Eduardo spent the entire day at the office, but his mind was elsewhere.
Elisa.
The image of her, standing at the bedroom door, watching him and Sophia in bed, haunted him. Cecília had made it clear: she saw everything.
And he... couldn't remember any of it.
Sophia's words kept repeating in his head:
"You pulled me close... and it felt natural."
But that didn't seem like him.
And even if it were true...
Why did he feel so dirty?
He finished work early. He drove to the penthouse without thinking much. His heart beat with a strange weight in his chest... it wasn't just guilt. It was urgency.
He wanted to see her.
He wanted to tell her that... he couldn't explain, but he needed her to believe him.
------
Elisa was in the living room when he entered. She wore light linen pants and a loose blouse, her hair tied in a simple bun, face bare.
But there was no serenity.
Just an empty... gaze.
Eduardo stopped in front of her. He took a deep breath.
I need to talk to you.
She looked at him firmly.
You don't need to, Eduardo. Everything is resolved.
It's not.
Yes, it is... she said, calmly. ...You love each other. You and Sophia. It was always her. I was just an obstacle in the way. But now I'm not anymore.
Elisa... ...he took a step forward, confused... you think I planned that? That I did it on purpose?
It doesn't matter if it was on purpose. You let it happen. You let her into your routine, your bed, your world. You gave her space.
He frowned.
I don't remember. I swear. I wasn't drunk. I was tired. She was there... she lay down with me, yes. But... I didn't want this. Not like this.
But it happened. And that's enough.
He remained silent for a moment. Then, his voice came out drier:
So that's it? You're going to walk out the door as if nothing happened?
I already left, Eduardo. That night. When I saw you with her. When I realized that everything I did, everything I erased myself to be... was never enough.
Don't play the martyr.
She laughed, without humor.
I'm not a martyr. I'm just a woman... who's tired. Tired of waiting to be seen. Desired. Chosen.
The silence between them grew heavy.
He didn't know what to say.
Then she was direct:
I want a divorce.
It sounded like a gunshot in his ears.
What?
It's what's best for both of us.
He stood motionless, as if the words made no sense.
Elisa, it hasn't even been a year.
I know. But...
No. ...His voice hardened. ...It's not over. We still have a contract. And you will respect that.
She stood up, calm but firm.
What else will this contract guarantee, Eduardo? More nights with others? More silence between us? More of your absence? More of my loneliness?
You're being dramatic.
And you're being a coward. Unable to admit that you don't know what you feel. That you don't know what you want.
He breathed deeply, trying to contain his anger.
Wait until the end of the year. After that... do what you want. But not now.
She faced him with teary eyes, but without weakness.
Fine. We'll wait. But understand this: I'm not yours anymore.
And maybe... I never was.
And she left the room, her heart in pieces, but her spine straight.
------
Eduardo stood still, staring into emptiness.
The only thing he could feel was a pain in his stomach that couldn't be soothed with logic.
Or with pride.
Or with the damned contract.
He went upstairs to the bedroom, glanced over the space where he'd slept with Sophia... or been drugged, or seduced, or manipulated... and his disgust grew.
For the first time, he felt he had lost something important.
But he didn't know if it was because of love... or wounded ego.
And that consumed him even more.