ˋ°•*⁀➷In Mijas, Spain, Carlos Martinez and Viola Lopez were childhood rivals, always at each other's throats-whether it was over grades, sports, or just who could outdo the other. Their competitive fire was unmatched, but after graduation, their pat...
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The warm, inviting kitchen of Valentina and Mateo's home was filled with the rich scent of vanilla, butter, and spices. The sun streamed through the large windows, casting a golden glow on the wooden countertops and the various bowls and utensils spread out. Viola Lopez was in her element, her hands expertly piping icing onto a batch of freshly baked cupcakes. Her mother, Meera Lopez, had called her the night before, excitedly sharing a new recipe she had come up with back in India. Meera, one of the kindest and most nurturing women Viola had ever known, had always been a source of inspiration and strength for her.
Meera's story was one of determination and love. She had earned a scholarship to study in Spain when she was young, where she met Javier Lopez, the man who would become her husband. After marriage, they moved to Mijas, the town where they first met and fell in love with. Their love story was one for the ages, a blend of cultures and hearts. They had Viola when they were 23, just a year after their good friends, Camila and Antonio Martinez, had Carlos. Viola and Carlos had been in each other's presence since birth, their competitive spirits clashing and yet complementing each other. Javier and Meera adored their only daughter, working hard to provide her with a bright future, and instilling in her a deep love for both Spanish and Indian cultures.
But life had dealt a harsh blow five years ago when a drunk driver run Javier over when he was returning home. The loss had been devastating for Viola and her mother, plunging them into a darkness they had never known. Viola had spiraled into depression, barely able to function, until they both sought professional help. Juana Rodriguez, a compassionate woman in her 50s, had been their guiding light during that time, helping them heal and find a way forward. Viola had dedicated her bakery, Whisk & Crumbs, to her father, honoring his love for cooking and creating. Javier had come up with the name when Viola was just 15, the two of them laughing at how cliché it sounded, but knowing deep down that it was perfect.
They had sold their family home after Javier's death, and Viola had lived with Valentina until she could afford her own small but beautiful bungalow. Meera had returned to India, unable to bear the memories that Spain held, though she visited Viola often, and Viola would make trips to India as well.
As Viola meticulously iced the cupcakes, Valentina was at the other end of the counter, casually flipping through a bridal magazine. "So, don't forget we have the dress fitting with Lady Mirabella tomorrow," Valentina reminded her, not looking up from the pages.
Viola nodded, focused on getting the icing just right. "Yeah, I remember. I'm just hoping she won't try to convince me to wear something too over-the-top. You know how she is."
Valentina chuckled, knowing full well that Lady Mirabella had a flair for the dramatic. "Oh, I wouldn't bet on it. But I'm sure you'll look stunning no matter what."
Just then, the front door opened, and the sound of Mateo's voice drifted through the house as he entered the kitchen. He had been outside, on the phone for what seemed like an eternity. Viola smirked as she saw him walk in, still looking a bit distracted. "So, who were you talking to for the past thirty minutes, Mr. Torres?" she teased, raising an eyebrow. "Secret affair we should know about?"
