I stopped at the door of the studio before even touching the handle.It was instinctive, like my own body had decided to become a barrier.Rafael stopped too, still holding the bag his father had packed.I held out my hand.
— Give me that.
He didn't hand it over right away.He stood there, looking at me as if trying to decipher something.For a second I thought he might insist, but I kept my hand out, steady, even though my stomach was a tight knot.
He finally gave me the bag, but I didn't give him even a breath of time.
— And the spare key — I said, direct. — I want it back.
His expression shifted.He slipped a hand into the pocket of his shorts, slow, pulling out the keychain.The clink of metal felt too loud in the air.
— You know I would never come in here without a reason — he said, eyes locked on mine.
— I know — I answered. And I really did. — But even so… the key stays with me.
He was silent for a second.Then he pulled the key from the keychain, separating it carefully, without rushing.Maybe waiting to see if I'd change my mind.I didn't.
He placed the key in my hand.The cold metal against my skin brought a strange kind of relief.
— Done — he murmured.
I nodded, gripping the bag and the key.
— Thanks for helping with the bag — I said, polite in a way that didn't match what I actually felt. — Good night.
I turned and slipped inside before any part of me could falter.Closed the door, pressed my forehead against the wood.
I put the containers in the fridge one by one, feeling warmth gather in my chest.The landlord really was a good man, attentive.All that food would make my week so much easier that I almost laughed at myself—me, complaining about life, when someone was literally taking care of details that weren't his job at all.
I shut the fridge door... and of course, the memory came.Rafael.As if my brain took pleasure in dragging forward the one thing I didn't want to deal with.
For a moment, I wondered if I'd been too harsh.If I had gone too far or if he really deserved the wall I had put up.
But one deeper breath, and I remembered the way he pushed me away, the silence when I needed him to say something—anything.I wasn't punishing him.I was just… protecting myself.Finally.
I shook my head as if I could dislodge his name from it and went straight to my room before some stupid thought decided to take root.Then my phone vibrated.Evelyn.
I answered immediately, more out of reflex than desire.
— Girl, are you alive? — she started, without even inhaling. — Did your legs recover from last night?
— I'm fine — I said, trying to sound convincing. — Just tired.
— Tired? — she scoffed. — Helena… what was that guy doing sitting on your stairs last night? I almost had a heart attack in the taxi.
My stomach tightened.I sighed.
— It's nothing — I said, rummaging in the drawer until I found my softest pajamas. — He's the son of the man who lives on the ground floor. The owner of the place.
A short silence followed, then an indignant groan.
— You're joking. That weird guy? — Evelyn paused dramatically, like I was about to confess I lived above a serial killer. — He did not look like someone trustworthy.
I frowned, but didn't argue. Not worth it.
— From what I know about him… he seems like a good guy — I murmured, even knowing how that sounded.
— You're too innocent, Helena. You think everyone is good. But if that were true, there wouldn't be so many rumors about him.
I swallowed.Rumors. Always rumors.
— It's fine — I cut in, firmer. — Really. But I need to sleep, tomorrow's going to be heavy.
— Fine, fine… rest then. Text me in the morning.
— I will. Good night.
— Good night — she said, still suspicious.
I hung up.
I put on my pajamas, and the soft fabric brought a small but real peace, like it was telling me I could, yes, switch off.I needed sleep… needed a rested body for tomorrow.Needed focus.
But sleep didn't come fast.My body wanted the bed, but my mind kept spinning.I don't know how long I tossed around, but it was long enough to hear the gate creak and Rafael leaving.
Always him.
Anger at myself, at him, at everything.
I got up, grabbed a glass of water, and pulled the curtain just enough to peek at the street.Stayed there a bit, watching the shadows, the quiet, the warm night air brushing the window.I needed to sleep.
I turned off the bedroom light and got back in bed, ignoring the weight sitting stubborn at the back of my chest.
This time, sleep finally won.