Alternative History - Chapter 1 - Iguaçu Falls

In the Previous Chapter:

Lucia, a nineteen-year-old girl from San Ignacio, came to Buenos Aires to pursue her dream of becoming a model. After escaping from a dishonest agency, she found work at Tavo and Kuka's company, where she was initially hired as a cleaner. From the very beginning, Tavo saw something more in her and decided to help her start a career as a model.

Lucia became involved with the photographer Federico, although they had very different expectations of their relationship. She dreamed of love and wanted to get to know a person well before becoming intimate with them, while Federico had no intention of being faithful to her.

Meanwhile, after years of hiding their feelings for each other, Kuka and Tavo finally grew closer. But their happiness did not last long. Daniela, claiming to be Kuka's long-lost daughter, accused Tavo of trying to seduce her, ultimately causing their relationship to fall apart.

Trying to forget Kuka, Tavo became involved with Cecilia, an interior designer who was renovating the house that had once been intended for him and Kuka.

Alternative History - Chapter 1 - Iguaçu Falls

Choosing Luca for the ad

That morning, the agency was shrouded in the kind of tense silence that precedes the announcement of exam results. The air was filled with the mingled scents of coffee, perfume and the nerves that no one was willing to admit to. Scattered across the waiting area, the girls tried to look relaxed, but every few moments, someone would smooth their hair, tap an impatient foot or fidget with their fingers.

Lucia sat slightly apart from the others, cradling a mug of tea between her hands. She appeared calm — almost unnaturally so — but only on the surface. Inside, the knot in her stomach tightened with every passing minute. Over the last few days, she had tried to convince herself that whatever the client's decision, everything would be fine; that simply making it to the audition was a victory in itself.

But the truth was much simpler — and far more painful.

She wanted this job more than she cared to admit.

Across from her, one of the models was quietly reminiscing about a previous campaign, while another laughed nervously at an unremarkable joke. The conversations never lasted long. Everyone was waiting for the same thing.

Kuka stood by the window with her arms folded across her chest. Elegant and impeccably composed, she appeared to be someone who was already aware of the outcome and had no intention of concerning herself with anyone else's emotions. Every now and then, she glanced towards Tavo's office, her irritation at the drawn-out phone call becoming harder to hide.

Through the glass, his silhouette was visible. He paced slowly across the room, listening to the client and responding in his usual calm, measured tone. From this distance, it was impossible to hear his words, but the way he carried himself spoke of complete concentration.

Without realising it, Lucia found herself watching him for longer than she should have.

She liked that he never seemed flustered. Even now, with such an important contract at stake, he carried himself as though he had everything under control. It was reassuring.

And dangerous.

The safer she felt around him, the more she found herself caring about what he thought of her.

The office door swung open without warning.

Conversations died down almost instantly.

Tavo stepped into the reception area, his gaze drifting across every face — tense and expectant. For a moment, it seemed as though he was deliberately drawing out the moment.

"The client has made their decision," he said evenly.

Lucia's heart lurched. One of the girls straightened in her chair. Someone let out the breath they had been holding.

Tavo looked directly at Lucia.

"They chose you."

For a moment, Lucia thought she'd misheard him.

"Really?" she breathed, the word escaping before she could stop it.

A faint smile touched his lips.

"Really."

The tension shattered all at once.

The girls crowded around her, offering their congratulations and nearly talking over one another. One slipped an arm around her shoulders and another laughed, insisting that she had known from the very beginning that Lucia would get it. Someone clapped enthusiastically.

Relief swept through Lucia so suddenly that she felt light-headed. She laughed with them, trying to hide just how happy she was. Only moments earlier, she had been bracing herself for disappointment.

Now, everything seemed brighter. Lighter. Looking at Tavo, she had the unmistakable feeling, if only for a moment, that he was almost as happy as she was.

Not everyone shared that excitement, though.

"This is ridiculous."

Kuka's voice cut cleanly through the room. The celebration faded almost at once.

She pulled herself away from the window and walked towards them. Her expression remained perfectly controlled, but there was a hint of sharpness in her eyes, a sense of something tightly restrained.

"I don't think the client understands how this business works," she said coolly. "Lucia has virtually no experience."

The joy inside Lucia collapsed into a small, uncertain knot beneath her ribs. Only seconds ago, she had simply been happy.

Now, however, she felt like the inexperienced girl who still had to prove her worth.

Several of the models exchanged uneasy glances. Tavo didn't move.

"The client saw every single candidate," he said calmly. "And they chose her."

"Because she's new," Kuka retorted, unable to hide the trace of contempt in her voice. "A fresh face always makes an impression — for a while."

Tavo rested both hands on the edge of the desk.

"No."

This time, his voice was unmistakably firmer.

"They chose her because she's the right person for this campaign."

Silence settled over the room. Lucia looked at him in surprise. It wasn't only what he had said. It was also the way he said it: without hesitation or trying to soften the blow; as though it was simply an undeniable fact to him.

Kuka narrowed her eyes.

"You're gambling a major campaign on a girl with no experience."

"I'm gambling?" Tavo lifted an eyebrow. "No. I'm making the decision the client asked for."

For a long moment, neither of them looked away. Their eyes locked in a silent confrontation that seemed to weigh down the entire room. Lucia could almost feel the tension between them. It was so intense that it felt as if everyone had stopped breathing, waiting to see who would look away first.

Kuka was the one who finally broke eye contact. She let out a quiet, cool sigh.

"I hope you're right."

She turned and walked away, ending the argument because she knew she wasn't going to win.

Only then did the room slowly begin to breathe again. One of the girls congratulated Lucia again. Someone joked that they should celebrate after work.

But Lucia's heart was still racing. She was no longer sure whether this was because she had won the campaign. Or because of the way Tavo had stood up for her.

Tavo believes in Lucia more than she believes in herself

Gradually, the office emptied until only a few sounds remained: the soft clink of a coffee cup being placed in the sink, the steady hum of the air conditioning and the distant chime of the lift stopping on the floor below.

Lucia stayed behind long after everyone else had left.

This was partly out of habit — until recently, tidying up had been one of her responsibilities. But mostly because she genuinely wanted to tidy the place up.

But mostly because she wasn't ready to go home and be alone with her thoughts.

She swept the dressing room, pushed the chairs neatly back into place and gathered the scattered campaign printouts into a perfectly ordered stack. These simple, repetitive tasks helped to quiet the chaos in her mind.

Because, as the excitement of the day's announcement slowly faded, something else took its place:

Fear.

Only a few hours earlier, all she had wanted was to be chosen. Now that it had actually happened, however, she could no longer see the opportunity.

All she could see was everything that might go wrong: The cameras. The professional crew. People who knew exactly what they were doing.

And then there was her: a girl with no experience, desperately trying not to look completely out of her depth.

"Kuka was right." This thought kept creeping back, no matter how hard she tried to push it away. Maybe the client had really made a mistake. Maybe Tavo had believed in her a little too much.

Lucia let out a quiet sigh, resting both hands on the desk and closing her eyes for a moment. She felt exhausted, not physically, but emotionally. It was as though the day had slowly stripped away her confidence until only a thin layer of adrenaline remained.

"You're still here?"

She flinched slightly. Turning around, she saw Tavo standing in the doorway of the reception area. He had already taken off his jacket and casually draped it over one shoulder. Without it, he looked less like the agency director and more like an ordinary man.

For some reason, that alone made her feel slightly calmer.

"Someone has to clean up after all of you," she replied, smiling faintly.

His eyes drifted over the room.

"This looks less like cleaning," he said, "and more like you're reorganising the entire office."

A quiet laugh escaped her before she lowered her eyes again. She absentmindedly straightened the pages of the stack of papers she had reached for, even though they were already perfectly aligned.

Tavo noticed immediately. He walked over without haste and stopped beside the desk.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly.

"Nothing."

The answer came too quickly. Leaning against the edge of the desk, he simply looked at her.

He didn't press her. Lucia had begun to notice something dangerously patient about him. He had a way of staying silent for so long that people eventually filled the silence themselves. And that's exactly what happened.

"I don't think I should go," she admitted quietly at last.

The words hung between them, heavier than she had expected. She looked away before she could see his reaction.

"Everyone was celebrating today, but..." She hesitated. "I honestly have no idea what I'm doing, Tavo."

It was the first time she had said his name so naturally. No distance. No formality. Judging by the brief flicker in his eyes, they had both noticed.

"The other girls have experience. They know how to work in front of a camera, where to stand and how a set works." She gave a short, nervous laugh. "I don't even know where I'm supposed to look."

He didn't answer immediately. The silence made her more aware of how vulnerable she had just made herself. She wanted to take it all back, laugh it off and pretend that she was exaggerating.

"Lucia."

She looked up. His voice was calm. Steady.

"Do you know what the client saw?"

She frowned slightly.

"A problem?"

The corner of his mouth lifted in a faint smile.

"You."

That single word prevented her from replying. He stood up straight and took a small step closer.

"They weren't looking for a perfect catalogue model. They were looking for someone who looked natural. Someone real. Someone people would believe."

Lucia tightened her grip on the edge of the desk.

"And what if I can't do it?"

This time, her question came out differently. Quieter. More honest. She wasn't talking about the campaign anymore. She was talking about her fear that everyone would eventually realise that she wasn't nearly as good as they'd hoped.

Tavo studied her carefully, as if searching for the confidence that she could no longer see in herself. Then he reached out and gently took one of the papers from her hand. Only then did she realise that she had been gripping it so tightly that she had nearly crumpled it.

"Breathe," he said softly.

She became aware of the tension locked in her shoulders. He placed the paper back on the desk, and then his hand brushed lightly along her forearm — a brief, reassuring touch that felt more instinctive than deliberate.

"I'm not expecting perfection from you," he said. "No reasonable person is."

She held his gaze. "But?"

A warm smile touched his face. "I believe you'll do just fine."

There was no empty encouragement in his voice. No rehearsed professionalism. He sounded as though he were stating something as obvious as the sky being blue.

It was this that affected her the most. All day long, everyone had been judging whether she was good enough. Tavo, however, behaved as though the question had never even crossed his mind.

A sudden sting burned behind Lucia's eyes. She quickly turned her head, pretending to study the documents spread across the desk.

"That's a little terrifying," she admitted with a quiet laugh.

"What is?"

She looked back at him, offering a small, uncertain smile.

"The fact that you have more faith in me than I do."

He returned the smile, gentle and touched with the fatigue of a long day.

"That's because I get to see you from the outside."

Silence settled between them once more. But this time, it was soft. Comfortable.

Lucia felt the tightness inside her slowly begin to ease. Not completely. The fear was still there. But now it had to share space with something new.

The feeling that maybe... She didn't have to face it alone.

At the airport and fear of flying

The airport in Buenos Aires was noisy in that peculiar way that airports always are, with a constant hum that never truly faded. Footsteps echoed beneath the high ceilings and announcements drifted through the terminals, blending with hurried conversations. Meanwhile, the steady rumble of rolling suitcases provided the soundtrack to the hundreds of people heading in every direction.

Lucia walked slightly behind Tavo, clutching her passport, ticket and travel documents so tightly that she seemed afraid of losing them at any moment. Despite having already memorised the gate number, she glanced down at her boarding pass every few steps.

It was her first time flying.

No matter how hard she tried to appear calm, her stiff stride, quick breathing and constant glances at the enormous departure boards gave her away. Everything felt unfamiliar and almost overwhelming. The people around her moved with effortless confidence, as though flying were no more remarkable than taking a bus.

