Page 109 of Resolute

Gustavo steps forward and introduces us to the owners with his usual charm. After a brief exchange, we walk toward the neat rows of cocoa trees. The air is thick with the smell of soil and ripe fruit.

A few farm hands are busy harvesting, their movements practiced but graceful. They graciously take their time to show us how they determine when the cocoa fruit is ready to be collected. One of the workers carefully slices open a pod, revealing the shiny bean.

Gustavo reaches in and scoops out a handful. Without hesitation, he pops a few into his mouth and eats them.

My face scrunches. “Can you eat the beans without processing them?” I ask.

Everyone laughs, and I am even more confused.

“The gel that coats the beans is sweet, and it’s safe to eat,” Gustavo says.

I move to scoop out a few to taste, but Camila stops me.

“If you eat too much, it can loosen your stomach,” she warns.

Understanding dawns on me, and Camila smiles.

“Thanks, wife. That’s the last thing we need on our last day here,” I chuckle.

We’re going out dancing tonight, and I can’t wait to unwrap Camila from her little black dress.

“Try it, just a tiny bit,” Camila encourages me as she eats some.

I relent, and the sweetness invades my taste buds. It’s unfamiliar—different from sugar cane or honey—but pleasant in its own way.

It's the gel-like texture I can’t get past—it almost feels like eating runny Play-Dough.

“You’re right, it is sweet,” I say, keeping my tone neutral. I don't want to sound too judgey or ungrateful for the opportunity.

We continue the walk, and the owners begin a discussion about how many kilos of dry beans they can export to Hacienda Carmen each year.

I start crunching the numbers in my head. Between the wine production and this new chocolate endeavor, I’d be stretched too thin. I don’t want to go back to my workaholic ways. This week has been bliss, just focusing on this project and enjoying time with my family. Then at night, losing myself in my wife—that’s the kind of life I want.

“Listen, all this sounds amazing. A couple hundred kilos of cocoa beans would be a great starting point for us to test thewaters with our investment group. But honestly, I don’t think I can oversee the vineyardandthis project.”

The farmers’ faces immediately fall, as does Gustavo’s. I hate to disappoint people, especially since we came all the way to Colombia to talk business. But there are two people in my life now that I can’t—and won’t—disappoint.

“Well,” Camila says, breaking the tension.

Everyone's attention immediately moves to her, even though her eyes are trained on me.

I nod at her, encouraging her to continue.

“Maybe this is a project I can oversee,” she asserts.

I raise my eyebrow as a smirk appears on my lips.

“I have a good rapport with Gustavo, and I have a business degree I could put to use. This project is something I’m passionate about—adding something of value to the Godoy Group.”

My heart soars with pride as I see my wife transform into my partner. Not only is she the perfect woman in every sense imaginable, she’s also the perfect business partner.

I wonder if she’s been thinking about taking charge of the project all along, or if it’s something that just came to her after seeing the farms and meeting the people who will be working on it.

Either way, I can’t think of a better person to lead this initiative and make it a success. Camila did an amazing job with the early research for this project, and I know she’s going to be amazing.

Instead of answering, I simply kiss her. It takes her a couple of beats to catch up, but the moment she’s out of her initial shock, she jumps and wraps her legs around mine.

The catcalls and whistles don’t take long to start in the background, but I couldn’t care less.

---