4.

ACCIDENT

What happened at the auction was the decline of everything for Arabella . At home, she looked around and began to question whether all those years had really been worth it, including whether it had been worth running away with him, leaving even her family behind.

Frustrated, she suddenly got up from the bed and began pacing back and forth in the room. The situation was getting out of hand. There was an agreement with Fernando, but he seemed to be ignoring it completely.

Was her husband in a relationship with his secretary, hiding behind the pregnancy to justify it? The thought sank in deep, and desperation overwhelmed her.

That morning, she made a decision. She got dressed as always, with that discreet elegance that characterized her, and went to the living room. She stood motionless in front of the large painting hanging on the wall. Seeing it there, so present, hurt her more than ever. Her husband was no longer the same, and that painting felt like a hanging lie in the middle of their home.

Arabella  contemplated it one last time before taking it down. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. That painting was her most treasured work, a portrait of Fernando in his youth. Every stroke had been made with love, with tenderness, with the hope of a woman in love.

How could she not love him back then? At that time, Fernando was going through his worst moments, and she, in silence, had sold that painting to help him financially. When he found out, he swore to himself that one day he would get that painting back. And he did. Years later, with some stability and money, he came home with it in his arms, hung it on the main wall, and took care of it as if it were a treasure.

But that morning, Arabella  knew that painting no longer deserved that place. She took it to an art exhibition being held in the city. Some of the attendees knew her, they knew the story behind that piece, and they were surprised to see it exhibited. After all, Arabella  had always said she would never sell it.

Many approached her to ask the reasons for her unexpected decision, but Arabella  only responded with a slight smile, arguing that she was doing it for a good cause; the funds raised would be donated entirely to charity. She didn't want to give any more explanations.

"You have talent," a deep voice said behind her, immediately catching her attention.

Arabella  turned with natural elegance and observed him. In front of her, a tall man, with an imposing presence, a perfectly tailored suit, and a look that exuded mystery. His features were sharp, his demeanor elegant, and his expression as cold as ice.

"Thank you, sir," she replied, choosing her words carefully.

"I'll take the painting. Make sure they package it," he ordered without hesitation.

Arabella  looked at him intently, intrigued.

"Are you aware of the price?"

"I'll take it," he repeated with the same firmness, not bothering to ask for figures, not showing the slightest surprise at the high value of the work.

But it wasn't his confidence or his nonchalance about money that impacted her the most. It was his dark and profound gaze. There was something in his eyes that Arabella  couldn't immediately decipher.

On her way home, while driving, Arabella  received a message from Mariana. She hit the steering wheel hard, a prisoner of frustration, but couldn't resist opening it. The images were devastating. Mariana was wearing a beautiful white dress, and Fernando an elegant groom's suit. They were holding hands in front of a church, radiant, like a couple in love.

"Shit!" she cursed as she read the message.

"Fernando really loves me. With you, he just has a commitment, a simple responsibility from years of marriage. But I am his true love."

Her eyes blurred, and she let go of the steering wheel without realizing that the traffic light had changed. The accident was inevitable.

A deafening beep filled her ears. She could barely move her head, dazed, as a man got out of the other car and approached furiously.

"You're crazy! Look what you did to my car! Are you drunk or something?"

Arabella  struggled to stay conscious. Everything was spinning. With great effort, she grabbed her phone and dialed Fernando's number to ask for help.

The call connected.

"Fernando... Fernando, are you there?" she asked in desperation.

But the line went dead. She dialed again. This time, the phone sounded off.

"Fernando..."

She bit her lips, aware that she was about to pass out. With the last glimmer of lucidity, her trembling fingers dialed the emergency number. She managed to stammer a request for help just before falling completely unconscious.

Meanwhile, Mariana held Fernando's phone in her hand, her expression cold and calculating.

"Mariana, who was calling?"

"No one." She placed the phone on the table. Fernando turned it on and realized that she had answered a call from Arabella  and then turned the phone off. He felt a hint of concern.

"Why did you hang up?" he asked, confused.

Mariana approached him tenderly and stroked his face.

"Fernando, you promised me that this day would be just for the two of us." She pouted, and he, with affection, adjusted the wedding veil that hung over her head.