She, on the other hand, felt as if she had wandered into a world whose rules everyone else already understood.

Tavo walked beside her with his hands in his jacket pockets. The chaos of the airport seemed incapable of disturbing him. Every now and then, he glanced at Lucia out of the corner of his eye, not so much to check on her as to simply watch her.

Simply watching. And somehow, his quiet presence calmed her more than anything else could.

Kuka had stayed behind in Buenos Aires. The decision had been made quickly, with almost no discussion, but Lucia still remembered the cool look Kuka had given her before they left the office. Her absence was impossible to ignore now. It was as though the tension that had hung over them all for the past several days had finally disappeared.

And yet Lucia couldn't quite relax. There was no longer a crowd of models to disappear into. She was the one who had been chosen.

She stopped for a moment at the gate. Through the enormous windows of the terminal, she caught sight of the aeroplane.

Its gleaming metal body looked impossibly large. Too heavy. Far too heavy to ever leave the ground. The thought of sitting inside it in just a few minutes made her chest tighten.

"Everything okay?" Tavo asked.

His voice was calm and matter-of-fact, giving her the space to answer honestly without feeling embarrassed.

She nodded quickly.

"Yes."

Even she could tell that she sounded unconvincing. Tavo said nothing. He didn't tease her or dismiss her anxiety. He simply continued walking beside her, as though his presence alone was enough to show that she didn't have to face it alone.

Once on board, they sat down next to each other.

Lucia fastened her seatbelt and immediately intertwined her fingers. Her fingers moved restlessly, clasping and unclasping repeatedly, while she stared fixedly at the seat in front of her, trying to focus on anything at all.

The knot in her stomach only grew tighter inside. When the aircraft began to taxi, her breathing became shallower and shallower. Every sound seemed magnified: the rumbling of the engines beneath them, the overhead bins clicking shut and the sharp snap of seat belts fastening.

She tried to act normally. But little by little, her body stopped listening.

Tavo noticed immediately. For a moment, he did nothing, as though giving her the chance to steady herself. However, when she tightened her grip even further, he quietly moved his own hand and rested it gently on her forearm.

The pressure was gentle. Steady. Nothing demonstrative. It was nothing that would draw the attention of the other passengers.

It felt less like a touch... It felt more like reassurance.

Lucia gave the slightest start. For a moment, she was only aware of the warmth of his hand and how suddenly it had become easier to breathe. She couldn't explain why such a simple gesture had soothed her so completely. Perhaps it was because, since the start of the trip, Tavo had been the only person around whom she had never felt judged.

She didn't pull away. After a few moments, the tension in her shoulders eased slightly. Her breathing was still uneven, but it was no longer catching in her chest. Just as quietly as he had reached for her, Tavo withdrew his hand. It was as though he didn't want to embarrass her by letting her know he'd noticed how frightened she was.

At last, the plane lifted off the runway. Instinctively, Lucia squeezed her eyes shut for a few seconds before cautiously looking out of the window. Buenos Aires slowly drifted away beneath them. The city lights shrank into tiny constellations scattered across the darkness.

Gradually, the flight settled into a smooth rhythm. The engines hummed steadily and the movement of the aircraft no longer felt unfamiliar or threatening.

"So..." Tavo said after a while. "Feeling a little better?"

He kept his eyes forward, speaking as though they were having an ordinary conversation instead of discussing her fear. Lucia slowly let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding.

"Yeah..." she replied, giving him a small, nervous smile. "At least my ears have stopped ringing."

She hesitated.

"But... I have to admit, I'm still a little scared."

The confession embarrassed her far more than it should have done. It was as though grown-ups weren't supposed to be afraid of something as ordinary as flying.

Tavo glanced at her.

"I was scared the first time I flew, too," he said after a moment. "I was seven. My parents took me to Europe."

Lucia raised her eyebrows in surprise. In her mind, Tavo was the kind of person who always knew exactly what they were doing. The kind who never looked lost.

"You were just a kid," she said quietly. "I'm an adult, and I'm still scared."

There was a sense of helplessness in her voice, as though she were apologising for being afraid. Tavo was silent for a moment before leaning back comfortably in his seat.

"Being an adult has nothing to do with it," he said simply.

Lucia looked at him for a long moment. Such an ordinary sentence. And yet, something inside her softened. It was as though he had given her permission to stop pretending to be braver than she really was. A little later, he glanced at her again, his tone turning practical.

"Did you have breakfast this morning?"

She blinked, pulled out of her thoughts.

"No... I'm not hungry."

The truth was that her stomach had been in knots since dawn. The idea of eating had seemed impossible.

"Maybe you should try something?" he suggested gently. "The food's actually pretty good."

Lucia pulled a face.

"I'd rather not... It must be expensive."

The words slipped out before she could stop them. A second later, embarrassment washed over her. For other people, things like this were obvious. For her, they weren't.

Tavo let out a quiet chuckle that sounded more surprised than amused.

"Lunch is included with the ticket."

Her eyes drifted towards the flight attendant's trolley as it rolled past.

"Oh..."

She lowered her gaze.

"I didn't know."

Warmth flooded her cheeks.

"I feel so stupid."

She turned towards the window, wishing she could hide from her embarrassment. Everything around him seemed to reveal just how different their worlds really were.

For a while, she said nothing. Then, almost in a whisper, she spoke again.

"Can I ask you something?"

He looked at her.

"Just... please don't tell anyone how many mistakes I make."

It wasn't really about the plane. Or breakfast. It was about everything. 

It was about not knowing the rules of this world.

It was about being afraid of saying the wrong thing.

It was about constantly feeling like a girl who had somehow wandered into the wrong place.

Tavo looked at her thoughtfully. He remained silent for a moment, as though he wanted to understand exactly how much courage it had taken her to ask that question.

Then his expression softened.

"I promise," he said quietly. "It stays between us."

Lucia looked at him for a long moment. For the first time since they stepped into the airport, she began to relax.

As though, with him, it was all right to not know something. To be afraid. To make mistakes. And somehow... The world wouldn't fall apart because of it.

A hotel like from a fairy tale

The Hotel Iguazú seemed to be a place that didn't quite belong in the real world.

The moment Lucia stepped inside, she slowed her pace.

The soaring lobby was bathed in warm, golden light that shimmered across the polished marble floors and elegant brass accents. Huge vases were filled to the brim with fresh flowers in vivid colours, and the air carried the subtle scent of something expensive and refined — a blend of perfume, polished wood and cool air conditioning. Everything felt too serene and meticulously perfect, as though even the silence had been carefully designed.

The reception area resembled the lounge of a luxury estate more than a hotel check-in desk. The staff moved almost soundlessly with the effortless grace of people accustomed to serving a world that Lucia had never imagined herself being part of.

That was what struck her most.

Not the luxury itself. But the realisation that everyone around her looked as though they belonged there.

She felt as though she had accidentally wandered into someone else's life. She stopped just inside the entrance.

The suitcase in her hand suddenly seemed painfully ordinary. Too small. Too cheap. Too... hers. In a place where everything else appeared flawless.

She fought the urge to adjust her clothes or smooth her hair — anything at all. She knew the problem wasn't how she looked, though. It was the uncomfortable feeling beneath her skin that someone would look at her and instantly know that she didn't belong.

"This place..." she murmured quietly.

"It's like a palace."

She was speaking more to herself than to Tavo. There was genuine wonder in her voice. But underneath lay something far more fragile: the uncertainty of being farther from home than she had ever been before.

Tavo stood beside her, holding his phone in one hand and the registration documents in the other. He barely glanced around the lobby. It was as though places like this had stopped impressing him years ago.

Then again, perhaps he had simply become so accustomed to them that he no longer noticed them.

"It's just a hotel," he said calmly.

Lucia turned towards him almost instinctively. For a moment, she stared at him in open disbelief.

"Not to me." She said it softly, without resentment. It sounded more like an honest confession than a complaint.

Only then did Tavo really look at her. His gaze lingered a fraction longer than usual.

Suddenly, Lucia felt strangely exposed. It was as though he could see not only her amazement, but also all the anxiety she had been trying so hard to hide behind her composed expression.

"Everything about this is new for you," he said at last. There was no judgement in his voice. No condescension. Only the quiet acknowledgement of something that had always seemed obvious to him.

Lucia lowered her eyes. Once again, she tightened her grip on the handle of her suitcase. She felt the familiar tension returning to her shoulders. It was the same tension that always surfaced whenever she compared herself to the people around her. The experienced models. The businesspeople. Tavo.

They all looked as though they belonged in this world effortlessly. She felt as though a single careless word might reveal her true origins.

"I feel a little..." she said softly. "Out of place."

The moment the words left her lips, she regretted saying them. Saying them aloud somehow made them real. It was as though she had admitted that she hadn't earned the right to be there.

For a moment, Tavo said nothing.

She had already begun to think she had said too much when he gently took the suitcase from her hand instead of answering. She looked up at him in surprise. The movement was simple. Natural.

There was no ceremony or exaggerated politeness — the kind that sometimes embarrassed a person more than it helped. It was as though he'd done it without even thinking.

He put the suitcase down next to her, close enough for her to take it again easily. Yet somehow, the gesture itself seemed to give her permission to breathe.

It was only then that Lucia realised how tightly she had been gripping the handle. Her fingers actually hurt.

Tavo looked at her again. This time, more quietly. More carefully.

"You're exactly where you're supposed to be."

He didn't hesitate. He wasn't trying to comfort her. He simply stated an undeniable fact.

Lucia raised her eyes. And for one brief moment... She truly wanted to believe him.

The lobby was quiet. Only the echo of distant footsteps across the marble floor could be heard, accompanied by the gentle hum of the air conditioning and muted conversations drifting from the restaurant somewhere beyond.

But another kind of silence had settled between them. A softer one. A peaceful one. It was as though the whole world had slowed down for a few precious seconds.

Lucia didn't answer. She simply looked at him a little longer, trying to understand why all those fears inside her seemed to lose their voice whenever he was near.

Her breathing gradually steadied. The tension that had clung to her ever since the airport finally began to ease. If only a little... to let go.

Iguacu Falls

The film crew moved across the set like a well-oiled machine.

The lighting technicians adjusted their equipment, the cameraman checked shot after shot, and someone fine-tuned a tripod while another person hurried between stations, carrying coils of cable. Instructions were exchanged in Spanish and Portuguese, yet everything unfolded with remarkable ease, as though everyone instinctively knew exactly where they were supposed to be.

In the background, the roar of Iguazú Falls never stopped.

It wasn't the ordinary sound of rushing water.

There was something monumental about it — almost primal. It was a deep, powerful voice of nature that filled the air and made people lower their voices without realising it, as though the place itself demanded respect.

Lucia stood slightly apart from the set, one hand resting lightly against a sun-warmed rock.

She looked as though she had forgotten all about the cameras, the crew and the commercial for a little while.

She was simply watching the falls. The enormous curtains of water crashed into the gorge with breathtaking force. Mist drifted upwards, settling gently on her hair and bare shoulders. Sunlight scattered through the countless droplets, surrounding her with a soft, shimmering glow.

Tavo noticed her immediately. For a moment, he simply stood there, watching. Not like a producer evaluating a model before filming.

More like a man who had unexpectedly discovered something genuinely beautiful in a world full of people trying to look perfect.

Lucia wasn't posing. She wasn't searching for the best light or wondering how she looked. She was simply there, gazing at the waterfall with a sense of quiet wonder that no director could ever have staged. This made her more beautiful than most of the professional models he had worked with.

