It had been almost a week since I arrived in Pierowall, and I had to admit I was feeling happy. Despite the cold, which could be quite uncomfortable at times, there were so many positive aspects to this experience that I was starting to feel very content with the decision to move to a remote island in the north of Scotland. I had never lived alone before; I left my parents' home at eighteen to move in directly with Oliver, with whom I had already been for three years at that time.

My big dream had always been to study journalism, but life decided it had other plans for me. Oliver, who was 24 at the time, worked for a large marketing company and after a promotion, he started traveling a lot for work. At first, the idea of accompanying him on his trips to Spain while he had meetings with clients sounded exciting. But over time, I realized I was losing my own life, feeling like my existence revolved around him and his schedule.

At twenty, we had a big argument because I wanted to stay alone for a week when he was traveling to Barcelona to present a project. Oliver simply didn't understand why I needed that time for myself. Did he suspect I wanted to cheat on him? In the end, I gave in and went with him. That's when I started neglecting important things, like my career. I never found time to study, or sometimes I couldn't even attend exams because we were out of town.

My friendships also faded away, replaced by Oliver's friendships. Only Vir remained by my side. Now, with hindsight, I realized I had given up my entire life for a man who, under the guise of "taking care of you," only wanted to control me.

Facing the idea of living alone after so many years under his shadow was scary. But the worst part was when I started looking for an apartment in Madrid. The city was terribly expensive! And the idea of going back to my parents' house was not appealing at all. Fortunately, Vir did me the huge favor of taking me into her home, helping me heal, and, above all, opening my eyes to all those little things that I hadn't been able to see before because I was so focused on Oliver.

My relationship with him wasn't as healthy as I thought; it was quite dependent, and Oliver turned out to be more toxic than I had imagined, although I didn't want to or didn't know how to see it.

Thanks to Vir, I got a job in her company. She worked in a publishing house and offered me one of those jobs that nobody wanted, but I loved it. I was in charge of being the first filter for the editors. Every time someone sent a manuscript, my task was to read it and make an initial assessment of whether it was worth having someone more experienced read it. Also, if the assessment wasn't positive, I was the one who had to meet with the author and explain where the major flaws were, give some recommendations, and pray they didn't throw the book in my face.

It wasn't a very exciting or well-paid job, but it allowed me to save money and discover some writers whom I hoped to see on the bestseller list soon.

After nine months of working and saving as much as I could, I finally saved up enough money to go to Pierowall and work remotely, at least for a while. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do in the long term: whether to return to Madrid or get lost on that island for longer. The idea was starting to become quite appealing to me, not only because of Erik, but also because Madrid was a city where everyone was always rushing, where there was never time to listen to the silence, and the rhythms were always marked.

That week in Pierowall had possibly been the most peaceful of my entire life, where the only thing that really mattered was what I wanted to do at every moment, regardless of what the world wanted me to do.

Like every morning, just at Vir's break time, around half past ten in Spain, half past nine in Pierowall, my phone rang.

—Where's my favorite northerner? —she asked as soon as I picked up the phone.

—Getting ready to leave, —I smiled as I packed up my laptop and notebook into my bag.

—Off to the lighthouse again? —she asked, a mix of joy and teasing in her tone.

—Writing with the sound of the sea in the background is incredibly relaxing. Plus, I have to submit a report before I start writing, —I explained.

—Have your holidays ended already?

—Yes, I only took a week. I have a meeting with Ruben this afternoon, let's see what he has for me. Hopefully, it's not more stories about handsome mobsters kidnapping young girls who end up completely in love with the guy who could kill them while they shower, —I grimaced, and Virginia laughed.

—What's up with the new generation of writers and mobsters? —she asked. Being in the higher levels of the publishing house, she received manuscripts in a much more filtered manner than I did, having to read everything mercilessly.

—I wish I knew, —I sighed as I took the phone to the bathroom to prop it up on the sink and comb my hair.

—How about your book? Any progress? —she asked, interested.

—No. I'm drawing a blank. Everything seems too clichéd, childish, or uninteresting, —I said as I brushed my hair—. Erik left me some books to skim through, but they're all in English, and, as you can imagine, I don't understand a thing.

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—Well, don't stress. Are you getting better with the language?

—A bit. He's teaching me basic expressions. At least I know how to order a coffee now, —I laughed as I returned to the room to grab a wool jacket to keep me warm, as it was cold at the lighthouse, although Erik's dining room was quite warm thanks to the fireplace.

