My days were becoming increasingly full.
I still thought about everything — the morning at the hospital, the afternoon lecture, the evening seminar.
I got home late at night, but it was the silence that hit me first. A silence that wasn’t peace — it was a warning. A premonition, a subtle sign that something was about to happen. A dense kind of emptiness, spreading through the hallway like fog before a storm. I climbed the stairs slowly, feeling the weight of the day piling on my shoulders. The briefcase slipping from my hand, my blazer already wrinkled from the constant on and off, or perhaps just from being there, waiting.
It was past eleven. I had said I wouldn’t come home right after the lecture, that I might stop by the hospital. Maria Clara didn’t need to wait up, but the event ended early, and the rain changed my plans that night. Our days had been busy, hectic. What was once a promise of a peaceful life, of rest, was slowly fading into endless work.
Upstairs was dark, except for the sliver of light coming from our bedroom. The door slightly ajar — I hesitated. I felt exhausted. Simple, routine things no longer felt light. With age, everything weighs more.
“Oh, so good!” a woman’s voice, between moans, pierced through the door like a blade.A gasp. Another. The sound was wet, muffled, intimate.
At first, I was confused. The second moment — I doubted.“Ride it… that’s it, sexy, go on, go on, yeah… Ahhhh!” A man’s voice, between whispers and grunts I had never heard before, struck me.
There, in that familiar hallway, my pulse surged. A strange heat flushed through my face. My hand gripped the doorknob. Without thinking, I pushed the already open door.The scene exploded in front of me.
Bodies moved in my bed, completely immersed in darkness.
My wife straddling another man. Her disheveled brown hair stuck to her sweaty forehead. Her bare back outlining curves that used to be mine. The lilac sheet slipping down, revealing what I never imagined I’d see: her breasts heaving, exposed; her lips parted in ecstasy that no longer belonged to me.They moved together, carried by the rhythm of betrayal. Until the sound of the door slamming interrupted everything, and as I stood there, witnessing it all, I swallowed the pain, the weight of the betrayal, my hands shaking, my body sweating, despite the light rain falling outside.
She turned her face, her eyes met mine, and froze. The man, dark-skinned, younger—perhaps about ten years younger than me—muscles bulging, curly hair, gasped in shock. He pushed her aside and then sat on the bed, trying to grab his pants from the floor, but their nudity was already etched in my memory.
The digital clock on the meeting room wall read 8:07 AM when Maria Vitória pushed the door open, a folder of reports under one arm and a coffee cup in the other. Her hair tied in a practical bun, a white coat over a navy blue dress. The room was full — nurses, managers, two representatives from the newly opened public wing."Good morning, everyone," she smiled, sitting at the head of the table. "Let’s try to wrap things up before nine. I have to drop off Alana at school by ten."Everyone smiled. Dr. Xavier was known for being firm, objective, and... absolutely passionate about her children. But her husband? Everyone knew she would drop everything, without hesitation, if he called her suddenly.As she reviewed patient care charts and expansion plans for the public wing, her phone vibrated discreetly on the table. A picture appeared: Alexandre, with messy hair, jacket thrown over his shoulder, and a half-smirk, standing in front of the university.His message:"The class today was a dis
"Of course it is! And if it isn't..." I slid my hand between us, inside the robe. The gesture undid the knot with an almost symbolic ease — reckless, different, strange. "I want everything. For you to be my wife, for us to have children, grandchildren... pets, whatever you want. I want to d..."Mavi put her finger to my lips, firmly."Don't you dare say that. I accept being your wife. I'm already your wife. I want to be the mother of your children, your grandchildren... but never talk about dying, Alexandre. Never."I nodded, silent, and led her to the backseat. She lay there, looking at me as if the world were just the two of us."I accept being yours... anywhere," she whispered.I looked at her body, magnificent, natural, in a way that was only hers."You are incredibly perfect... and you can be the mother of my children."She pulled me by the collar of my shirt, urgently."Fuck me first, praise me later," she said quickly, hungrily.I laughed, moving closer to her mouth."You look
After Maria Clara’s arrest, things finally began to settle down. She was transferred to a prison almost immediately. No one explained why, but Dr. Caroline told me—her expression more serious than usual—that Maria Clara had been classified as extremely dangerous, even to other inmates.I was trying to get back to my life: studies, internship. My mother returned to her work. Aunt Lena came to spend the weekend with us, but I knew it wasn’t just a visit. At night, she disappeared, as always. And this time, I didn’t follow.My father was surprisingly focused during those days. He shared the hospital’s management with Alexandre, and they even hired a temporary surgeon to cover some shifts. He seemed determined to keep everything running, as if trying to prove something—maybe to himself.That night, I stepped outside and found them there: my father and Alexandre, sitting under the amber light, drinking whiskey and discussing hospital expenses.I approached slowly. I knew that, between them
As much as I was worried about Maria Vitória, even knowing she was represented by highly competent lawyers, there was a deeper unease gnawing at me.Maria Clara was still out there.There were checkpoints on the roads. Increased surveillance at the bus station.All access points were being monitored.But nothing. No trace of her.When I was informed that Maria Vitória had claimed self-defense, the case flipped completely.The eyes of Justice shifted.So did public attention.She was no longer seen as a reckless criminal—but as someone who had survived.From that moment on, I stopped worrying about her, at least from a legal standpoint.Caroline had prepared her masterfully. Even more so with the investigation now open against Marcelo for the brutal attack on Laura.He was officially a fugitive. A dangerous man.And Maria Vitória… a victim.But my own torment had not ended.When we reviewed the building’s security footage, I felt my blood run cold.Maria Clara was clearly seen entering
My heartbeat was erratic.Marcelo and I pulled the trigger almost at the same time — his finger pressing down on mine, trying to force me to shoot.But the bullet… it wasn’t meant for me.When his body trembled beneath mine, a lump rose in my throat.His hand weakened over mine.“Maria Vitória… Maria…” I heard Alexandre behind me, voice choked, arms trying to pull me away.But it was too late. Far too late.I pulled the trigger again.Once. Twice. Three. Four times.On the fifth, the gun jammed.It wouldn’t fire anymore.Still, I stayed there. Shaking.I didn’t want to see my mother afraid anymore. Always scared.I didn’t want to change cities again.I didn’t want to live in fear.“Maria Vitória?” his voice echoed in my ear.The sound of the door opening hit me like a distant wave. But I didn’t turn around.I was frozen. In shock.Silently confessing everything I had done.“Give me that!” Alexandre tried to pull the gun from my hand.“No!” I shouted, gripping it fiercely.“I won’t let
It had been a wonderful night. We didn’t make love like we did the other times—this time there was no rush, no urgency—because we knew it wasn’t the last time anymore. We intertwined our bodies in a slow, delicious act with no set end.I fell asleep with Maria Vitória in my arms as she talked about the harsh cuts her new advisor had made to her thesis. I told her she should publish the research after her defense—with my review.Seeing her eyes shine in the darkness of the room gave me a certainty: we were starting over. I didn’t know how long it would last, but I wanted it to be good while it did.She left early. She had an internship. And even though it was hard to let her leave the bed, she was... admirably responsible as she reached the door.The morning light crept shyly through the curtains. The sun hadn’t warmed enough to take the chill from my chest. I sat on the edge of the bed, shirtless, phone in hand.Mavi’s message still glowed on the screen:“He called me. Said he’s going