He was used to people who were constantly aware of the camera — and of themselves. Their movements were so practised. Perfect smiles. Looks rehearsed countless times in front of a mirror.

Lucia was different. Natural. A little lost. A little unsure of herself. At times, she was almost too modest for this world. Yet it was precisely this quality that drew the eye far more powerfully than all the other girls' polished perfection combined.

He walked over without hurrying. He stopped beside her, leaving just enough space between them. He didn't invade her personal space; he simply fitted into it as though he'd always belonged there.

"How are you doing?" he asked quietly.

Lucia didn't turn around straight away. She kept looking at the waterfall, almost as though she feared that if she looked away, the moment itself would disappear.

"I'm so happy," she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper.

Tavo believed her instantly. There wasn't the slightest trace of pretence in her voice. He glanced at her briefly before turning his gaze towards the waterfall.

"I can see that."

There was no flirtation in the remark. No judgement. Only the quiet acknowledgement of something obvious.

Lucia drew in a slow breath of cool, damp air, trying to take it all in—the scent of wet stone, the thunder of the water and the mist settling on her skin.

"I still can't believe they're really this beautiful," she said softly, her voice blending wonder and disbelief.

Tavo looked at her out of the corner of his eye. She was smiling. A simple, almost childlike smile. Completely sincere. Once again, the same thought crossed his mind. The camera was going to fall in love with her.

People always respond to authenticity, even if they can't explain why.

"They are," he replied simply.

Only then did Lucia turn slightly towards him.

"Do you remember how we met?"

His eyes found hers immediately. Of course he remembered. He remembered the young woman who had been hired to help out in the wardrobe department backstage for a single evening during the fashion show in Mar del Plata.

She was too quiet for this business. Too modest. Yet, she was so effortlessly beautiful that looking away had been surprisingly difficult. He remembered noticing her even then.

"I do," he said. "At the fashion show in Mar del Plata."

Lucia smiled gently. But there was something fragile about that smile. It was as though the memory carried far more sadness than happiness.

"Yes..." she murmured. "I'd pinned so many hopes on that trip."

Her gaze drifted away.

Tavo watched the subtle way her shoulders tensed. It was as though she had slipped back into the memory of the girl she had been then: alone, frightened and determined to prove that she had the right to dream big.

"Why does remembering it make you so sad?"

She was quiet for a moment. Behind them, the waterfalls continued their endless, thunderous rhythm.

"Because I came to the city believing that everything would change," she said softly. "I worked in a café, but nothing seemed to go right."

She paused. "I cried a lot that night."

Her voice trembled slightly as she finished the sentence. But she didn't look away.

It was this that moved Tavo the most. Her honesty. The complete absence of performance. She wasn't trying to create an image for herself.

He had met countless girls who were hoping to break into the modelling world. Most of them quickly learned how to hide their fears.

Lucia, however, still spoke about hers as though she didn't yet know they were supposed to be concealed. Perhaps that was why he felt an urge to protect her that was growing stronger than it should have been.

Silence settled between them once again. Tiny droplets of mist clung to her eyelashes. She looked delicate... Yet quietly resilient. Like someone who had survived far more than she ever let on.

Tavo studied her for another moment.

"But you won't be crying today," he said gently. "You're a top model now. This commercial is just the start of an incredible career. You'll see."

Lucia turned towards him. Something softened in her eyes. Not complete faith. Not yet, at least. It's more like cautious hope. She wanted very much to believe that someone could see more in her than the girl who used to serve coffee in a neighbourhood café.

Tavo held her gaze. He truly believed every word he'd said. Not because she was beautiful. He had known hundreds of beautiful women.

Lucia possessed something far rarer: Authenticity. The kind that no one could learn. The kind that money could never buy.

He nodded briefly towards the set, where the crew were already signalling that everything was ready.

"All right," he said. "Let's make a commercial."

Then he looked back at her, giving her his full attention.

"Ready?"

Lucia took a slow, steady breath. Behind her, the waterfalls continued to crash into the gorge with relentless force, reminding her that the world never stops moving. Then she met his gaze and nodded.

"I'm ready."

"I can't swim..."

The light on the set was bright yet softened by nature's own creation: reflected from the water, the rocks and the fine mist drifting up from the falls.

The crew quickly settled into an easy rhythm.

The first shots went remarkably smoothly, as though the landscape itself had decided to cooperate. The breeze lifted Lucia's hair at just the right moments, the sunlight moved across her face precisely when required by the camera, and the thunder of the waterfall provided a deep, steady pulse to everything.

Tavo watched from a distance. Not simply as the man overseeing the production. But also as someone who couldn't help analysing every detail of the image taking shape before his eyes.

The longer he watched Lucia, the more convinced he became that, for once, nothing needed to be manufactured.

Everything simply worked. She stood carefully on the rocks without appearing stiff. With each new take, she got to know the landscape a little better — where to place her feet, how to turn her head and how to catch the ever-changing light.

Each time the camera rolled, a member of the crew would step in to adjust a strand of her hair, straighten the strap of her swimsuit or direct her gaze in a different direction.

And somehow, she never lost herself. Not anymore. Initially, there had still been caution in her—the same caution that Tavo had seen at the hotel and the airport.

But now it was blending with something new: Curiosity. A genuine desire to understand, rather than simply following instructions.

That was what stood out to him the most. Lucia wasn't pretending to be a model. She was simply becoming one. Without trying. There was none of the excessive awareness of her own body and expression that so often betrayed the inexperience and insecurity of other girls.

When the camera moved, her gaze never appeared vacant or rehearsed. Sometimes it lingered on the waterfalls, just as it had the first time she stood there. Sometimes, she wandered briefly towards the crew as though she truly belonged inside the scene rather than being merely part of the composition.

Tavo noticed that the cameraman didn't always call "Cut" straight away. Instead, he let the shot continue for a few seconds longer than usual. As though he had noticed it, too.

During a break, Lucia made her way down to the area where the crew had set up towels, bottled water and equipment. Wrapped in a large white towel, she stood in sharp contrast to her damp hair and the droplets still glistening on her skin.

She was breathing faster than usual. Not because she was nervous. It was because everything she was experiencing had finally begun to catch up with her.

It was as though she had left her emotions on the set while filming, and only now was her body allowing her to feel them.

A few yards away, Tavo was discussing the next camera setup with the cameraman. He listened with one ear. But his eyes kept drifting back to Lucia. He never lingered near her. Yet he never quite lost sight of her, either.

She didn't approach him until the conversation was almost over. Even then, she didn't interrupt. She simply stopped beside him and waited patiently for him to finish speaking.

He noticed that, too. Unlike many beginners, she didn't have that restless urgency to be heard immediately. There was caution about her. But also respect for the work happening around her.

When Tavo finally turned towards her, he immediately sensed that something had changed. It wasn't just the tension anymore. There was something more personal now. It was quieter. It was as though she had finally stopped merely getting through the day... and had started to truly live it.

Leaning towards him slightly, she lowered her voice so that no one else would overhear.

"Tavo... I should have told you this earlier, but..." She hesitated. "I can't swim."

For a moment, his face showed nothing. It wasn't because he was trying to hide his surprise. His mind had simply shifted into practical mode. He considered the scene, safety, risk, logistics and alternatives. The information wasn't a problem. It was just another detail to consider. He turned fully towards her.

"It's OK," he said immediately. "You won't have to."

Lucia searched his face for another moment, as though trying to decide whether those words really meant that she could stop worrying. Or were they simply the sort of reassuring things people in this business always said?

But Tavo wasn't the kind of man to offer empty reassurance. There was certainty in his voice. Not emotional certainty. Professional certainty.

The kind that said, "This has already been thought through."

Only then did Lucia slowly release the breath she hadn't realised she had been holding.

"Okay..." she replied softly.

Her shoulders relaxed, if only a little.

Tavo gave a slight nod, as though the matter were settled. Yet his gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than necessary. It wasn't the fact that she couldn't swim that stayed with him.

It was the way she'd said it. Without drama. Without trying to draw attention to herself. As though she considered it just one more thing she wasn't good at. That was what defined Lucia more than anything else. She didn't perform her insecurity. She simply lived with it.

And yet, she stood in front of the camera. On a set that demanded confidence. In a world that rarely forgave hesitation. Yet somehow, the camera loved her for exactly who she was.

Tavo turned his attention back to the set. But for a moment, his thoughts remained with her. Not as the model. As Lucia. Someone who drew people in without ever trying.

Perhaps that was why he knew this campaign would succeed. Because Lucia wasn't pretending to be anyone else.

And in this business, that was rarer than the perfect sunset over the Iguazú Falls.

Drowning and Rescue

The water was colder than Lucia had expected.

At first, it seemed like just another element of the scene, a backdrop designed to look beautiful on camera. It was clear near the shore, moving lazily and reflecting the light from the waterfalls in an almost unreal way. Everything had looked perfect even before anyone called "action", as if nature itself had prepared the set for them.

But when Lucia stepped deeper into the water, it stopped being just a beautiful backdrop.

Lucia could feel the cold slowly seeping through her skin and the fabric of her swimsuit clinging to her body with each step becoming less certain. She was still focused on the director, the rhythm of the scene and making sure she stayed within the frame.

She wanted to get it right. More than anything.

Because this was the moment everyone had been waiting for.

Tavo stood a few metres away, partly behind the camera, watching the set. From the outside, he appeared calm and almost motionless, but his gaze kept returning to Lucia far more often than to the monitor.

From her very first steps, he had noticed that the water wasn't just part of the scene for her.

"A little farther," the director called from the shore. "Just a little more."

Lucia hesitated for a moment, then moved forward.

Tavo noticed.

The hesitation was barely visible — something that most people would have missed. But for him, it was enough.

The water reached her waist. Then her chest.

Her shoulders were tense, but her face remained focused. There was no fear yet, only the kind of concentration that comes from trying to maintain control over something that feels less stable than it did from the shore.

"A little further," the director repeated, more focused on the shot than on her.

Lucia took one step. Then another.

By then, Tavo wasn't watching the camera anymore.

He was watching her. And then he saw it: The sudden panic in her eyes when something shifted beneath her feet.

“Stop!” someone called from the shore.

But before anyone could react, Lucia had disappeared beneath the surface. The ground beneath her had simply disappeared.

There was no warning. No gradual change. She just had the sudden sensation of falling into the water.

Her body dropped and twisted sideways instinctively. Her hands shot upwards, searching for something to hold onto, but she found only the heavy, moving current surrounding her.

"Stop!" someone shouted again.

Tavo was already moving. He didn't hesitate for even a second.

He stepped into the water quickly, without thinking. But when he saw that Lucia was truly losing control and beginning to sink, he went deeper.

Then he dived in. The cold water closed around him. He reached her almost immediately.

Lucia was drowning. She fought against the water chaotically and instinctively, no longer trying to regain her balance, but simply trying to find air. Her movements were frantic but uncoordinated.

Tavo grabbed her firmly. He supported her body with one arm while keeping her above the surface with the other.

"I've got you," he said, his voice low and close to her ear.

Lucia trembled and breathed unevenly, as if each breath she took was not enough. Her fingers immediately tightened around his shoulder, exerting a strength she hadn't realised she possessed.

"It's okay," he added more softly. "You're safe now."

He pulled her through the water for several moments, keeping her head above the surface.

Only when he felt solid ground beneath his feet did he stop.

But he still didn't let her go. Instead of guiding her through the shallow water, he slipped one arm beneath her knees and lifted her into his arms in one smooth movement.

