what happened?

  —Nothing in particur —I replied, trying to summarize that long conversation —I don’t hold any resentment toward her. I suppose, at the time, she had her reasons for doing what she did, and that’s fine. But I think it’s a little too te for her to try to take on the role of a mother. I already buried my mother.

  My words hung in the air as I remembered the woman who had raised me. Even though she wasn’t my biological mother, she gave me all the love I needed to grow up happy. As for my father… well, I have no idea who he is; I never met him either.

  At first, I actually thought she was the mother of one of my parents. The age gap between us was 62 years, which fueled my suspicions. Besides, kids can be cruel, and I remember my childhood friends constantly asking me about my parents. That curiosity only fed my doubts, but despite my young age, something inside me told me not to ask—so I didn’t.

  When I was fifteen, my mother, on her own initiative, decided to confess that we had no blood ties. It was a shocking revetion, as well as a hard blow to my emotions.

  One day, when she opened her door, she found me there—either asleep or unconscious, malnourished, sick, wrapped in a bnket. She had no idea who my real parents were either. At first, she tried to find them, but after turning up nothing, she gave up and decided to take me in as her son.

  Learning that she wasn’t my biological mother or that I had been abandoned wasn’t all that surprising, but I did suffer an emotional slump upon realizing we shared no blood connection. At the time, I was a naive teenager, and knowing that the only person I cherished—my only family—wasn’t actually reted to me shattered me.

  I spent several days drowning in that sense of loss. However, eventually, I realized it didn’t matter. It was an obvious conclusion, but back then, it took me time to accept it. Instead of weakening, our mother-son bond grew even stronger. From that moment on, I started to deeply appreciate that woman who, without any obligation, had given me so much love.

  Two years after that confession, she passed away, and I was left completely alone. I never knew if she had children, siblings, or any other retives. The few times I asked about it, she always dodged the question, so I stopped insisting—I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable with what might have been a sensitive topic. In any case, when the time came for her funeral, no one showed up.

  Only a couple of neighbors attended, more out of obligation than anything else. I was the only one truly there for her. My emotions were in chaos; I didn’t know how to react or what to do. My entire world revolved around her, and I had never even considered the possibility that she might die.

  That was the only time I ever missed the woman I never knew—my biological mother. My mom had left me enough money to live comfortably for a couple of years without doing anything, so finances weren’t a concern. But at that moment, what I really needed was emotional support. I wanted to belong somewhere again. I didn’t want to be alone.

  In the end, I managed to pull myself out of that spiral of uncertainty and sorrow thanks to my mother’s teachings. She had given me the tools to face life. Even so, I wish I had had someone to share the weight of loneliness with.

  But life is strange, and two weeks ago, Vera appeared along with her daughter, Mi. She introduced herself as my mother, as if a simple apology and an empty desire to "make up for lost time" could erase my entire past.

  —Are you okay?

  I don’t know what expression I had at that moment, but Carolina must have read something in my face because, after a brief silence, she pulled me into a warm hug.

  —Yeah, I’m fine —I replied after taking a moment to breathe and organize my thoughts —I just don’t understand why she’s reaching out now when her ck of interest is so obvious. Does she not care about what I feel?

  Maybe my perception is clouded by my emotions, but that’s the impression this woman gives me—like she’s doing something she doesn’t really want to do.

  —And what does your sister think?

  Young Mi… I think she might be the real reason Vera decided to reach out to me. She was the most enthusiastic one in that awkward restaurant.

  —I think her desire for us to be a family is genuine, but I find it hard to just accept it. She called me yesterday and said she’s organizing a dinner at her house tomorrow so we can talk more calmly.

  I had already thought about it, and I came to a conclusion—this is what makes me uncomfortable: they seem to be telling me, "now we’re here, let’s be a happy family." It’s as if they’re denying my past, as if they’re erasing the woman who raised me. And that… that makes me angry.

  —I think you should go. I don’t want to seem like I’m trying to meddle in your life or make decisions for you, but maybe you could give them a chance. At least your sister—she’s not responsible for the choices Vera made in the past. Especially if she’s trying so hard, don’t you think?

  I had said I didn’t care, but it was impossible not to feel affected whenever the subject came up. The truth is, I don’t feel any empathy or affection for these women—only irritation. In fact, they could disappear, and I wouldn’t feel a thing.

  —I guess so —I finally replied, though my tone was more resigned than convincing.

  Carolina watched me with evident concern, so I decided to change the subject before she got caught up in something I was trying to downpy.

  —But tell me, how do you do this so often and still have so much energy?

  She’s someone who quickly picks up on people’s moods, and this time was no exception. Her affectionate, mencholic expression shifted into something pyful and mischievous before she responded with her usual teasing tone:

  —Huhuhu, you get used to it over time. I already told you.