B-ronken-R-ing 159...

It was like Cárcel's words had shifted something deep within Inés. She cupped his face in her hands, pulling him close, and planted light, tender kisses on his lips. He responded by gently licking and sucking on her lower lip, his nose nuzzling against her cheek. After a moment, however, he drew back slightly to break off the kiss as if a sudden thought had crossed his mind.

"Inés... Does it truly not concern you when we depart?" he asked.

"It doesn't concern me in the least," she responded with ease, her tone unwavering.

For a moment, Cárcel simply breathed against her cheek. Then he whispered, "What did you tell the others before departing Mendoza?"

"My parents believe that my old lung condition has made a sudden return, and that I am currently recovering in Luciano's vacation home. As for House Escalante and the palace..." she trailed off, then shrugged. "Mother concocted some explanation for them, as she always does."

"An explanation?" he echoed, his brow furrowing.

"Yes. She's always detested my flaw, after all," she replied with a wry smile.

Cárcel's frown deepened at her choice of words, which reminded her of just how much he hated hearing her speak of herself that way.

Noticing his reaction, she reached out and playfully rubbed her finger over his lower lip, now moist from their kiss. "I only said it because I knew that she would be mortified if the truth of our circumstances were to be revealed."

His frown remained as he closed his eyes, releasing a soft sigh. "Please... do not ever say that you have a flaw."

"Why? I am far from perfect."

Cárcel shook his head. "No, Inés. Every part of you is perfect."

"Perhaps in your eyes," she retorted with a touch of arrogance, as if to say that she expected nothing less from a lovestruck fool.

He fell silent for a moment before his lips found their way to the curve of her neck. Then, he asked with careful deliberation, Inés, are you truly unwell?"

"No," came her quick response.

She was nearly certain that he remained unaware of how she had fallen unconscious on Mercedes Street. She had ensured that Juana and Alfonso would keep it a secret, even from Raúl. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if Cárcel had discovered anything from the correspondence with Luciano preceding the Formente competition, but she quickly dismissed the thought. Her brother had been terrified that her fainting spell signaled the return of her "condition" from the past. It was highly improbable that he had suddenly decided to share his concerns with Cárcel.

As Inés gathered her train of thoughts, Cárcel's lips began their slow ascent along her neck, eventually caressing the line of her chin. A tremor coursed through her, and she instinctively tilted her head back, offering more of herself. "You look peaked," he whispered, his voice laced with concern.

"What else did you expect?" she managed to reply. "Mendoza is nothing like Calztela. Yolanda isn't there to prepare my meals, nor is Arondra to bring me food..." Her words faded into a soft moan as his tongue grazed the delicate skin beneath her chin.

"And you do not have me."

"Indeed. There's no one to insist on feeding me at every turn..."

His lips traced a path back to hers, pausing for a quick kiss before teasing the tip of her nose with a gentle bite. "I understand, but still... You have grown too thin."

"Are you implying that you find it displeasing?" she asked, her voice tinged with playful defiance.

He shook his head with haste. "Never. But it grieves me. My heart weeps when I look at you."

For a moment, his words seemed to take on a different, heavier meaning she couldn't quite grasp, a sorrow that went beyond mere concern. She frowned, silently studying his blue eyes that were still shimmering with unshed tears. Suddenly, she found herself hoping he would avoid her eyes, as he had earlier. That had been far more bearable than whatever he was doing now.

After a pause, she said, "I hardly think I've lost enough weight to cause you such distress."

He brushed his lips against the corner of her mouth, hesitating as if something terrible would happen if he ventured further. "I... I fear that I might break you, that I might bring you pain." His voice carried a strange note of sadness, and his breath felt hot against her skin.

Inés blinked, gazing at him with unwavering trust. "But you could never hurt me," she said, as though he had suggested something utterly improbable.

She tried to imagine the fear that plagued him and the night an assassin had invaded their bedroom-a "secret" that he would likely take to his grave. As she recalled the events leading up to that dreadful night and the days that followed, she reached out to stroke his forehead, wondering how he could ever believe himself capable of causing her harm. The depth of his concern sent a pang through her heart.

At that moment, a memory surfaced in her mind. It felt foreign yet oddly familiar. She could see Cárcel seated before her, his expression filled with unspoken sorrow.

"Will you pray for me, Inés?" he whispered.

She heard herself respond, "Must I?"

"No, not if it burdens you. But if your heart ever allows it... will you spare me a thought every once in a while?" His eyes were an unreadable sea of emotions.

"And what about the prayer?"

"I already pray enough for both of us."

"How dreary," she remarked.

"Forgive me. I shall try harder next time," he replied with a rueful smile.

Inés realized that she had been holding her breath, and her chest heaved as she began to take air into her lungs.

She could still see Cárcel in her mind's eye, his eyes closed as he confessed, "I always pray that I may return home... so that I can see you again."

Cárcel-the one whose touch she could feel-regarded her with concern in his eyes. "Inés...?"