Lucia didn't even protest. She was too shaken up. Her wet hair clung to her face. Her breathing came in short, uneven bursts and she gripped his soaked shirt instinctively.

Tavo carried her back steadily, ignoring the splashing water and the people rushing towards them from the shore.

The beach erupted into confusion. The first person to reach them was the makeup artist, who was carrying a large white towel.

When Tavo carefully set Lucia down on the sand, the makeup artist immediately wrapped the towel around her, covering her shoulders and back completely. It was as if the fabric itself could protect her from what had just happened.

Lucia sat heavily on the sand. Her whole body was trembling. Not only from the cold.

It was only then that Tavo realised how hard his heart was beating. The adrenaline that had forced him to act without thinking was slowly giving way to the delayed fear of what could have happened.

He sat down beside her, close enough for their shoulders to almost touch.

For a moment, he said nothing. He simply let her recover.

Lucia stared at the wet sand beneath them. Finally, she spoke in a barely audible voice.

"I ruined everything..."

Tavo turned towards her immediately.

"No," he said. "Don't even think that."

His answer came so quickly that it was almost as if he refused to allow the thought to exist.

He leaned slightly closer.

"Tell me, are you feeling better?"

Lucia nodded faintly, although her eyes were still red.

"I'm not hurt, but I feel like a complete idiot."

She spoke calmly, but there was so much helplessness in her voice that every word sounded like an apology.

Tavo shook his head.

"No, that's not true."

He waited until she looked at him.

"You're wonderful, even when you cry."

Lucia stared at him in disbelief. His words sounded so sincere that, for a moment, she couldn't think of a response. For a brief second, it seemed she had forgotten everything else — the water, the fear, the chaos around them.

"You were right," Tavo said quietly. "That river really was dangerous."

A look of surprise appeared on her face.

"What do you mean?"

Tavo fell silent for a few seconds. For the first time since jumping into the water, he appeared to be allowing himself to truly process what could have happened. His expression softened.

"I think..."

He paused, as if saying the words aloud was harder than he had expected.

"If something had happened to you..."

Another silence.

"I wouldn't have been able to live with that."

Lucia stopped breathing for a moment. They simply looked at each other.

Very gently, Tavo brushed a wet strand of hair away from her forehead.

Then he leaned closer and gave her a brief, warm kiss on the forehead. There was no passion in it. Only immense relief.

A moment later, he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer. Lucia leaned into him without hesitation, as if that was the only place where her body could finally stop remembering the fear.

Tavo slowly moved his hand through her wet hair and along her back in a steady, calming rhythm.

He didn't hurry. He didn't say anything else.

Lucia closed her eyes.

The roar of the waterfall surrounded them still, powerful and endless. But, for the first time since she had lost her footing, she couldn't hear it anymore.

Stings of remorse

Although the afternoon sun was still high in the sky, its light had begun to soften, spreading gently across the damp leaves and stone paths leading towards the terrace.

In the distance, the roar of the Iguazú Falls continued its endless rhythm — deep and steady. After a few days, it stopped being something people consciously noticed and became more like a backdrop to their thoughts.

In the hotel restaurant, Lucia sat across from Tavo, but her attention was elsewhere.

Several minutes had passed since they sat down, but the menu remained closed in front of her. Her hands were folded on the table and, every now and then, her gaze would drift towards the railing and the endless green beyond it. There, the mist from the waterfalls rose above the treetops like something alive and impossible to grasp.

Tavo had been watching her for a while. Looking at her now, he had the feeling that he had seen this pattern before. That constant need to take responsibility for things that were never within her control.

It was as if the world was always in need of fixing, and whenever something went wrong, someone had to be blamed.

In that way of thinking, it was always her.

He didn't know exactly when she had learned to see herself that way. But he could see the consequences.

The way she was sitting now, slightly more withdrawn than usual, was a case in point. After what had happened earlier, it was as though she no longer had the right to take up space.

Almost instinctively, he reached across the table and brushed a strand of hair off her cheek that had stuck to her skin due to the humidity.

It was only when his fingers briefly touched her face that he realised just how tense she was. Lucia startled slightly and looked up.

"Aren't you going to eat dinner?"

Her eyes hesitated for a moment, as if she needed a second to return to the conversation from wherever her thoughts had taken her.

"No, I don't want to."

She lowered her gaze to her intertwined fingers as though it was easier to talk to her hands than to the person sitting opposite her.

"You don't want to?" Why not?"

Lucia was silent for a moment, searching for the right words.

A helpless little smile appeared on her face, but it disappeared almost immediately.

"I can't believe we had to stop filming," she finally said. "I'm so embarrassed."

Tavo felt quietly frustrated because this was exactly what he had expected.

Not fear. Not memories of the moment when the ground had disappeared beneath her feet. Not the fact that she had almost drowned.

She was worried about the commercial, as if her own life mattered less than the production schedule.

He looked at her for a moment, feeling a mixture of tenderness and helplessness.

He was beginning to realise that Lucia had somehow been taught to apologise simply for existing.

"Embarrassed?" Lucia, don't say that."

His voice remained calm, but there was a firmness beneath it now.

"You didn't stop filming on a whim. You almost drowned."

For a moment, she looked up. She didn't argue. But there was still doubt in her eyes.

"Yes, but after you pulled me out, I wasn't afraid anymore. We could have continued."

Her voice became quieter.

"What are they going to think of me now?"

The words hurt him more than he expected. He knew she meant them completely. She truly believed that, once she felt safe again, she should have gone back in front of the camera. As if fear could simply be turned off with one deep breath.

Tavo shook his head slightly, unable to hide his disbelief, and leaned back in his chair.

"The only thing that matters is that you're okay," he said gently.

"They were so worried about you that the assistant offered to cover any losses from the delay, and the client is willing to wait as long as you need. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

Lucia frowned slightly in surprise.

Since that morning, she had been convinced that the entire crew was angry with her. She thought they regretted choosing her for the campaign. She thought that, behind their polite smiles, they were blaming her for the wasted time. And yet no one had even mentioned the costs.

For a moment, she tried to reconcile these two completely different versions of reality.

"That's why I wanted to finish filming. I didn't want them to lose time because of me."

Tavo smiled softly. She was truly impossible. Even now, after everything that had happened, she was more concerned about the crew than herself.

He rested his forearms on the table and leaned slightly closer so that she wouldn't have to compete with the sound of the waterfalls to hear him.

"Don't worry. The entire crew is busy editing the footage now."

He paused. His eyes stayed on her carefully.

She was tired. Pale. She was still a little frightened, even though she was trying very hard not to show it.

Suddenly, he realised something. He hadn't seen even the slightest hint of her real smile for the past several minutes. He decided to change that.

"And if you're worried about me..."

Lucia lifted her eyes.

"...then I'm enjoying a beautiful place..."

He paused briefly.

"… and the company of a beautiful girl."

He noticed the immediate warmth spreading across Lucia's cheeks. She looked as though she wanted to answer, but instead she only raised her eyebrows slightly, as if to check whether he was serious.

"So please relax and stop blaming yourself for everything, Lucia."

For a moment, she simply looked at him. She wasn't used to compliments being delivered like this. They didn't sound like flirting. It didn't seem to be an attempt to cheer her up at any cost. They sounded like a simple statement of fact.

And somehow, that made them affect her more deeply. She felt something inside her slowly loosen. Then she looked at him more carefully.

"Okay... I believe you."

A shy smile appeared on her lips. Gradually, it became more natural.

She finally reached for the menu and let out a small laugh.

"I suppose I should order something because I'm starving."

Tavo laughed quietly. That was exactly what he had been hoping for.

A few moments later, when the waiter came over, Lucia ordered dinner as if she had only just remembered that she had barely eaten anything since the previous day.

The conversation slowly moved to lighter topics. Every now and then, Tavo found himself doing things he hadn't planned to do.

Instead of listening to his own words, he found himself watching her face. Only then did he realise how much he had missed her smile over the past few hours.

Last shots

The day on set felt different from previous ones.

The director changed the concept without much discussion, as if, after everything that had happened the preceding day, there was no longer any need to push Lucia's emotions so far. All she had to do was stand in the water up to her knees. The camera, the lighting and the gentle movement of the water flowing around her legs would capture the scene's reflections.

For Lucia, the change felt like a physical relief.

When she stepped into the water, she could feel the cold, but it no longer affected her as much. There was no panic. There was no sudden tightness in her chest, which had appeared instinctively whenever she remembered what had happened.

The ground beneath her feet was stable and predictable.

She could feel the texture of the stones beneath the water, and somehow that was enough to make her body start breathing differently.

The first steps went smoothly.

Lucia was careful, but no longer tense. The water reached her knees and moved softly around her as if adapting to her movements instead of fighting against them. With every passing minute, she forgot more and more that, only a day earlier, this same element had awakened a fear that she had barely been able to control.

Now, she was simply part of the scene.

The camera focused on her face, her eyes, her breathing, the subtle movement of her lashes and how the wind and humidity played with her hair.

Something about the image slowly began to change. Not just technically. Emotionally.

Lucia started to look natural, as if she weren't performing in front of the lens at all. As if she simply existed within it.

Tavo stood a few steps away.

He watched her as before, but now his expression showed less tension and more quiet attention. It was as if he could now see not just the risk she had faced, but also what had come after it.

The fact that she had gone through it. And stayed.

Yesterday evening was still at the back of his mind, but he had moved on emotionally. He viewed it more as a sequence of events to be analysed afterwards, once the initial chaos had passed.

The reactions. The seconds before she fell. His own instinctive movement into the water.

But now he was seeing something else. Lucia was finding her way back to herself.

"One more shot and we're done," the director called from the edge of the set.

Lucia stood still for a moment, as if to make sure she had heard correctly. Then she nodded slightly.

"We're done."

The director's words spread across the set like a signal that suddenly released all the tension that everyone had been carrying since the morning.

For a second, everything remained suspended. Then something in the air simply broke.

Lucia smiled, at first uncertainly, as if she wasn't sure whether she was allowed to be that happy yet. But very quickly, she stopped controlling it. The smile grew wider. It softened her face, her shoulders and her entire body. It was as if she had only just remembered that she no longer had to watch her every movement.

Without thinking, she scooped water into her hands and splashed it playfully.

This spontaneous gesture was completely different to the carefulness she had displayed before. She laughed softly without worrying how she sounded, and some of the crew responded with laughter of their own. It was as if the tension from the previous day had finally found an outlet.

Even the person behind the camera shook his head with a small smile.

Tavo didn't join in. He remained slightly apart, as he usually did, but his expression was different now. There was a quiet relief there. It was a mixture of satisfaction and calmness that didn't need to be explained.

Lucia was whole again. Not just physically, but emotionally too. More importantly, she was whole emotionally, too. That mattered more than any shot they could have captured.

Suddenly, she looked in his direction. Their eyes met for a brief moment. Shorter than a breath. But it was long enough for something unspoken to pass between them. Then, without planning it and without hesitation, she walked towards him.

Tavo didn't even have time to react before she threw her arms around him, overwhelmed by all the happiness and emotion she had been holding inside.

"Tavo, thank you for everything," she said quickly, still breathless with emotion rather than calm.

For a moment, Tavo simply held her. As if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Then, almost instinctively, he lifted her into his arms. Not because she needed saving. It was simply because the joy she exuded was so overwhelming that it seemed impossible not to respond to it.

He turned with her once. Then again. Her laughter blended with the sounds of the setting and the water around them. Lucia held onto him firmly, not out of fear or because she needed protection. Only because she was happy. Something inside her had finally returned after everything had broken apart and slowly begun to rebuild itself.

