Sunday woke up crooked. Light slipped into my room through the gap in the curtain, a thin, irritating beam that seemed to aim straight at my forehead. I woke slowly, like someone resurfacing from a deep dive. The first thing I felt was the heaviness in my head and eyes. The second was my heart racing, as if it had woken up before I did.
And then the memories started coming back.
One after another. Without mercy.
Rafael pulling me away from Daniel.His chest pressed against my back.His arm wrapped firmly around my waist.The taxi.His jacket over my legs.The stairs I definitely didn't climb alone.The blue pajamas going in and out of the drawer.Me laughing.Me asking if he was going to stay to watch me take off my dress.
A heat shock shot through my body. My cheeks burned so fast I pressed my hands to my face on instinct, as if hiding could erase what I'd done.
My God.Had I really said that?
I closed my eyes, praying it was all just a blurry alcohol trick, but everything came back even sharper. The way Rafael turned his face away, the flush rising up to his ears, that frustration he tried to disguise… and still, he stayed. He took care of me, hung my dress on the wall hook, covered me with the blanket like I was made of glass.
I groaned into the pillow. How was I supposed to look him in the eye after that?
Why did I drink so much?And why, of all nights, did he have to show up at the bar?
I turned to the side and pulled the blanket over my entire head. The world went dark, muffled, almost comfortable. My heart kept beating too fast, as if reminding me of every possible embarrassment at once.
I stayed there for a few minutes—maybe five, maybe fifteen, I don't know. Time didn't make sense with my head throbbing like that.
Eventually, with a defeated sigh, I shoved the blanket down and sat up. The cold floor touched my feet and I took a deep breath.
I had to get up. Sooner or later, I'd have to face Rafael. Even if thinking about it made my hands sweat and the back of my neck tingle with pure panic, there was no escape.
I took a quick shower—more to wake up than to relax. The cold water down my back helped a little, but not enough to wash away the shame clogging my system. I stepped out, dried my face, and stood in front of the mirror. My makeup was all smudged, a complete disaster. I started removing everything slowly, cotton pads, cotton swabs, whatever I could find.
While I cleaned the dark mascara from my eyelids, I tried to imagine what I'd say to Rafael.Maybe it was better to delay it as long as I could. Pretend I was busy, missing, buried in tasks. Or maybe I should just apologize right away and end this torture before it grew claws.
I sighed. Nothing sounded good.
I walked to the kitchen and made strong coffee, the bitterest I could. Back in my room with the mug in hand, my phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Daniel.
My stomach dipped.
You okay? Did you get home safe? I wanted to talk to you… maybe we could meet for ice cream?
I closed my eyes for a second, my heavy head hadn't let me remember that part yet: Daniel… the way he got close…
And if it weren't for Rafael, he would've said something that would've cornered me. Something I wouldn't be able to pretend I hadn't heard. And then I'd have to say no, and that would probably break the friendship that had barely started forming.
I liked Daniel, but in the right way. And he… he was clearly walking down the wrong path.
That message reminded me of that in a very uncomfortable way.
I held my phone in both hands, stared at the message for a few seconds, biting the corner of my lip. I didn't want to be rude… he had been kind the whole time. But… yesterday made it clear that his intentions were heading somewhere I couldn't—and didn't want to—follow.
And I needed to make that clear before things became a real problem.
I thought for a moment, breathed deep, and typed slowly:
Hi, Daniel. I got home fine, thank you for asking. Yesterday I drank too much and I'm still a bit out of it. About meeting up… I think it's better not for now. I don't want to give you the wrong impression, you know? I really like our friendship and want it to stay light like this.
I read it three times before sending. It wasn't harsh or cold. But it closed the door, and I hoped he'd understand.
Sent.
I put my phone aside and dropped onto the bed, feeling my chest loosen a little—only to tighten again two seconds later.
Because obviously, there was someone else I needed to face.
And thinking about him made me want to jump out the window.
That was when I heard soft knocks on the door, almost timid, but my heart reacted as if someone had broken it down. I jumped to my feet instinctively.
I rushed to the door, took a deep breath, and opened it.
And of course… it wasn't him.
— Senhor Joaquim — I forced an immediate smile, trying to swallow the disappointment before it showed on my face. — Good morning… I mean, good afternoon… come in.
He stepped inside slowly, careful, almost asking permission from the air.
— Sorry to bother you, my girl — he said, clasping his hands behind his back. — I heard some noise and thought you might be awake. I need… a favor. If it's not too much trouble.
My posture straightened automatically.
— Of course, you can tell me.
I sat on the sofa and he settled at one end, but he took a few seconds, like someone searching for the least painful way to touch an old wound.
— Today… — he began, breathing deep — today would be Rafael's mother's birthday.
My fingers interlaced without me noticing.
— Oh…
— On this day, he always… he always closes himself even more than usual. He hides from the world. Doesn't eat, doesn't talk… just stays there, reliving things no one should relive alone.
A tightness pressed my chest so hard I had to adjust my breathing.
— I try to get close — he went on — but he doesn't let me. Maybe because he wants to spare me from seeing his pain… because he thinks he has to endure everything alone. And I… — his voice cracked for a moment — I worry. Because I know today hurts more than any other day.
I didn't say anything. I didn't know what to say. I just felt the weight of that fall onto me, along with everything else I'd already been dragging since waking up.
— I thought… — he rubbed his eyes discreetly — maybe you… could help. At least make the day a little less bitter for him. Even if just a little.
I froze.
Of all days.
On the day I had been rehearsing ways to avoid him for the rest of the month.
But how could I say no? How could I refuse a request like that, especially coming from Senhor Joaquim?
I swallowed hard.
— I… I'll try — I answered, low but firm. — I'll do what I can, Senhor Joaquim.
He breathed in relief in a way that almost hurt to watch.
— Thank you, my girl — he said, with a sad smile. — You don't know how much that means.
He stood, adjusted his shirt as he always did, and walked toward the door. Before he could open it, the question slipped out of my mouth:
— Is he home?
Senhor Joaquim turned slightly. The smile he gave me was a mix of pride, pain, and hope all at once.
— He is — he said. — But… he hasn't left the room, and he hasn't eaten anything.
I nodded slowly, my stomach tightening.
— I'll think of something — I promised.
— Just… don't tell him I asked this, all right? — he added. — He doesn't like me worrying too much.
I nodded immediately.
— Of course. It stays between us.
He seemed to release some tension from his shoulders.
He gave a small nod of gratitude and then headed down the stairs toward the ground floor.
And now?
How was I supposed to help Rafael after everything I'd done last night?How could I deal with his pain… when I could barely deal with myself?