The air in the cafe was light, infused with the scent of freshly baked croissants and the festive clinking of spoons against ceramic. Morning light filtered through the large windows, illuminating a marble table where two friends sat—one with a smile so wide it made her cheeks ache. Sofia held a cup of cappuccino she had allowed to go cold, but she didn't care. Her world had just been turned upside down, and every single cell in her body was in a state of euphoria.
Across from her, Bea watched with an expression that was a mixture of relief and triumph. "So? What did he say? Out with it! I can't wait any longer!"
Sofia laughed, a crystalline sound as light as the air. "It... it really happened, Bea," she whispered, her eyes shining. "He told me he wasn't joking. That the thought of marrying me isn't a punchline, but something that scares him to death because it's true."
Bea bolted upright from her chair, making the table wobble. "I TOLD YOU!" she exclaimed, her voice a sharp whisper of a genius who had just cracked the ultimate code. "I always knew there was something more! I saw it in his eyes! I was the only one!"
"But it's not just that," Sofia continued, trying to steady her friend and pull her back down into her seat. "There was a moment where he... he showed me his mark. You know, the star-shaped birthmark. He said it's a reminder of who he is, of what he's lost... and that I'm the only person who truly sees him."
Bea sat back down, hands clasped as if in prayer, her face a blend of awe and emotion. "Oh, Sofia," she murmured, her tone shifting to an unexpected sweetness. "This isn't just love. It's destiny. Don't you see? You were made to be together."
Then, the enthusiasm took over again. Bea grabbed a napkin and a pen. "Listen, we need to start planning. The location! I'd say a villa on Lake Como, or maybe the Amalfi Coast. You know, with the sea view! And the dress! We have to go to... no, it doesn't matter. We'll have a custom dress made, something never seen before! A gown that makes you look like a goddess."
Sofia couldn't stop smiling as she watched her friend gesturing frantically. It was the first time she had truly contemplated a future like this—a future that went beyond a simple date. Bea, however, was already visualizing it.
"And the flowers! White roses, obviously," Bea continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And the party favors... maybe small silver sculptures shaped like stars. Or a mini football. Oh, no, a football would be too cliché. We'll do the stars. And the menu! It has to be a mix of Italian and Argentine cuisine to honor Juglian. Think about it: him talking to your parents, shaking your father's hand and saying, 'I will take care of your daughter.' I'm going to cry just thinking about it!"
Sofia felt as if her heart had skipped a beat, but this time it wasn't out of fear—it was pure joy. Bea was right. The thought of marrying Juglian was no longer a distant idea. It was a plan. A dream coming true, and her heart beat in unison with her best friend's excitement.
She leaned forward, picking up her glass of water. "To the future," Sofia said.
Bea, without hesitation, grabbed her cappuccino cup. "To the future!" she replied. "To our future, Sofia! And to a world where you and Juglian are finally happy."
In that moment, in that small cafe amidst the chaos and frenzy of Milan, Sofia no longer felt like a princess in a fairy tale, but a queen ready to conquer her kingdom, with Bea by her side.