When he put her back on the ground, neither of them moved away immediately. Lucia was breathing quickly, but not from tension anymore. Only from emotions that were too big to go anywhere except out through laughter.

Tavo looked at her quietly. For the first time since the start of the trip, he wasn't thinking about whether everything was going according to plan. He thought only that this was exactly what "after" was supposed to look like.

Attractions in Iguacu

The day in Iguaçu had a certain lightness and endlessness to it — the kind of day where each new moment felt slightly more intense than the last, yet somehow more natural at the same time, as if the place itself were teaching them how to breathe there.

The day after the final shoot had arrived.

The last day of the trip.

Perhaps because of that, everything felt lighter. The tension that had accompanied them throughout the project had been left behind somewhere, among the water and the cameras.

Lucia was wearing two plaits that day. They were simple and slightly messy, as if someone had braided her hair in a hurry, somewhere between laughter and setting off on the next adventure. There was nothing about them that suggested a photo shoot — no styling, no careful preparation and no attempt at perfection. And that was exactly why they suited her more than anything she had worn in the preceding days.

Tavo noticed it immediately. Not in the sense of judging her appearance. It was more like noticing a change in the atmosphere. It was as if Lucia — the same girl he had been watching throughout the entire trip — had suddenly stopped "being at work", even though they were still surrounded by the world of production.

She was simply herself.

Something else had changed, too: her presence no longer felt separate from his own. It was as if the distance that people usually kept between themselves had no reason to exist here.

---

The first attraction was the cable car.

The open-air cabins moved slowly above the endless green landscape. There were no windows or barriers between them and the surrounding air. The wind immediately tangled itself in Lucia’s hair, while mist from the waterfalls drifted everywhere around them as if the whole area were exhaling water.

Lucia sat slightly leaning forward. Her eyes were wide open, not out of tension, but out of a kind of wonder that no longer needed to be controlled. She looked at the landscape as if trying to memorise it with her entire body, not just her eyes.

At one point, she smiled to herself, stood up slightly and looked around for a better view.

"This is like flying over another planet," she said softly.

Tavo sat beside her.

But his attention was not equally divided between the view and her.

Most of the time, he was watching Lucia.

He watched how completely she was there. She wasn't pretending to be amazed — she was truly experiencing it. And how natural it was for her. No hesitation. No wonder whether she was supposed to react a certain way.

There was something about her carefree happiness that affected him differently to anything he had encountered in his professional life.

There, he saw control. Decisions. Responsibility.

Here, he saw something that simply existed. Something effortless.

Lucia suddenly threw her head back, letting the wind play with her hair.

"It's incredible," she murmured, as if she still couldn't believe it wasn't just a picture.

Tavo lifted his camera. Not the large professional equipment from the set, but a small compact camera that he had brought "just in case". As always.

"Don't move," he said calmly.

Lucia looked at him with a slightly teasing smile.

"I always move."

There was no protest in her voice. Only amusement.

For a moment, Tavo allowed himself a hint of a smile.

"I know," he replied, taking the picture. Then he took another one.

This time, Lucia didn't turn away. Instead, she simply stayed in that moment — with the wind that wasn't trying to control her, the view that didn't need interpreting, and the feeling that nothing had to be done perfectly anymore.

Tavo looked through the viewfinder, but he could see much more than just a frame. He saw the girl who, only a few days earlier, had been afraid to step into the water.

The same girl who was now sitting on an open cable car above the waterfalls, as if the world were no longer something to be feared.

He didn't have time to take another picture. The cabin swayed slightly as it moved around a bend. Lucia lost her balance and stumbled.

Tavo caught her instinctively, putting one hand around her waist and the other on her hip to steady her. He pulled her closer so she could regain her footing and didn't let go for a few seconds.

Lucia simply stood there beside him, leaning against him slightly more than necessary.

For the first time since the start of the trip, he realised that what remained after a project was not necessarily what was advertised.

Sometimes, it was someone who no longer looked like the same person they had been at the start.

---

The hiking trail brought them closer to nature.

Lucia walked slightly ahead, stopping occasionally for no particular reason: once to look at the leaves, once to turn towards the distant waterfall and once simply because she had found something amusing. There was a natural lightness about her. Tavo noticed it, though he didn't fully analyse it himself. It wasn't a 'model after work" transformation. Rather, he saw it as the return of something that had always been there, hidden beneath layers of tension, stress and constant self-control.

Every so often, he lifted the camera. He took pictures without warning. Sometimes of Lucia laughing. Sometimes it was her back as she walked a few steps ahead of him. Sometimes he would just capture the way the sunlight settled on her hair, a moment that could never have been planned.

Lucia eventually noticed. She turned over her shoulder.

"You’re taking pictures again," she said, playfully accusing him.

Tavo didn’t even lower the camera from his eye.

"Work," he replied calmly.

"On the last day?" she scoffed, though her smile revealed that she wasn’t really complaining.

"The best day," he answered.

Lucia rolled her eyes, but she was clearly amused. They kept walking.

Then the toucans appeared as if out of nowhere.

They were brightly coloured and vivid, completely at odds with how serious and mysterious the jungle had seemed only a few minutes earlier. One of them came very close to Lucia, seemingly unconcerned by the presence of humans.

Lucia stopped immediately.

"Are they real?" she whispered, as if she didn't want to scare them away by making a sound.

"Probably not," replied Tavo, looking through the camera.

Lucia let out a laugh.

"That doesn’t help."

"It helps me take pictures," he answered. Click. Another photo.

Lucia looked at him with a mock-threatening expression, but a second later, the bird had completely captured her attention. Then, without warning, one of the parrots landed on her shoulder.

Lucia froze. Completely. Her entire body went still, as if she were afraid that the slightest movement would upset the balance of the world.

"Tavo..." she whispered, not even turning her head.

"I see," he replied calmly.

But this time, there was something else in his voice. Something softer. Like a laugh he was trying to hold back.

The parrot tilted its head and looked at Lucia with absolute calm, as if she were the most important thing in the entire jungle.

Lucia remained perfectly still.

"I'm not moving," she whispered, more to herself than to him.

Tavo took a picture.

"Don't laugh," she warned him, still frozen in place.

"I’m not laughing," he replied, though this time it was obvious that it required effort.

A moment later, the parrot flew away as suddenly as it had appeared. Lucia finally released the breath she had been holding.

"I think it accepted me," she said, relieved and proud, as if she had just passed a test set by nature itself.

Tavo looked at her over the top of the camera.

"Or it decided you didn’t have any food," he said.

Lucia burst out laughing. It was a genuine, loud laugh, completely uncontrolled.

"That sounds much more likely," she admitted.

Tavo took one more picture. Not because he had to. But because there was no way to forget this moment.

Lucia walked a few steps behind Tavo, still looking out for more colourful birds. At one point, she stopped on a small rise in the trail and looked down at the path, which descended gently between damp tree roots.

"This looks like the easiest part of the day," she joked.

Before Tavo had time to answer, Lucia did something completely spontaneous.

She stepped closer, placed her hands on his shoulders and, without much warning, jumped onto his back as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He was taken aback only a second later, when her weight was already resting against him.

"Lucia...?" he murmured, more amused than surprised.

"What?" she replied from above, resting her chin lightly on his head. "I’m saving my energy."

He stood completely still for a moment, as if checking whether this was actually happening.

Then, with a quiet laugh, he simply shook his head and held her more securely by the knees.

"You’re not saving energy. You’re redefining it," he said.

Lucia laughed, gently swaying on his back.

"Are we going?"

"We're going," he answered, continuing down the trail as if this were the most natural thing in the world. And, to his own surprise, it was.

---

At the end of the trail, they came to a steep descent.

The stones were wet from the constant mist rising from the waterfalls, and they shimmered deceptively in the afternoon sun, looking smoother than they actually were. While there was nothing truly dangerous about the path, one careless step could easily cause a loss of balance.

Tavo went down first, instinctively choosing the more secure spots. When he reached the slipperiest section, he stopped, turned around and offered her his hand.

Lucia looked at him with a brief, warm smile. She didn’t protest or try to prove that she could handle it on her own. She simply placed her hand in his, accepting his help as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

She took a few careful steps, feeling the damp stone beneath her feet, while he steadied her more out of habit than because she needed his help.

Once they reached the drier part of the path, everything seemed to return to normal. Except their hands didn’t separate. For the first few seconds, neither of them even noticed.

They continued the conversation, the forest murmured around them and they walked at an unhurried pace, as if holding hands was the most ordinary thing in the world.

It was only after a while that Lucia realised she could still feel the warmth of his hand. She probably should have let go. That was what common sense told her.

And yet she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

It simply felt good. Surprisingly good.

Tavo had noticed it as well. He could have released her hand at any moment. All it would have taken was the slightest loosening of his grip. But he didn’t.

He wasn’t even sure whether this was because he had forgotten or because this simple contact felt strangely natural. It was as if, since the beginning of the trip, they had found small, innocent reasons to get closer to each other.

They continued like that for a long time, neither of them quickening their pace or acknowledging the gesture in any way.

Neither of them tried to give the gesture any deeper meaning.

Yet they both had the quiet feeling that, when their hands finally parted, they would both notice.

Pontoon cruise

The boat ride was the most intense part of the day.

At first, it was incredibly fast.

It seemed to tear across the water, and the entire world became a blur of movement: the white roar of the waves crashing down, the deep rumble of the waterfalls and the wind that didn't just blow, but pushed straight into their faces. The water struck them like a series of tiny explosions — cold, sharp and alive.

Lucia stood at the bow.

She was wearing a life jacket and was already soaked after the first few minutes, with her hair sticking to her cheeks. Yet there was none of the stiffness that Tavo remembered from the first days, nor any trace of hesitation.

She was simply... surprisingly free.

She was laughing. She wasn’t controlling it. She wasn’t forcing herself to appear brave. She was simply reacting to the water, the speed and the raw power of nature, which seemed to carry her away rather than frighten her.

"THIS IS AMAZING!" Lucia shouted several times, turning her whole body towards Tavo and grabbing his forearm whenever she wanted to say something over the noise.

Tavo stood right behind her, holding her around the waist as the boat lifted over the waves. Each time he caught her, he needed a moment to remind himself that he could let go. But, as time passed, his hand remained there a little longer each time.

Lucia didn’t tense up. Her back naturally rested against his chest, as if her body itself knew where it was safest and most stable.

Herrera was no longer just seeing her as part of the job. She was more like something that constantly refused to fit into a definition. With growing clarity, he saw how unafraid she was.

Not in a reckless way. She lacked that inner barrier that makes people pull away, step back and protect themselves before anything has even happened.

The life jacket should have made that unnecessary. Lucia wasn’t clinging to him for support, and that affected Tavo the most.

He saw something in her that he never would have expected after that first day: the ability to regain her balance after something that would have left many people shaken for a long time.

And she... She had simply gone through it and remained the same person.

Yet his hand did not move away a second sooner than necessary.

---

The journey back was completely different.

The engine ran smoothly, the boat moved at a calmer pace and the water no longer battered them, but instead surrounded them gently and flowed around them. After the intensity of the previous minutes, everything suddenly felt quiet and almost soothing.

For a moment, Tavo turned his back to Lucia, pointing out the waterfall emerging from the mist in the distance.

Standing slightly higher up on the deck, Lucia simply moved closer and wrapped her arms around Tavo from behind. Her hands slid over his shoulders and came together across his chest. She rested her head against the back of his neck, exuding a soft confidence that assumed it didn't need to ask permission.

