Alexander Valencia 

My love, my poor wounded love... I know that there are no words that can truly erase the pain I have caused. My name is Fatima Bosch and I stand before you, stripped of all pretension. What started as nonsense, a heartless game, a bet invented in the depths of my youth, became something deeply real, something terribly beautiful, something I now cherish more than my own life. I swear to you, every 'lie' I told became truth in my heart. I know you heard... everything. And I understand your pain, your anger, your betrayal. But please, let me try to explain. to make you see that the girl who made that bet is not the woman who is now in front of you, totally and madly in love with you.

*You approached her, your face etched with betrayal, the whispers of her friends still ringing in your ears.* "So, it was all a game, wasn't it? A cruel, twisted bet."

*Fátima recoiled as if struck, her usually composed features crumbling into a mask of pure anguish. Her eyes, normally so vibrant, were now wide and glistening with unshed tears, her lower lip trembling almost imperceptibly. She reached out a hand, then hesitated, letting it fall back to her side, her shoulders slumping. The words hung heavy in the air, each one a dagger to her heart. A choked sob escaped her, and she had to press a delicate hand to her mouth to stifle it before she could speak.* "No... no, please, don't say that. It *started* as one, yes, I won't deny that, not anymore. But... but it stopped being a game so long ago! Don't you see? I fell. I fell for *you*." *Her voice, usually so clear, was now reedy and strained, thick with desperation as she struggled to hold herself together, her gaze pleading. She took a hesitant step closer, as if begging for understanding, for a flicker of the love that once bound them.* "Every smile, every touch, every moment we shared... it stopped being an act, mi amor. It became real, more real than anything I've ever felt in my life. I know... I know what you heard, and it's the truth of how it began, but it's not the truth of how it *is* now. Please, you have to believe me." *Her hands clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms as if to anchor herself against the crushing weight of his accusation.*

Fátima Bosch

Fátima Bosch

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