Best Mistake ︱Pedri González

8

Luciana's POV

It was one of those nights where I had no energy to do anything productive. I sat on the couch, my feet tucked under me, casually scrolling through my phone. A half-empty bag of crisps lay beside me, and I munched on them, not caring about the crumbs I was leaving behind.

With Dante in Milan for the next two weeks, the apartment felt too quiet. I told myself I enjoyed the alone time, but moments like this—when the silence settled too thickly—made me feel restless. I was just about to switch to a movie when I heard a knock at the door.

My heart jumped a little. Who could it be at this hour?

I set my phone down and stood up, tiptoeing towards the door. Instinctively, I peeked through the peephole, and my breath hitched in my throat. Pedri. Why was he here?

A mix of emotions surged through me. I hesitated for a second, unsure of what to do. My first instinct was to hide—suddenly aware of how messy I looked in my oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. Without thinking, I quietly darted to the bathroom, trying to make as little noise as possible. My reflection stared back at me, and I quickly ran my fingers through my hair, smoothing it down.

"What am I doing?" I muttered under my breath, feeling ridiculous. Why did it matter how I looked? I had a boyfriend. This was Pedri... but still, a part of me couldn't help but want to look good for him. Old habits, I guess.

I took a deep breath, shaking off the nerves, and went back to the door. Slowly, I opened it, revealing Pedri standing there. He looked conflicted, his eyes tired and worn.

"Pedri?" I asked softly, my voice betraying my surprise.

"Hey," he said, voice strained. He ran a hand through his hair, looking more defeated than I'd ever seen him. "I—uh—can I come in?"

I nodded, stepping aside to let him pass. The air between us felt thick, charged with something unspoken. He moved past me, into the living room, and I closed the door behind him.

He sat down on the edge of the couch, hands clasped tightly together. I could tell something was wrong.

"I'm sorry for showing up like this," Pedri began, his voice low. "I just... I had another fight with Esther." He let out a deep breath, like he'd been holding it in for a while. "It was bad. I don't even know how we got to this point."

I sat next to him, not too close, but close enough to feel the warmth of his presence. "What happened?"

He looked at me, his eyes filled with a vulnerability I hadn't seen in a long time. "She keeps flirting with everyone. Like it's nothing. And I'm just—" He paused, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. "I told her that she's married to me, and she can't keep doing this."

I didn't know what to say. My heart ached for him, but also, there was this tension between us, something that had never really gone away. I'd tried to bury my feelings, tried to move on with Dante, but seeing Pedri here, like this, reminded me of everything we used to be.

In the middle of his words, something snapped in me. Without thinking, I leaned forward, pressing my lips against his. It was impulsive, reckless—but it felt inevitable. He hesitated for a moment, surprised, but then his hands found my waist, pulling me closer.

Everything after that became a blur. The kiss deepened, and before I could think about the consequences, one thing led to another. We stumbled towards the bedroom, his hands exploring my body like he'd missed it, like he was rediscovering every part of me.

I should've stopped. I knew this was wrong—I had Dante, and he had Esther. But in that moment, it was just us. The world outside disappeared.

Just as things were heating up, Pedri paused, fumbling with a condom. My heart raced as I sat up, reality crashing down on me. "This is a bad idea," I whispered, my voice trembling.