For a second, Tavo froze. Only for a second.

Then, as if he wanted to keep that moment from moving on, his hands instinctively found her fingers resting against his chest and gently held them.

Halfway back, Tavo sat down on the bottom of the boat while Lucia stood for a moment longer. She took deep breaths and looked at the surface of the water, as if checking that it was indeed the same river that had been raging only moments before.

Then she simply joined him.

She slipped between his legs and rested her back against his chest as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Tavo didn’t protest. In fact, he shifted slightly to make her more comfortable. He gently placed a hand on her stomach and pulled her closer.

Lucia sighed softly, the way someone does when they finally stop being constantly alert. She rested her head more comfortably.

"I thought that, after everything that happened, I’d be completely exhausted," she said, laughing lightly.

There was no tension in her voice. Only a soft, carefree joy that came naturally, without any effort.

Tavo looked down at her. For a moment, he didn’t answer. Seeing Lucia like this was something he needed a moment to take in.

He had seen her stressed, frightened and uncertain. He had seen her when panic took over and she lost her footing. But now, after an experience that could have made her retreat for a long time, she had simply kept moving forward.

Not only physically, but emotionally too.

"You weren't afraid at all," he said quietly, more to himself than to her.

Lucia turned her head slightly towards him and rested her cheek against his chest.

"I was a little afraid," she admitted softly. "But... it was so... good."

It was as if she couldn’t have described it better herself.

Tavo smiled faintly and instinctively adjusted the braid that had stuck to her cheek. There was a mixture of admiration and disbelief in his gaze. He was seeing something very specific: not just courage, but an absence of barriers that weren’t forced or pretended. He also noticed the speed with which she had found her balance again, as if her emotions didn’t leave marks on her for as long as they did on other people.

At the other end of the boat, the photographer from the crew — the same one who had spent the entire trip documenting everything and capturing the "life between takes" — sat casually leaning against a case of equipment with his camera hanging around his neck. He was wet, too. Tired, too. But in that quiet, peaceful way that comes with the end of the day rather than exhaustion from work.

From time to time, he lifted his camera and took pictures. Not staged ones, but moments that simply happened on their own: Lucia leaning against Tavo; their laughter; water glistening in their hair; sunlight reflecting off the river's surface.

At one point, he looked in their direction.

"Hey," he called casually. "Don't move so perfectly. I can’t keep up."

Lucia burst out laughing.

"We're not moving perfectly," she replied.

"That’s exactly what I’m seeing," the photographer muttered, taking another photo.

Tavo looked over at him.

"I want a print," he said calmly.

The photographer raised an eyebrow.

"Of course."

Lucia turned her head towards Tavo, still resting against him.

"You collect pictures?" she asked, amused and curious.

"Sometimes," he replied.

"So I’m a 'sometimes'?" she asked.

Tavo looked at her briefly. This time, there was something very simple in his voice.

"No."

Lucia smiled wider, as if that answer was exactly what she needed to hear.

Only then, as the boat moved, did Tavo realise that Lucia's touch was no longer merely a 'reaction to the situation'. It had become something his body simply expected.

The boat continued to glide calmly across the water. Nothing else needed to happen — except for this day to last just a little longer.

Shopping and souvenirs

The city of Iguazú was quieter in the afternoon than it had been in the morning.

The cinematic intensity of the waterfalls and the tension of the film set had disappeared. Instead, it seemed ordinary — with its shops, pavements, tourists clutching maps, small cafés and windows filled with items intended to become 'souvenirs'. The air was heavy with heat and humidity, but it was no longer overwhelming; it was more lazy than anything else, as if the day itself was slowing down before coming to an end.

Lucia and Tavo went out together to buy small gifts for the crew. Without rushing. Without a list of things to check off.

Lucia walked slightly ahead of Tavo, sometimes stopping suddenly in front of a shop window as if something had caught her attention purely out of curiosity. There was no 'I want this', no tension of wanting to possess something. It was much simpler than that: a beautiful reflection of light, an interesting shape or a tiny glimmer of metal or glass that made the world seem a little more ordered for a second.

Tavo had noticed it from the beginning. She never said anything that suggested desire. She simply looked. What stood out to him most about her now was the way she naturally reacted to things without immediately turning them into a goal, a purchase or a decision.

In front of a small jewellery shop, Lucia slowed down. Then she stopped completely.

The display was simple yet elegant. Inside, delicate gold and silver pieces caught the light, making everything appear softer than it really was — as if the objects themselves were quiet.

Lucia looked at the pendants. Not for long. Not intensely. More like someone who had briefly been caught by something — without a plan, without taking the next step. One of them held her gaze for a second longer than the others, but soon her eyes began to drift elsewhere.

"Pretty," she said quietly.

And that was all.

There was no “I’d like one” and no hidden intention behind the words. It was just a pure reaction to something beautiful, as if the world had done something right for a moment.

Tavo stopped beside her. He watched for longer. Not the display.

Her.

He noticed that Lucia didn’t have the instinct that he often saw in other people. That small pause in front of beautiful things that actually meant, "This could be mine."

She didn’t have that. For her, it was simply a matter of whether something was beautiful or not. Then she would move on.

Somehow, that stayed with him. Not because it was extraordinary. It was simple.

After a moment, Lucia stepped away from the window as if she had already forgotten about it.

"Oh, there are magnets over there," she said suddenly, pointing towards a kiosk across the street. "I think I’ll get something for the girls."

Her energy changed instantly. Without transition. It was as if one thing had simply replaced another without any attachment to what had come before.

"I'll go over there for a moment," she added, already walking away. "Are you coming?"

Tavo nodded.

"In a minute."

Lucia smiled and walked off, already focused on simple, practical choices: which magnet was "funny", which one was "pretty", and which one 'someone else might like". There was a surprising lightness to it all — no unnecessary complications over something that was nothing more than a small gesture.

Tavo stayed in front of the shop. For a few seconds, he stared at the window.

He wasn’t consciously analysing it, but one moment kept returning to his mind: Lucia standing there for a few seconds, the light falling across her face, her quiet "pretty", and the way she immediately walked away.

No hesitation. No hidden meaning.

Then he turned and entered the shop.

The interior was quiet and cooler than the street outside. The bell above the door rang softly and the saleswoman looked up, ready to help him.

Tavo didn’t look around for long. There was no need.

He pointed to one of the pendants in the display. The same one that Lucia had paused at, if only for a moment.

"That one," he said briefly.

The saleswoman nodded and began wrapping it without asking any questions.

Tavo stood there calmly, but his thoughts weren’t entirely practical.

It wasn’t an emotional impulse, nor was it careless or unconsidered. It had just happened, without any decision being made. It was as if it wasn’t the object itself that had caught his attention, but the way Lucia had looked at it: briefly, lightly, without attaching any weight to it.

And that was exactly what he couldn’t stop thinking about. He couldn’t fully explain why something so small had stayed with him longer than things that, in theory, should have mattered more.

When he stepped outside, Lucia was already at the kiosk.

She stood by the display of magnets, laughing softly with the vendor and choosing things for the crew with complete dedication, as if it were an important yet small task in itself. She commented on each one briefly and spontaneously, never giving them more importance than necessary.

Tavo walked over calmly. Lucia turned towards him immediately.

"Did you find something?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied.

He didn’t add anything else. Lucia didn’t ask any more questions. As always, she saw no reason to step into something that wasn’t her business.

They continued walking down the street. The air was warmer than before and the sun was slowly changing to the soft light of late afternoon.

Lucia talked about the magnets she had chosen, constantly shifting between amusement and practicality as she mentally arranged who would receive which one.

Tavo walked beside her. Every now and then, he glanced at the bag.

For a moment, his thoughts returned to the jewellery shop. Not because it was important. Only because it was... different.

Then, somewhere between one step and the next, he realised something simple.

Lucia didn’t see things as "opportunities". She saw them as part of the world.

It was a thought that wouldn't leave his mind.

The effect after initial assembly

In the evening, Lucia’s room was half-dark, illuminated only by the television screen showing the finished commercial. They were alone together. The silence between them was not peaceful; it was heavy with anticipation and tension, as if the air in the room were waiting for her reaction more than she was.

Lucia sat on the edge of the bed, leaning slightly forward as if she wanted to disappear into the screen while simultaneously trying to escape it. All the memories from the set mixed together in her mind — the repeated takes, the director’s voice, the cold water, her own uncertain movements. Now, in the finished version, everything seemed stranger than when it was happening.

The longer the recording continued, the tighter her hands gripped the fabric of her skirt. Every now and then, she pulled a small face, as if each passing second were a test whose outcome she already knew, even though no one had said anything yet.

Tavo sat slightly to the side, but never took his eyes off her. He wasn’t really watching the commercial anymore. He was watching her — her reactions, her smallest gestures and the way she held her breath during certain shots.

For him, what appeared on the screen was merely the end result. The real work had happened beforehand — in the water, amid the tension, in that one moment when, despite her fear, she didn’t back down.

When the commercial ended, Lucia remained silent for a moment. Only the quiet sound of the television turning off and her uneven breathing filled the room. She felt that this silence was worse than any comment could have been. Immediately, all the 'mistakes" that only she could see began to appear in her mind.

"I... I don't know," she finally said, her voice trembling slightly.

She looked away from the screen, but a second later, her gaze returned to it as if searching for confirmation of her fears.

"It looked... strange. I felt strange. It was as if I was constantly trying to be careful. You could tell it was forced, couldn't you?"

She spoke faster and faster, growing more and more nervous with every word, as if the longer she waited, the stronger the certainty became that everything had gone wrong.

The familiar feeling returned — the feeling that she had to justify herself; that someone would soon say she wasn’t good enough after all; that it had only been luck.

"I really tried, but maybe I tried too hard. Maybe it just didn’t turn out the way it was supposed to. Do you think anyone will even take it seriously?"

Her fingers tightened. At that moment, it was no longer just about the commercial. It was about her — whether what she had done had any value at all.

Tavo looked at the now-dark screen for a moment. But his attention quickly returned to her, sitting beside him, tense and overly self-critical, unable to see what he saw.

A look of understanding and calm mixed with amusement appeared on his face, as if her panic was both understandable and exaggerated.

He leaned back slightly, still watching her. He didn’t rush his answer. To him, this was one of those moments when a single sentence was enough to stop a spiral of doubt in its tracks.

"After watching that commercial, I feel like buying the shampoo... but with the model too."

Lucia fell silent. She blinked several times, as if unsure whether she had heard him correctly.

For a moment, her mind tried to analyse it seriously — was it a joke, a compliment, an opinion, or something in between?

But then, as if someone had loosened an invisible grip she had been holding since the beginning of the video, the tension in her shoulders slowly began to disappear.

Confusion flickered in her eyes, followed by a glimmer of relief — a feeling she was not yet ready to embrace fully.

She looked at him and, for the first time in several minutes, almost smiled.

Tavo watched her quietly. That was exactly what he had wanted.

Not to convince her that she was perfect. Only to remind her that she had been looking at herself through completely different eyes to everyone else.

Everyone else had seen something very different. They had seen Lucia. Not someone desperately trying to become a model. Not someone pretending. Just Lucia.

That was exactly why the camera loved her.

A groundbreaking dinner

On the last evening of the trip, everything was quiet, as if the rush of the previous days had suddenly ceased to exist. The commercial had been filmed and the client was thrilled with the footage. There was nothing left to fix and no more decisions to be made. It was just the two of them, sitting at dinner with no reason to hurry and no set time for the evening to end.

