The dinner was becoming increasingly uncomfortable for me. The thought of having to accompany Mark in his car to his house, sleep in a bedroom that wasn't mine, and put on the same clothes the next day gnawed at my nerves. I had forgotten to pack a bag in my parents' home, overwhelmed by the evening's stress. Mark, however, seemed to read my mind, his lips curling into a half-smile as he observed me.

"Sofía, tomorrow we'll need to address each other informally in front of my daughter. I'll need to hug and kiss you; I hope that won't be an issue since, in two days, you'll be my wife...