—When are you going to introduce him to me? —she asked innocently. I glanced at the phone screen, and Vir must have laughed at my expression—. Oh, come on, you've been glued to him for a week. It wouldn't be strange for you to introduce me to your new friend.

—I'm not glued to him, —I defended myself.

—You spend more time at his house than yours, —she countered.

—But he's at the lighthouse, doing lighthouse things, not sitting beside me. Theoretically, I'm alone, —I continued to defend myself.

—In any case, he picks you up in the mornings, you spend the whole day there, and he drops you off at home in the evenings with a kiss on the forehead. Next thing you know, he'll be giving you one on the lips and eventually you'll move in together.

—Vir! That's not true. He doesn't give me kisses on the forehead, he's not going to kiss me, and I'm not going to live with him. Don't be so dramatic, —I pleaded, trying to steer the conversation away.

—I'm just saying I don't want you to repeat the same pattern as with Oliver... you went there to find your own space, and you're spending too much time with him. It's okay to be alone, in your house, without the redhead lurking a few meters away.

Was my best friend right? Unknowingly, was I repeating the pattern of not knowing how to be alone?

—As I said, I have a meeting with Ruben this afternoon, so I'll have to come home soon, —I said as an excuse.

—Don't be mad at me, Andy. I'm just trying to prevent you from suffering again. You're a very sweet and affectionate person, and people immediately feel good around you, and you, you get attached very quickly, —she explained softly—. Take some time for yourself before bringing anyone new into your life.

I blushed and rolled my eyes.

—You're talking about the situation as if something were happening between us. Really, there's nothing, we're just friends. This island is very small, the weather is horrible… —I fell silent for a moment upon hearing the sound of the motor outside. — I have to go, I'll tell you later. Take care! —I said goodbye to her.

I quickly put on my boots, grabbed my coat, my bag with my things, and went outside, where Erik was waiting inside his van with his usual smile.

—Buenos días, Andy, —he said in almost perfect Spanish. He had also learned a few words; he was good with languages, infinitely better than me.

—Good morning, —I replied cheerfully, getting into the car, grateful that the heating was on.

—Did you sleep well? —he asked, and I nodded, fastening my seatbelt. It was starting to drizzle, and the day seemed quite gray.

—Good. And you? You looks tired, —I said, looking at him.

He sighed and shrugged.

—Electrical system problems, —he said briefly, setting off towards the lighthouse. —Do you have homework today? —he asked, wanting to know if I had finished the book I told him about yesterday, and I nodded.

—Yes. I finish the book, but I need to write a report, —I said, looking displeased. —Bad marks. It's never good, —I clicked my tongue, but his smile cheered me up a little more.

As we arrived at the lighthouse, the wind began to blow stronger than in the bay. Erik parked closer than usual, I assumed so we wouldn't get too wet. When I got out of the car, I saw him running towards the entrance to hold it open when I arrived. I entered his dining room and quickly approached the fireplace, seeking warmth without even taking off my coat.

—It's so cold! —Erik complained. I turned to look at him and couldn't help but laugh.

—If you say it's cold, it's very cold, —I said, stepping away from the fireplace, leaving my bag on the sofa. Then, I took off my coat as Erik went to prepare a couple of cups of freshly made hot coffee.

—Have you had breakfast? —he asked me. I shook my head; truth be told, I hadn't had time.

I sat at the round wooden table by the kitchen, where I usually worked with my laptop. Erik placed a cup of milky coffee in front of me and took some cookies from the cupboard, bringing them over.

—Oh, don't worry, —I said quickly.

—You need fuel to get your brain working, —he winked and glanced out the window upon hearing some voices outside—. I'll be right back, —he said, leaving the house. I looked out the window and saw a car parking in front of the lighthouse.

I took a butter cookie and delved into my files, searching for the document I needed for the report on the book I had just read. I had to have everything ready before the meeting in the afternoon.

"I'm just saying I don't want you to repeat the same pattern as with Oliver..."

Virginia's voice echoed in my head, and I sighed. Was she really right? Had I gotten used to someone's company too quickly?

"Genial," I grumbled in Spanish, taking advantage of being alone. "I'll work in my damn empty living room. But tomorrow," I decided, because since I was there, I wasn't going to leave so quickly.