Sr.X

Sr.X

Pauliny Nunes

170.6k Words / Ongoing
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Introduction

Un matrimonio que tenía todo para funcionar, este es el de Dalia Penedo, quien hizo todo para ganar el corazón de Carlos Salazar y tener su "Felices para siempre". Pero a medida que pasa el tiempo, las cosas cambian... y también los sentimientos.

Aunque Dalia ama a su esposo, su curiosidad la lleva a embarcarse en el peligroso mundo virtual, donde conoce al Sr. X, un hombre que le robará el corazón a la joven.

Dalia ahora está dividida: ama a su esposo, pero está locamente enamorada de X. Esta es una historia real, donde las decisiones que tome pueden cambiar su futuro para mejor... o para peor.
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About Author

Pauliny Nunes

Chapter 1

Barcelona, 31 de diciembre de 2005.

De todos los comienzos que imaginé, este es mi favorito: mi primera Nochevieja en Barcelona después de dos años en Inglaterra. Dos años de gente fría, clima frío y mucho estudio. Hasta que convencí a mis padres de que Barcelona era donde debía terminar la secundaria, en mi hogar. Así que esa Nochevieja fue la encarnación de mi felicidad. Lo único que faltaba era Edward, mi amorío inglés.

Para todos aquellos que no han tenido la oportunidad de pasar la Nochevieja en Barcelona, tómense un tiempo y vengan, no saben lo que se están perdiendo. Las calles están todas decoradas, y hay una calidez en la conexión humana que no he encontrado en ningún otro lugar. Pero volviendo a esa noche maravillosa...

Recuerdo estar en mi habitación, absorta en un juego, sin darme cuenta de cuándo mi hermana menor, Valeria, entró en la habitación. Me sobresalto cuando me toca el brazo, tratando de llamar mi atención. Dice algo, pero tengo los auriculares puestos y no entiendo lo que dice, así que me los quito y la miro enojada. Apuesto a que quería usar la computadora para jugar también.

—¿Vas a ir, verdad? —pregunta Valeria, con sus ojos almendrados más abiertos de lo habitual—. Dijeron que solo puedo ir si tú vienes conmigo. He estado esperando esta fiesta durante meses, y todos estarán allí.

—¿Qué fiesta? ¿De qué estás hablando? —pregunto, sin entender a qué se refiere.

—¡La fiesta de Júlio! —dice Valeria, chasqueando los dedos frente a mi cara. Se arrodilla, tan dramática como siempre, y suplica—. ¡Por favor, ven conmigo! ¡Será muy divertido!

—No sé... —respondo honestamente. Las fiestas de Júlio son del tipo de las que solo vuelves a casa cuando el sol ya ha salido.

—¡Por favor, por favor, por favor! —mi hermana suplica, casi arrodillándose a mis pies—. Incluso te prestaré mi vestido blanco de lentejuelas...

—Amas ese vestido —digo, mirando los ojos suplicantes de mi hermana. Para que Valeria ofrezca su vestido como moneda de cambio, significa que realmente quiere que vaya. Respiro hondo y respondo—. Está bien, iré contigo. Pero nos iremos cuando yo diga, ¿de acuerdo?

—¡Por supuesto! —responde Valeria, abrazándome. Corre hacia nuestro armario, agarra su vestido blanco y lo pone en mi cama. Toma otro vestido rojo y va al baño, saltando felizmente para cambiarse.

Parece una decisión trivial, si ir a una fiesta o no. Pero hoy veo que esa decisión desencadenó todo lo que sucederá a partir de ahora. De algo estoy segura: si pudiera volver atrás en el tiempo, tomaría la misma decisión.

Después de unos minutos, estamos listas para ir a la fiesta de Júlio. Mis padres también están vestidos; pasarán el Año Nuevo en casa de unos amigos y estarán pendientes cuando los llame. Nos subimos al coche, y me siento junto a la ventana. Me encanta observar las noches de Barcelona. No pasa mucho tiempo antes de que mi padre estacione frente a la enorme casa de los Castillos, el hogar de Júlio.

—¡Feliz Año Nuevo! —dice mi padre, besando a mi hermana y luego a mí.

—Nos vemos el próximo año —bromea mi madre, dándome un beso en la mejilla.

—Adiós, papá. Adiós, mamá —me despido, saliendo del coche.

Tan pronto como salimos del coche, mi hermana me agarró del brazo y me arrastró hacia la fiesta. La emoción en su rostro parecía sospechosa, pero se justificó cuando entramos en la casa. Era como si todos los jóvenes más atractivos de la ciudad hubieran decidido asistir a esa fiesta. Nos sonreímos y caminamos hacia el anfitrión de la fiesta, Julio Castillos, el heredero de la cadena de hoteles Castillos. También era uno de mis mejores amigos.