Although she could hear his words clearly, they seemed to blend with those of the memory, creating a disorienting echo in her mind. In her head, she had seen Cárcel sitting in this very room, looking at her with the same face, but something about the scene had been... different. She blinked rapidly, trying to focus on the present, but each time, she could see the faint image of another room-almost identical to the one she was in now, yet subtly different, as though it belonged to another time. The weight of the memory pressed down on her, and the uncomfortable gaze from her memory lingered in her mind's eye.

"Inés?" Cárcel asked again, his voice edged with growing alarm. "I knew something was wrong, Are you-"

"No, no, Cárcel. This is not...I..." Her hands trembled as she reached out to cup his cheeks, trying to anchor herself in the present.

The voice from the memory continued to whisper inside her head, "I have always longed for you, Inés... and I will continue to, even if you never return those feelings. But... I wonder if you will miss me some day, just once. That might be more than enough to carry me back home..."

No! I never... Her heart raced, a wave of guilt crashing over her. Desperate to silence the voice in her head, Inés wrapped her hands around Cárcel's neck and pulled him closer until their lips met in a fervent kiss. Their breaths intertwined, and she sought solace in the rhythm of his breath. His tongue sought entry, and she let him in without hesitation, drowning out the haunting echoes of another lifetime. Cárcel's presence became the sole thread that tethered her to reality.

But even as she clung to Cárcel like her very soul depended on it, she couldn't escape the pang of guilt and shame that "he" had aroused within her. The weight of it was overwhelming, almost suffocating.

"Return to Esposa," the voice from her memory insisted, a plea tinged with fear and urgency.

"But it was you who brought me here in the first place."

"I know...and I am sorry. But Calztela is no longer safe, Inés. It would pain me to leave you here alone when you are unwell."

"If you fear so much that you will find me dead upon your return, tell them you will not go to war-"

"Do not ever say such dreadful words, Inés. You are not going to die."

She had scoffed at him, her voice dripping with bitterness. "It will happen, and you know it. I don't know why you continue to delude yourself..."

"Please... listen to me." His eyes, brimming with desperation, pleaded with her. "I go only because I am certain that you will live on. I fight to protect the land that sustains you. I may not return this time, Inés. I have entrusted Captain Noriega with your care. He will reach out to you if our forces begin to falter. Promise me that you will go to Esposa immediately if such a thing happens."

Back in the present, Inés recalled the moment of her first death with a clarity that pierced her heart-lying alone in that empty room as life faded from her body. Only now, she realized that she had regretted letting him leave until the moment she died. Her heart ached with the weight of unspoken words. Oh... I should have begged you to stay with me. I wish I told you that I would miss you dearly...then perhaps you wouldn't have left with such a heavy heart.

Desperation seized her, and she kissed him with the frantic intensity of someone clinging to the last vestiges of life. Her lips sought proof, anything to assure her that they were both still alive, that this moment was real. A fleeting sense of relief washed over her at the warmth of his touch, but an inevitable anxiety found her only moments later. A deep-seated fear whispered to her that she would open her eyes to find herself back in that empty room, dying all alone-that everything was over, and nothing she did could change their fate.

"Let's linger here a while longer... a week, no, ten more days," she whispered against his lips. Sliding the Bible away from his hand, she laced her fingers with his and began to plant soft kisses along his palm and fingertips. "I want a child, Cárcel."

His fingers tightened around hers, and he gazed at her with a mixture of surprise and concern.

"Inés... If this is just an attempt to stir my desire..."

"I speak from the heart," she insisted. I don't know how much time remains for us. This life may offer a different ending, or it may lead us to the same tragic fate... I'm so terrified, Cárcel. Please... Inés suppressed the torrent of words that threatened to bubble out of her throat and pleaded softly, "Take me."

Cárcel placed a lingering kiss on her lips and lifted her into his arms. He carried her to the chaise by the window, setting her down with the utmost care. Slowly, he began to unbutton her blouse from the collar down. A radiant smile spread across her face as she felt his breath tickle her face, and he returned the gesture with a warmth that melted the last remnants of her fear. I love it when you smile at me, Cárcel... do not cry. As her blouse fell open to reveal her bare skin, he bent down and planted sweet kisses on her chest.

"Cárcel," she murmured, her voice barely above a breath.

"Yes, Inés," he replied, his lips still moving gently against her skin.

She gazed down at him with earnest eyes. "I care for you... I truly do."

"I know."

"I always pray for your safety," she continued, her words carrying the weight of a confession.

His lips, which had been exploring the softness of her breasts, suddenly came to a pause, and she felt the muscles of his back tighten beneath her touch.

She stroked his back tenderly and leaned closer to whisper, "I have been praying for your health of late. Promise me you will not allow harm to befall you."

"I shall not."

"Nor let any illness lay its claim upon you."

"I promise, Inés."

Her fingers wove through his hair as she whispered, "Remember that I am always praying for you, wherever you are."

Slowly, he lifted his head to meet her gaze. For a long moment, they only stared at each other in silence.

Then he released a soft, shaky chuckle and ran a hand over his face. She could no longer see his expression clearly, but she could hear the tremor in his voice. "Inés..." he said, his voice catching in his throat. "How am I supposed to find arousal when I'm crying?"

Her smile widened. "I have no doubt you will manage," she whispered, pulling him closer and playfully rubbing her knee against his groin.