I didn’t have those answers, but I knew with absolute certainty the exact instant when everything had worsened — when it had turned into a shapeless mass crushing my nerves and everything I was: the night I had the stupid idea of meeting Fabrício the week before.
Neither Enrico nor I had spoken about it since. But everything that happened that night was still there, watching us from the corner of its eye, pressing in simply by existing.
And now there I was, eating myself alive inside, trying to convince myself that what I was feeling was just passing irritation — until I noticed a mother, elegant and visibly interested, approaching Enrico with a smile that was far too warm.
My smile died instantly. My entire body tensed. And before I could stop myself, I was staring as she touched Enrico’s arm while laughing at something he’d said.
Rage exploded inside me — fierce and completely irrational.
Elis seemed to notice the sudden change in my expression and gave me a curious look.
“Are you okay, Valentina?”
I took a deep breath, trying to mask my discomfort, though it was impossible to hide completely.
“I’m great,” I replied quickly, without taking my eyes off Enrico. “I just remembered something I need to take care of. Excuse me for a moment, Elis.”
Without waiting for a response, I crossed the gym, driven by an impulse I couldn’t control. I stopped a few meters away, waiting for Enrico to notice me.
It only took seconds for him to lift his gaze and meet mine. His brow furrowed slightly when he saw my irritated expression. Then he politely disengaged from the conversation and walked toward me.
“Is everything okay?” he asked carefully, keeping his voice low to avoid drawing attention.
I crossed my arms, trying to appear indifferent, though my expression betrayed my irritation.
“Everything’s fine. You seem to be having a great time,” I replied, coldly.
He looked surprised for a moment before understanding what had triggered my reaction. A faint, almost satisfied smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
“Valentina… are you jealous?” he asked lightly, but there was something deeper in his eyes — something that made my heart race violently: hope.
I stepped back, my face heating instantly.
“Of course not. I just think you should be more focused on our daughter’s presentation and less on… socializing.”
He took a slow breath and stepped closer, dangerously reducing the distance between us. His voice dropped, rough and meaningful.
“I was being polite. If it bothered you, you could’ve just said so.”
I lifted my eyes to meet his, my anger now tangled with embarrassment and something far harder to admit.
“It didn’t bother me,” I lied blatantly, stepping back again. “Do whatever you want. It has nothing to do with me.”
Enrico nodded, but the gleam in his eyes made it clear he knew exactly what I was feeling.
I turned away quickly, retreating before that conversation could reveal more than I’d already exposed.
As I walked away, I realized how irrational and contradictory my reaction had been. I didn’t want to feel jealous. I didn’t want to care who he talked to or who showed interest in him. After all, I had sworn I would never forgive him.
And yet, seeing another woman interested in him — smiling and talking so freely — stirred something inside me I thought had been buried and dead for a long time.
And worst of all was admitting to myself that I had absolutely no control over it.
That realization unsettled me, leaving me even more insecure and confused about everything happening inside me.
Still flushed and unsettled, I left the gym, determined to get some air. I crossed the parking lot with firm steps as anger gave way to a confusing blend of emotions.
As soon as I reached the open space, I heard fast, determined footsteps behind me. Before I could draw the deep breath I needed, Enrico’s intense voice reached me, stopping me cold.