The hotel restaurant was bathed in the warm glow of candlelight. Through the wide windows, all that could be seen was the darkness of the tropical night, broken only by the distant glow of lamps illuminating the terraces. The sound of the waterfalls was no longer clearly audible, but it was still present in the background, like the steady rhythm of a place that could never be completely silenced. Soft music drifted down from the ceiling, not drowning out the conversations around them, but filling the spaces between words.

Lucia sat across from Tavo in the red dress — the same one she had chosen with some hesitation, convinced it was too elegant for an ordinary dinner. Now, however, she no longer thought about it. For the first time since they had arrived, she did not feel uncomfortable because of the place or the way she looked. She felt as if she could simply be herself.

Tavo watched her discreetly over the rim of his glass. More and more often, he found himself doing so without even realising it. A few months earlier, he would have been certain that the only thing that mattered was whether a model did her job well. Now, however, instead of thinking about the commercial, he found himself wondering why he enjoyed watching Lucia laugh so much.

Just a few days earlier, he had mostly seen her as a girl from the countryside, trying desperately to prove that she deserved her chance. Now, however, he saw a woman who was becoming more confident with every passing hour. Not because someone had taught her how to be. Simply because she was beginning to believe that she truly belonged there.

Lucia took another bite and smiled with amusement.

"I had no idea how hungry I was."

"Yes, waterfalls awaken all the senses, don't they?"

"Yes."

Tavo set his glass down. He looked at her for a moment with that quiet focus that made her feel as though she were being heard, even before she had finished speaking.

"I like the way you eat. I have a feeling that the weight has finally been lifted from your shoulders."

Lucia raised her eyebrows.

"Weight?"

"You're more relaxed, more open. It's like something that had been weighing on you for a long time has disappeared. Something that was troubling you."

For a moment, she turned the glass between her fingers. She didn't usually talk about herself so easily, especially not with him. And yet tonight, everything seemed simpler.

"You know, since you mentioned it, yes, I think you're right. I'll tell you something."

A faint smile appeared on Tavo's face.

"The truth?"

"Yes."

She took a sip of champagne. She did not hurry. It was as if each sentence only became ready once the previous one had been spoken.

"I have a mother. She's very good to me. I also had a father who was very kind to me. He didn't live long; I barely remember him. But I loved him so much. Even so, I often felt empty and alone."

Tavo did not look away. There was no pity or sympathy in his eyes that made her feel fragile. There was understanding.

"Yes... it's true."

Lucia didn't know why she was telling him things she had hardly ever told anyone. Perhaps it was because, with him, she did not have to pretend. He didn't try to comfort her just for the sake of it, or look for some easy answer.

"And now, for the first time in many years, I feel safe. Oh, and that's it."

She smiled, slightly embarrassed by her own honesty, and took another sip.

Tavo felt a strange warmth somewhere deep in his chest. For years, he had tried to protect those he felt responsible for: Mercedes, the models, Kuka. But never before had anyone simply told him that they felt safe with him. This affected him more than he wanted to admit.

After a moment, she looked at him again.

"Let me tell you one more truth. I don't want to go back to Buenos Aires."

A wide, warm smile appeared on Tavo's face.

"I feel so good here. I feel so safe. And you? What do you think about it?"

Her glass was already empty.

Tavo was silent for a moment. He could have answered with a joke. He should have answered with a joke. Everything would have been easier that way. But ever since they arrived in Iguaçu, it had become increasingly difficult to convince himself that this girl was just one of his models.

"Do you want me to tell you the truth?"

Lucia nodded.

Almost instinctively, she reached for his glass and took a sip from it. It was only when she moved the glass away from her lips that she realised, of course, that it belonged to Tavo. Under normal circumstances, she would have apologised immediately. But now it felt surprisingly natural. It was as if they had become accustomed to a closeness that she could not have imagined a week earlier.

"When I'm with you, I'm happy."

Her hand stopped halfway through the motion. She had not expected to hear words like that. Even more surprising was how ordinary they sounded. No grand declarations. No unnecessary drama. It was as if he were simply stating something obvious. And that was exactly why she believed every word.

"Happy. I feel younger."

Their eyes met and stayed that way for a little while longer.

Suddenly, Tavo smiled, lightening the mood.

"And I have a feeling you're drinking too much from my glass."

Lucia laughed softly.

"Forgive me, but mine is empty. I drank everything in it, so now I'm drinking from yours."

She looked at him, a playful spark in her eyes.

"Does that bother you?"

"No, it's fine."

He leaned slightly across the table, closing the distance between them. His voice dropped lower, almost conspiratorial.

"But be careful. Whoever drinks from my glass might discover my secrets."

She didn't even notice that she had leaned closer too. It was only when their faces were much nearer than at the beginning of dinner that she realised that neither of them had been trying to maintain a safe distance for several minutes.

"Really?"

Tavo laughed.

"Some of my secrets might make you blush. Your face would turn as red as this dress... and your lips."

For a brief moment, neither of them moved. It was only after the words had left his mouth that he realised how open to interpretation they could be. A few days earlier, he would never have allowed himself to make such a compliment. He should have pulled back. He should have turned it into a joke. Yet he did not. He waited for her reaction, feeling nervous in a way he had not done in years.

Lucia felt her heart beating faster. She did not know whether it was the champagne, the evening's atmosphere, or the way he was looking at her. For the first time, she thought that his gaze was no longer that of her boss.

"I'd like to know your secret."

"You want to know my secret?"

She nodded with a smile.

"Truth and nothing but the truth?"

They both laughed almost simultaneously.

"Come on," she said, raising her glass to her lips. "Get it out. Don't be afraid."

This time, Tavo stopped smiling.

He looked at her for a long moment, as if he still could not believe that he was about to say it out loud. For the first time in years, he didn't know how to act. Usually, he was the one who guided conversations, set boundaries and made decisions. With Lucia, however, he increasingly had the feeling that those boundaries were disappearing of their own accord. Instead of rebuilding them, he was letting them fade away.

"I like you so much that I can't find a logical explanation for it."

The words hung between them.

As he spoke, he felt as though he was crossing an invisible line that he had stubbornly refused to acknowledge for the past few days. He wasn't even sure if he could name what he felt. All he knew was that Lucia's presence was no longer ordinary to him. He had started to look forward to every conversation with her, her smile and the way she saw the world. And that frightened him the most.

Lucia did not answer. She felt as if her heart was beating so loudly that everyone in the restaurant would hear it. She no longer understood her own feelings. Until recently, she had been convinced that she loved Federico. Now, that memory felt distant, as if it belonged to someone else entirely. She didn't try to analyse it. The only thing she knew was that when Tavo looked at her like that, the whole world around her went quiet.

Later, when they left, the night was warm, and soft lights illuminated the hotel garden. They walked past the pool, its surface calm and almost perfectly still.

Lucia walked closer to the edge, laughing at something Tavo had said. The alcohol was still affecting her, loosening her and making her carefree, but not chaotically. One step was just a little too close to the water. Tavo lightly bumped her shoulder. She did the same in return. In that moment, they both lost their balance.

They fell into the pool.

The water closed over them instantly. The cold was sharp and shocking, stealing their breath.

Lucia reacted instinctively; the lightness of the evening was gone, leaving only a pure reflex. For a moment, she searched for something to hold onto, even before she understood where she was.

Tavo reacted without thinking. He didn't need to make a decision — his body did it for him. He remembered. He knew. The memory of her inability to swim returned to him immediately, like a reflex that never truly disappears. He grabbed her firmly and lifted her above the surface, as if nothing else existed in that single moment.

Lucia gasped for air, her hands tightening automatically around his shoulders.

"Tavo..." she whispered, the word breaking more like a breath than a voice.

He did not answer right away. He held her steadily and securely, too close for it to be only about saving her. He should have let her go. The water only reached their chests. There was no longer any danger. And yet he did not. It was as if they had both forgotten that there had been no reason to remain this close for several seconds now.

Water ran down his face, but his eyes were fixed on her. For a few seconds, nothing changed — except that the silence between them grew heavier.

Lucia's breathing quickened. She realised that she no longer needed to hold onto him. The bottom of the pool was right beneath her feet. She could have taken a step back. She did not. She did not even know why. Water slid down her cheeks, her hair clung to her shoulders and her heart was pounding so hard that she could feel it throughout her entire body.

The tension that had been building between them since dinner, the looks and all the words left unsaid throughout the day, simply found its way out.

Their faces were only inches apart. Lucia could see tiny droplets of water resting on his eyelashes. She could feel his breath, calmer than hers. He looked at her as if searching her eyes for an answer to a question he had never dared to ask.

All it would have taken was for one of them to turn away. Neither did.

The kiss was not a decision.

It was the consequence of everything that had happened since they had boarded the plane together.

An awkward return

The morning brought no relief. Lucia woke up and lay motionless, staring at the ceiling. She thought that simply looking at it might somehow put everything that had happened the previous night in order. The kiss returned uninvited, leaving a memory on her lips and in her hands.

At the hotel, she saw Tavo only once. He held her gaze instinctively, as if he wanted to say something, but Lucia turned her head away. The movement was too quick and deliberate, leaving no room for a reaction.

That was exactly the point — not leaving any space where anything could happen.

Later, she consistently avoided him, but never in an obvious way. She was afraid that any contact between them could upset the fragile balance.

Tavo noticed immediately.

He didn't need to hear any words to know that something inside her had shut down. He could see it in the way she never let her eyes linger on him. He saw it in the way she maintained distance even when they were physically close. He could feel the tension in the silence between them, as if it were held in place by force.

He wanted to break it. Not because he needed to explain everything logically. It was more because he did not want them to become strangers within a matter of hours.

But she never gave him the chance.

On the plane, they sat next to each other. Lucia took the window seat and immediately turned towards the glass. A moment later, she closed her eyes.

Her breathing was calm and even, and carefully controlled. She was not asleep, but she did not allow herself a single movement that might give her away. She was aware of everything: the shift of his arm, the change in his position and how long he looked at her for.

Pretending to sleep was the only way she could avoid having to react.

Tavo sat stiffly with his hands on the armrests. He turned his head towards her several times, but each time he looked away again without saying a word.

In Buenos Aires, the air felt heavier and drier.

Inside the taxi, Lucia sat upright, staring straight ahead. Her body remained still and closed in on itself, controlling every impulse. She wasn't rehearsing conversations in her head. Instead, she was keeping her distance, making sure nothing slipped out accidentally.

Tavo sat beside her. For a while, he looked out of the window, but his gaze kept returning to her. He did not want the trip to end with silence, pretending that nothing had happened being the last thing left between them.

He felt that if they did not talk now, the awkwardness would remain forever. He shifted slightly. He turned towards her and rested his arm along the back of her seat. He looked at her carefully.

"Did something happen, Lucia?"

She hesitated briefly. Not over the answer, but whether she would allow herself to say it at all.

"No. Nothing happened."

The words came out faster than she had intended.

Tavo immediately heard it. Not as information, but as an attempt to close the subject before it had even begun.

"Are you sure?"

Lucia tightened her fingers around the fabric of her trousers. Her eyes remained fixed ahead, but she wasn't really seeing anything. The tension she had been holding onto since morning could no longer be contained.

"No. I'm not sure of anything."

Her voice sounded so helpless and honest that Tavo felt a quiet sense of relief. She had stopped shutting him out.

He turned towards the front.

"Please stop here, on the corner," he said to the driver.

Lucia has a big heart

The café was bright and warm, filled with ordinary sounds that felt completely out of place next to the silence.

