As if sensing me staring, her eyes meet mine across the gym, and she offers me a tiny, friendly nod, before putting on a straw hat with a white veil and hooking her arm with Pedro’s. And my elation at finding a friend in her suddenly dissipates a little, giving way to a tight feeling in my chest the moment Pedro beams his most telenovela smile at her.

Victor leans in and asks in a low voice, “Did running into Pedro upset you a lot earlier?”

“Ah, no.” I try to smile to hide my uneasiness. “I’m...used to arguing with him.”

“I actually never fully understood why you two can’t get along. Shouldn’t all the animosity between your families stay in the baking world?”

I stare at Pedro across the room, the way he laughs and twirls Luana so many times she looks dizzy. And a nagging thought creeps up. We’ve been fighting for seventeen years. But if the feud had stayed in the bakeries, like Victor said, would Pedro have been the one to invite me to this party? If the feud had died out by now, we’d have grown up closer, living across the street from each other. I could have been the one dancing with him now.

Pedro and Luana go on dazzling everyone with their chemistry. What a beautiful couple they make. And my heart breaks into tiny pieces. A feeling I’d been smothering all night catches up to me, knocking the breath out of me, threatening to spill over.

I realize that the reason why I kept looking for Pedro when I arrived was because I wanted him to see me. To notice me, like he notices Luana.

And I hate that I feel this way.

I hate that this date... That my first date wasn’t with—

Pedro pulls Luana close to him, and she raises one of her legs against his hip. Hello, this isn’t a tango. I could never dance like that. For someone who didn’t look like he wanted to dance at first, Pedro happily spins Luana now, showing off his forró skills, their bodies moving together gracefully, so...in sync.

“Lari, are you crying?” Victor asks, surprised.

I wipe my face with my fingertips, surprised myself. “It’s probably just the smoke from the bonfire,” I try to put on a smile again, sounding a little hoarse. “My eyes are stinging a little.”

Victor looks from me to Pedro, his expression still tinged with concern. “Did I say something wrong?” he asks.

“Maybe I should leave.” I get on my feet and Victor stands, too.

“Would you like me to get you an Uber?”

“No, no... I have a cab driver who I can call.”