Page 22 of My Spanish Love Affair

I don’t dare risk another look.

“IswearI’ve seen his face somewhere before,” she mutters, more to herself than to me. “Maybe on TV or something? It’s going to drive me mad. Youreallydon’t know who he is?”

“No idea,” I reply, my voice clipped, though my mind is racing.

I can feel the weight of Santi’s gaze lingering long after we’ve turned the corner, and the memory of his confident smile burns in my mind.

Even as Sarah chatters on about how familiar he looks, I can’t help but wonder why fate seems so intent on throwing us together. And what exactly he wants from me.

∞∞∞

Back at my apartment, I can’t shake the image of him from my mind, try as I might. The car, the smile, the way he looked at me like he knew something I didn’t…

Whoishe?

And why does he seem so familiar, even to Sarah?

I give into my curiosity and reach for my phone from my nightstand to start my internet stalking.

But with so little to go on - just his first name, his general location and a vague sense of recognition - it’s like searching for a needle in a haystack. No matter how many variations of “Santiago, Valencia, man” or “Santiago, Valencia, black sports car” I type, nothing relevant comes up.

With a tired sigh, I toss my phone onto the bed and accept defeat.

Maybe it’s all in Sarah’s head - baby brain, or something. Or even if he was someone of note, then maybe it’s better not to know.

After all, he’s just a random stranger. Nothing more.

Chapter Ten

The end of February sneaks upon me, and after one whole month of living here, my new life in Valencia is starting to feel…

Well, likemine.

My days are filled with a rhythm and familiar routine that I’ve come to enjoy: teaching, exploring, and finding little moments of quiet in between.

The school feels so familiar now. In some ways, it’s almost like I’ve always been here. The students are so well-behaved, though they do still giggle every time I butcher a Spanish word - especially some of the older ones. I don’t mind, though, and I use my hiccups as examples to show them how we’re all always learning, no matter our age.

It sometimes feels like an odd position to be in. After all, at twenty-five, I’m only thirteen years older than the youngest students. But still, I take my role very seriously.

It’s strange to think how quickly everything has come together since Madrid, and I tell Carlos as much during our first catch-up meeting.

“Olivia!” he greets me, his face beaming from my laptop screen. “How’s everything going?”

“Really well,” I say, adjusting my seat. “The kids are great, andthe staff have been really welcoming. Sarah’s left for maternity leave now, but we’ve swapped details so we can keep in touch. And I’ve even been expanding my Spanish, though it’s… well, let’s just say it’s a work in progress.”

Carlos chuckles. “It always is. There are words in English that I’m still learning. But it sounds like you’re settling in nicely.”

“I think so,” I reply. “You were right - Valencia’s so beautiful. It’s such a different pace of life, but I really like it. I’ve been exploring a lot when I’m not working, and it feels good to be somewhere new.”

“That’s what I love to hear,” Carlos smiles. “And the role itself? Have you had many challenges?”

I shake my head. “Not really. Sarah was just amazing in terms of helping me get up to speed, and now that I’m on my own with it, I kind of feel like I’ve been able to really find my feet. The headteacher even complimented one of my lessons.”

Carlos smiles warmly. “That’s great to hear. It sounds as though you’re receiving it yourself, but for what it’s worth, we’re getting very positive feedback about you. And hey, if you ever need anything - resources, advice, someone to vent to, whatever it may be - you know where to find me.”

“Thanks, Carlos,” I say sincerely. “I appreciate it.”

After a few more updates, the call wraps up. As much as I’m loving my new-found independence, it feels good to also know I’m not entirely on my own.

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