—Dalia Penedo —dijo Julio, alejándose de su grupo de amigos y acercándose a nosotras. Me abrazó cariñosamente y luego se volvió hacia mi hermana, Valeria, curioso—. ¿Y quién es esta belleza?

—Mi hermana, Valeria —presenté a mi hermana, que no podía ocultar su interés por Julio.

—Ah, sí, Valeria —dijo Julio, mostrando un leve desinterés al reconocer a mi hermana. Me sonrió y continuó—. Me alegra que estés de vuelta en nuestra vista mortal, querida. Ven a conocer a mis nuevos amigos.

—Sin duda, necesito actualizar mis contactos —dije, sonriéndole.

Miré a mi hermana, cuyos ojos estaban muy abiertos, enfocados en el grupo de chicos hacia el que Julio se dirigía. Entonces mi corazón se aceleró... Entre ellos, un chico con la sonrisa más hermosa que había visto en mi vida captó mi atención. Sus ojos marrones se encontraron brevemente con los míos, invadiendo mi mente como si estuviéramos destinados a estar juntos. Caminé hacia él, encantada por su rostro, que podría haber parecido ordinario para otros, pero para mí, era todo lo que siempre había soñado. Él era mi alma gemela.

—Me voy a casar con él —dije, sonriendo a mi hermana, que me miraba, confundida.

—¿Quién? —preguntó mi hermana, mirando al grupo.

—Ese —lo señalé discretamente.

—Está bien, entonces yo me casaré con el que está a su lado —dijo mi hermana en tono juguetón. Me agarró del brazo y me jaló—. Vamos a conocer a nuestros futuros maridos.

A medida que nos acercábamos al grupo, todos los chicos nos miraron, incluido él, que me miró atentamente, dándome escalofríos.

—Chicos, estas son las hermanas Penedo: Dalia —presentó Julio, señalándome, y luego a mi hermana—. Y Valeria Penedo.

—Hola —saludó mi hermana con la sonrisa más grande.

—Estos son Eduardo —Julio señaló a un chico rubio—, Pierre —se refirió al posible pretendiente de mi hermana—, Elson —presentó a otro chico—, y Carlos —señaló finalmente a mi pretendiente.

Carlos, ese es su nombre. La conversación comenzó dentro del grupo, pero yo no participé. Preferí mirar a mi pretendiente, que me devolvía la mirada. Sus ojos eran más expresivos que cualquier palabra que pudiera decir. Mi rostro se sentía caliente, así que sonreí y aparté la mirada, pero no pasó mucho tiempo antes de que me encontrara mirándolo de nuevo. Podría vivir solo para mirarlo. De repente, los gritos llenaron el aire, y el tiempo había pasado tan rápido que la gente ya estaba contando los segundos para el Año Nuevo.

—¡Feliz Año Nuevo! —gritaron todos. Mi hermana me abrazó y luego fue a abrazar a todos los demás.

Julio me da un beso ligero en la mejilla, al igual que la mayoría de los asistentes. Pero yo me quedo en mi lugar, al igual que Carlos, quien se acerca lentamente. Envuelve sus brazos alrededor de mi cintura, su toque me da mariposas. Siento el calor de sus manos en mi espalda. Su rostro se acerca al mío, nuestras mejillas se presionan una contra la otra. Siento cada parte de su cuerpo presionada contra el mío. Sus labios casi tocan mi oído, y su aliento indica que sus palabras están por llegar:

—Feliz Año Nuevo —susurra Carlos. Me sostiene firmemente, muy despacio. Mi cuerpo encaja perfectamente en el suyo.

Luego, mi futuro esposo se aleja con su hermosa sonrisa y se dirige hacia las otras personas en la fiesta. Aún abrazo a algunas personas más, tratando de mantener un ojo en Carlos. Noto que está hablando emocionadamente con alguien por teléfono.

—Dalia, ¿por qué sigues aquí parada? —pregunta Julio, sin darse cuenta de mi situación—. ¿Estás bien?

—Estoy genial. Y estaré fabulosa si me cuentas más sobre Carlos —respondo rápidamente.

—¿Qué Carlos? —pregunta Julio, mirándome como si no conociera a Carlos.

—El chico que me presentaste —recuerdo, tomando un sorbo de champán que me sirvieron.

—Ah... Es amigo de Elson —dice Julio, siguiendo mi mirada que aún está en Carlos, quien sonríe por algo que le está diciendo un chico—. Pero no te hagas ilusiones, Dalia.

—¿Por qué? —pregunto, sorprendida, mirando a mi amigo.

