Episode 4

The alarm clock rang at six in the morning, as always. But on that Tuesday, the sound seemed harsher, as if tearing my soul from the bed along with my body. I got up in silence, took a shower, put on my impeccable black suit, and tied my hair with surgical precision. Every gesture of mine was a shield. Every movement, an armor.

I looked at my cell phone.

Three missed calls from Hugo.

And a message:

"Helena, I'm sorry. Please let me explain."

I deleted it without replying. Without hesitating.

On the way to the office, another notification.

"I know yesterday was a disaster, but you need to know that I don't agree with anything my parents said."

I blocked the notifications.

It wasn't pride. It was self-preservation.

I arrived at my office before everyone else. I turned on the computer, immersed myself in the cases on my desk, and spent the first hours of the day as a reasoning machine. Rational, focused, invincible.

That's what I knew I had to be.

During the coffee break, another message from an unknown number. I knew it was him. Hugo trying to reach me through any crack.

"Helena, if you block me in every way, I'll show up in person. Tell me you're okay. That's all."

I thought about replying. But what would I say?

"I'm fine, thanks for letting me be humiliated by your mother"?

No. Better silence. Silence has always protected more than words.

During lunch, while my colleagues were talking about a new legal project, I pretended to be interested. I smiled here and there. Inside, a silent revolt was burning. It wasn't just anger. It was disappointment. It was the bitter taste of having, once again, believed in something that didn't exist.

At the end of the afternoon, another call. I didn't answer.

Another message:

"You make me want to be better. Don't give up on me."

But I had already given up. Not on Hugo. On believing that someone like him—born with a silver spoon in his mouth, surrounded by ambitions and family agreements—could have the courage to choose me, despite everything.

I arrived home exhausted. I took off my shoes, let my hair down, and let the dress slip to the floor. I looked at myself in the living room mirror.

The respected lawyer.

The forgotten orphan.

The wounded woman.

I was all of that.

And, once again, I was alone.

The cell phone vibrated on the nightstand. Hugo didn't give up. But I... had already given up for both of us.

And then I turned off the device. And turned off the light.

Two months have passed.

It seems that Hugo has finally stopped insisting, Cibele Albuquerque must have returned to Brazil.

But as you can’t live running away from unexpected events, here I am again, facing an unpleasant situation.

The main hall of the luxurious hotel in Sao Paulo was crowded. Men and women of the elite paraded in impeccable attire, as if each step were worth a contract signing. It was a night of power, alliances, and business. The International Investment Convention brought together the country's most influential families, as well as renowned businessmen and prestigious lawyers.

I was there on my own merit.

I wore an elegant black dress, with an impeccable cut that conveyed seriousness and strength. My posture was firm, my gaze determined. I was there to represent one of my most important clients—a multi-million dollar contract that could elevate my career to a new level.

But not even the brilliance of success was enough to erase the discomfort I felt as soon as I stepped into the hall.

From a distance, my eyes landed on a figure that my heart recognized even before my reason could process it.

Hugo Xavier.

He was next to Cibele Albuquerque, stunning in a red dress that seemed to have been made to make any woman feel invisible next to her. Hugo's smile was the same—that damn smile that once made me believe in empty promises. His arm rested casually on Cibele's waist, as if the past between us had never existed. As if I were just another shadow in his path.

My heart tightened for a moment. But my face... remained impassive.

I had already gotten over that. Or, at least, that's what I repeated to myself whenever his name came to my mind.

With firm steps, I crossed the hall. I greeted acquaintances, exchanged polite smiles, kept my head up. But the air around me seemed denser. It was as if invisible eyes were piercing my back, as if the past were there, watching me. Testing me.

But I wouldn't back down.

Not for him. Not for anyone.

I discreetly withdrew from the hall, feeling the tension grow in my chest. I had already greeted the names that mattered, delivered diplomatic smiles and firm handshakes. But, inside, something throbbed—a restlessness difficult to contain.

At that moment Hugo sees Helena.

As soon as my eyes met Helena crossing the hall, my world stopped for a moment.

She was stunning.

The black dress highlighted her curves with elegance, her hair tied in a sophisticated bun made her face even more imposing. She looked like a goddess in the midst of that crowd of manufactured faces. And, at the same time, she seemed unattainable.

Cibele, next to me, was saying something to my mother and Eunice, but I wasn't listening. My focus was on Helena. My heart raced. The guilt, like a weight on my shoulders, reappeared with full force.

She saw me.

But she pretended not to.

Her gaze passed through me as if I were invisible. And that hurt more than any word spoken that night when my mother humiliated her.

I got up, leaving Cibele and the others at the table with any excuse, and crossed the hall to her.

"Helena" I called, with a contained smile, trying to hide the tension in my chest.

She turned her face, staring at me coldly. But she was even more beautiful up close.

"You look… wonderful tonight" I complimented, sincere.

"Thank you" she replied, with the neutral expression of someone who had learned not to let feelings show.

I swallowed hard.

"I need to say… I'm sorry. For what my mother and father did to you that night. I deeply regret not having defended you as you deserved. I… was weak."

She let out a short, humorless laugh.

"No, Hugo. You were exactly who you always were. And that's okay. That night served as a great learning experience. It made me stronger, more attentive. It reminded me that trusting someone too much can be costly."

"I never wanted to hurt you" I murmured.

"But you did." She looked me in the eye with a cutting calm. "But it's over. It's in the past."

"Helena, listen… about Cibele… that's not what it seems. She and I are just fulfilling a professional agreement between the families. I don't love her. I never loved her."

She took a deep breath, and I swear that for a second I saw something shine in her eyes. But it soon disappeared.

"I wish you both luck. I hope this professional agreement works" she said, in a polite tone. "Really."

"Please, listen to me..." I insisted, wanting to say more, wanting to shout what I felt.

But she was already taking a step to the side, about to walk away.

"There's nothing more to be said, Hugo. I got over it. And now you need to do the same."

And before I could touch her, hold her, beg for a second chance… she turned her back and walked away with the same firm and elegant posture as always.

Leaving behind the only woman who, really, made me want to be a better person.

And now… it was too late.

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