Lucia sat down at the table and, for a moment, didn’t know what to do with her hands. In the end, she wrapped her hands around the ice cream cup, holding it tightly as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded amidst it all.

Tavo had his coffee in front of him. He didn’t drink it right away. Instead, he simply looked at Lucia with concern, waiting for her thoughts to settle.

“I don’t understand what I’m feeling. I’m confused. Everything is so complicated."

Saying it out loud didn’t bring any relief. In fact, it only served to confirm the state she had been in for hours.

Tavo smiled briefly and warmly, almost instinctively. Then his expression became serious again.

"Yes, coming back is hard. But what’s happening? Do you regret something?"

Lucia shook her head. For a moment, she searched her heart for regret, but couldn't find any. She didn’t regret the kiss. In fact, she didn’t even regret allowing herself to forget about the entire world for a few minutes. She simply couldn’t understand how all of this had happened alongside her love for Federico and not instead of it.

"No," she said. "That’s not it."

Seeing how lost she was, he realised that she didn’t need explanations. She needed a little peace. If he left her alone with the belief that she had done something unforgivable, she would relive this moment over and over again.

"There’s no going back now. What happened was something we both wanted," he said calmly.

Her eyes dropped to the table for a moment. It wasn’t about the trip itself. If they could turn back time, they would probably still have gone together. The problem was that she could only see now how much of her life had been taken up by someone who was never supposed to be there.

"We shouldn't have gone alone."

Tavo fell silent for a little longer than usual. His brows drew together instinctively. For a moment, he truly believed that she regretted everything that had happened at the waterfalls. The thought hurt him more than he wanted to admit.

"But why?"

He leaned back slightly.

"Lucia, I don't know what will happen next either. I don’t know what will happen with you or with me. I know you like Federico. I know you love him."

The mention of Federico's name hung between them, not as an argument, but as an undeniable fact. Lucia lowered her gaze.

"I know I love him too," she sighed heavily.

Saying his name felt like reaching back to her old life. The safe one. The predictable one. The one where everything had its place. And that was exactly why she couldn’t understand how one kiss had been enough to make everything suddenly uncertain.

"I don’t know why I did it," she said.

She stirred the melting ice cream, even though she wasn’t eating it.

Tavo watched her for a moment longer, tenderness softening his expression.

His mind returned to the waterfalls and the moment when everything had become too intense. Her breath, her movement, that brief hesitation which changed nothing. And what remained afterwards — something that could no longer be undone or reduced to "nothing".

He exhaled and smiled gently. He knew he couldn’t answer that question for her. All he could do was try to make her stop judging herself so harshly.

"What happened? Do you want to figure it out? I’ll help you a little."

Lucia looked up at him, silently asking what he meant.

"Imagine that you have a huge heart and that you can love two people at the same time," he continued.

Her brows drew together. For a moment, she felt as if that was precisely what she had been trying to do: distil everything into one simple sentence and leave it behind. She felt a brief pang of disappointment. If this was just a way for him to accept the situation, why was the memory of that night still so vivid for her?

"You’re suggesting that I forget everything that happened."

Tavo immediately shook his head.

"No, I won't forget. I wouldn’t be able to."

For a moment, he looked away. He didn’t want to play down what had happened between them. Quite the opposite, in fact. That was precisely why he was searching for a way to preserve it. Not as the beginning of an affair or a betrayal of Federico, but as something that could remain beautiful precisely because it wouldn’t lead to more lies.

"I’m suggesting we leave everything as it is. Let's start over. Let’s think about it again. This stays between us. Let's keep it a secret."

He leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his hands.

"It will be our secret."

Lucia looked at him for a long moment. She didn't make a sudden decision. Rather, it was the realisation that this version of events would allow them to return to normal, even if it didn’t truly solve anything.

"Our secret?" she repeated.

"Yes. Do you agree?"

The silence lasted until Lucia finally nodded.

"I agree."

They both smiled at each other too quickly, as if they wanted to believe that this alone would make the tension disappear.

Tavo looked at her for another moment without trying to force an ending or close something that wasn’t ready to be closed. He reached for her hand and squeezed it gently and briefly. There was no urgency in the gesture, no promise — only reassurance that this conversation didn’t have to end badly.

He kissed her hand softly.

Photos from the trip and a phone call from Lucia

Tavo walked into the office without hurrying. He was still wearing the light-coloured suit that, after Iguazú, seemed less "formal" and more simply like him. His mind was still filled with the sound of the waterfalls, Lucia’s laughter and the way she saw the world, as if everything were somehow a little more possible than it should have been.

He wasn’t sure what from that trip belonged to work and what didn't. The secretary looked up from her documents as he walked past.

“Tavo, an envelope came for you. It's from the photographer from the trip. The prints from your camera are ready too.”

Tavo stopped for a moment. He took the envelope.

"Thanks."

There was a softer tone to his voice that he rarely used in the agency. He entered his office and only then opened the envelope. The photographs spilled across the desk: waterfalls, the shoot, and the moments between takes.

And her: Lucia.

In the first photo, she was looking to the side with the natural concentration she displayed when unaware that she was being photographed. In the next one, she was laughing, her wet hair stuck to her face. She was completely free of the professional "pose" that models usually adopted.

Tavo’s gaze lingered on that photograph.

Lucia wasn’t looking at the camera. She stood slightly turned away, as if she had been captured in the moment between thought and movement. Her hair was still damp from the water, with a few strands clinging to her cheek. There was nothing staged about her. And yet the photograph made it look as if she knew exactly how she was meant to look.

Tavo stared at the shot for longer than he should have.

He couldn’t pinpoint when he had started to see her as more than just “the model from the casting”. It hadn’t come about in a single moment. It had happened gradually, spread out over time, through small things that shouldn’t have mattered — and yet they had stayed with him.

He remembered the way she stood on set on the first day: still tense, but attentive, as if trying to understand the rules of an unfamiliar world. Or the way she laughed near the waterfalls, wind in her hair, completely unaware that someone was looking at her as more than just a face for a commercial.

And in that one moment in the water, when fear flashed across her face but didn’t completely paralyse her. Instead of surrendering to panic, she searched for something to hold onto; even in chaos, she refused to lose herself.

Tavo slowly exhaled as if he had only just returned to the office.

Maybe it had started then. Or maybe it had started earlier.

He smiled faintly to himself.

That was precisely the moment when the sliding doors opened without a knock and Kuka strode in, as she did every day. Her presence immediately pulled him back into reality. Hard. Organised. Professional.

"How did it go?" she asked right away.

Tavo didn’t look up immediately. He moved another photograph aside, as if he wanted to put that brief private moment behind him before returning to the conversation.

"Good," he finally answered. "Very good."

Kuka crossed her arms.

"More specifically?"

Tavo leaned back calmly in his chair, but his expression had already become more focused.

"Lucia was excellent. Natural. The camera loved her. The client was thrilled."

He spoke calmly and objectively. But beneath that assessment was something more — it wasn't just a typical project analysis.

It was certainty that didn’t require further argument.

Kuka didn’t answer immediately. She looked more cautious than critical, as if trying to determine whether this was simply a professional evaluation or something that was beginning to move beyond that.

"I hope it wasn’t just the effect of the “trip experience”."

The word "experience" lingered in the air for a moment.

"It wasn’t an experience," Tavo cut in calmly. "It was work."

There was a slight sharpness in his voice, like the fine line between composure and a boundary he didn’t want to cross.

Kuka raised her eyebrows, but before she could respond, Tavo looked at her more directly.

"And how is Danielle?" he asked calmly, clearly changing the direction of the conversation. There was no pressure in his voice, just a polite transition to a subject that — officially, at least — should have mattered more.

Kuka stiffened slightly for a moment, though she quickly regained her composure.

"Better," she answered briefly. "The fever is gone."

"Good," Tavo nodded. "I’m glad."

Kuka glanced towards the desk and only then noticed the photographs.

For a moment, she said nothing. Her eyes moved across the scattered prints from the trip — waterfalls, the set, technical shots — until they stopped on a photo of Lucia.

Her expression changed for a moment — a mixture of surprise and tension, the kind that appears when reality doesn’t match someone's assumptions.

Lucia looked too present in those photographs. Not like a random model from a project. She looked more like someone who had naturally become part of a space that had never belonged to her — and, because of that, had started to change it.

Too close to his world.

"Is that her?" she asked coldly, pointing at one of the photos.

Her voice was controlled, but there was something harder beneath it than usual. Not curiosity. Control.

Tavo didn’t answer immediately.

He moved one of the photographs with his fingers, giving himself a moment to compose an answer he didn’t want to give. The picture of Lucia holding onto the boat's railing stopped beneath his hand.

For a moment, he had the impression that Kuka was looking not only at the photograph, but also at how long he had been looking at it for.

He moved the picture slightly further away, as if physical distance could help to create emotional distance.

"Yes," he finally said.

It was short and neutral, but not as detached as he would have liked.

Kuka kept looking at the photographs.

"I see you two became very close," she added calmly.

But there was something sharper beneath the surface of her voice. It wasn't a direct accusation, but more of a test to see how far the boundary could be pushed before someone finally drew the line.

Tavo lifted his eyes and looked directly at her. There was no defensiveness in his expression; rather, he appeared more attentive, as if he had only just realised that this conversation was no longer only about the project.

"We worked together," he replied calmly. "That’s all."

The words were simple. Professional. But everything left unsaid hung between them: all the moments that had nothing to do with "work" yet had happened anyway.

The silence between them grew heavier. Not openly tense. Rather, it was quiet and still, like the air before a decision that nobody wanted to name.

Before Kuka could answer, the phone on the desk rang and Tavo instinctively picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

His voice still carried traces of the earlier tension, but without the sharp edge of the conversation about the photographs. It was just professional neutrality, readiness for whatever had interrupted the silence.

The voice on the other end was familiar: Lucia. She was quieter than usual, as if the phone itself were something heavier than just a device. As if the decision to call had cost her more than it should have.

"Tavo, I’m sorry to bother you. I’m home, but could we talk?"

In that moment, something in him changed. For a split second, his expression softened, though he didn't notice.

Lucia didn’t sound like someone who had done anything wrong. Rather, she sounded like someone who needed reassurance that the world was still there.

"Yes," he answered immediately. "I'll come."

He hung up at once. Kuka raised her eyebrows.

"Now?"

Her voice was calm, but beneath that calmness lurked something new: a mixture of disbelief and irritation that she didn’t want to show.

"Yes," he said.

He was already reaching for his jacket.

Kuka watched him carefully now, no longer hiding her tension.

"Tavo, you have a meeting in an hour."

Her voice was an attempt to restore order. Not only to his schedule, but also to whatever was beginning to shift in front of her.

He didn’t even look at the clock.

"They'll reschedule," he replied calmly, as if he were talking about moving a document rather than a meeting that would normally require negotiations.

The idea of rescheduling sounded like the most obvious thing in the world.

And that was what struck her the most. Kuka stepped closer. She wasn’t pretending indifference anymore.

"I’ve never seen you react this way," she said more quietly but clearly.

There was more to that sentence than just an observation. It was an attempt to articulate something that she didn’t understand — something that didn’t fit the Tavo she knew at work.

Tavo stopped halfway to the door. For a moment, he looked as if he was considering an answer that would "close the subject".

A professional answer. Cold. Safe. Instead, however, he simply looked at her.

"This is important," he said.

Then he walked out. Kuka stared at the photographs on the desk and, feeling angry, began scattering them across the surface.

For the first time, she wasn’t sure if it was only about them.

Chapter 2 - Federico

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