—Primero, es un chico pobre. Acaba de empezar a trabajar en una empresa pesquera local... un proletario. Sin mencionar que ese corazón ya tiene dueño. Está comprometido.

—No me importa su clase social, y... comprometido no significa casado —respondo rápidamente.

—¿Y qué hay de tu amor inglés? —pregunta Julio, recordándome a Edward, como si eso fuera a cambiar algo—. El guapo, rico y poderoso inglés.

—Ya sabes... más de lo mismo —respondo enigmáticamente.

—No vas a rendirte con él, ¿verdad? —pregunta Julio, refiriéndose a Carlos.

—Me conoces tan bien, Julio —respondo, besando la mejilla de mi amigo. Luego le susurro al oído—. Necesito su número de teléfono antes de irme; lo quiero en mis manos. Él será mío.

—¿Estás hablando del teléfono o de su dueño? —pregunta Julio en el mismo tono de voz.

—De ambos —respondo, alejándome de Julio. Me acerco a mi hermana, sin quitarle los ojos de encima a Carlos, que ahora está al otro lado de la sala, despreocupado.

—No me digas que ya quieres irte... —se queja mi hermana.

—No... solo estoy revisando las cosas —explico, sonriendo.

—Esa sonrisa tuya no me engaña. ¿Qué estás tramando? —pregunta mi hermana, mirándome fijamente.

—Nada... todavía —respondo, sonriendo a mi hermana.

—La cena está servida —anuncia Julio en voz alta a todos sus invitados.

Mientras me siento en la mesa, me doy cuenta de que mi amigo ya está haciendo sus movimientos. Carlos se sienta a mi derecha, pero evita cualquier contacto conmigo. Pasamos toda la cena intercambiando miradas fugaces. Miradas tímidas de él y miradas intensas de mi parte. La cena es bastante alegre cuando él se levanta y dice:

—Gracias a todos, pero tengo que irme; tengo otro compromiso.

Sonríe en mi dirección, luego a los invitados, y se aleja de la mesa. Todo mi cuerpo tiembla hasta el punto de que me levanto y lo sigo. No puedo controlar mis pasos, al igual que no puedo controlar mi mano que agarra el hombro de Carlos, haciendo que se dé la vuelta, sorprendido. Le sonrío torpemente, sin tener la menor idea de qué decir.

—Perdón... pero ¿no crees que es un poco temprano para irte? —pregunto. Maldita sea, ¿qué clase de pregunta es esa?—. Quiero decir... creo que deberías quedarte un poco más...

—Agradezco tu preocupación por mi ausencia, pero necesito encontrarme con mi prometida —responde Carlos—. Y ya voy tarde.

—Está bien —digo, ligeramente decepcionada.

—Feliz Año Nuevo... —dice mientras se pone el abrigo, tratando de recordar mi nombre.

—Dalia —respondo rápidamente. Me inclino hacia su rostro y le doy un beso en la mejilla, diciendo—. Feliz Año Nuevo, Carlos.

—Nos vemos por ahí —dice Carlos torpemente, abriendo la puerta.

—Sin duda —respondo con mi mejor sonrisa.

Agarro mi teléfono y llamo a mis padres para que vengan a recogerme; ya no quiero quedarme en la fiesta donde Carlos no estará. Necesito ir a casa y pensar en cómo conquistarlo. Vuelvo a la mesa e informo a mi hermana y a todos los demás que también nos vamos. A Valeria no le importa mucho porque la fiesta había sido una decepción para ella, ya que estaba buscando un gran amor de Año Nuevo. Ya estamos en la puerta con Julio cuando mi amigo me abraza y luego me toma la mano, dándole un ligero beso. Siento que puso algo en mi mano, pero me impide abrirla.

—Regalo de Año Nuevo. Solo ábrelo cuando llegues a casa —ordena Julio, enigmático.

Sonrío y me subo al coche con mi hermana. Deseo abrir mi mano justo allí, pero no tengo idea de lo que podría ser, y cuando se trata de Julio Castillos, cualquier cosa es posible. Tan pronto como entro en la casa, corro a mi habitación y me lanzo sobre mi cama. Decido abrir mi mano cuando mi hermana entra en la habitación como un tornado y se acuesta a mi lado, curiosa.

—¿Qué te dio? —pregunta Valeria.

—Estoy a punto de averiguarlo —digo, levantando mi mano. Lentamente, emerge un pedazo de papel blanco con un número de teléfono. Pero lo que me hace feliz es el nombre que aparece justo debajo: Carlos Salazar.

—¿De quién es este número? —pregunta mi hermana, con los ojos muy abiertos.

—De mi futuro esposo —respondo con una sonrisa traviesa en los labios.

De algo estoy segura: La caza comienza ahora.

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