Chapter 10

Emily

I ran as fast as I could from that place. I’d been stupid enough to go there in the first place—it served me right.

Even from a distance, I could see the resemblance: the same hair color and Carla’s round face. That damn bastard!

“Emy?” I heard the shouts. “Emily!” I turned just in time to see Bete running toward me across the parking lot. “I can’t believe it’s you, you big jerk! Where’ve you been, and why didn’t you come see me?” she yelled, still not close enough to reach me.

“When did you get here?” I managed to say before our bodies collided. After Bianca, she was the only person in this town I still kept in touch with. “Why didn’t you tell me you were back?”

“You didn’t exactly tell me you were coming back either. And returning to this town isn’t exactly exciting news to spread around.”

“Trust me, I know. What did you do to your hair?” I stared at her locks, once constantly dyed a natural red, now back to their real blonde. “Let’s get out of here before Bia sees me and drags me back inside!” I said, already pulling her by the arm, but her feet stayed planted.

“I can’t. I’m working here.” I froze the moment the words left her mouth.

Since she married a businessman, a friend of her father’s, she’d vanished from the town just like I had. The fact that she was working shocked me. Bete had always lived the easy life, first off her parents, then her husband.

“What do you mean, working here? What the hell happened that you didn’t tell me about?” I snapped, ready to shake her for keeping things from me.

“I need to get back in there. Come with me, and I’ll tell you everything,” she said softly, which meant something really bad. I stared at the big doors leading to the packed hall where the show was going on. I didn’t want to go back there, not at all. The thought of running into him again gave me chills. “You don’t have to stay in the hall. You can stay in the kitchen with me.” Her eyes pleaded for me to come. “Please.”

“Fine, but you’re telling me everything, down to the last detail, no dodging,” I said as I let her lead me to the back of the big warehouse.

“You’ve got a lot to tell me too, missy. When I heard you were back, I thought it was just a joke,” she muttered, clinging to my arm. I wished it was all just a joke.

“I wouldn’t have believed it myself if someone told me I’d be back. But you? Back in São Fernando? What kind of mess happened in your life to leave you with no other options?”

“My parents went bankrupt.” She dropped the bomb, as always, no sugarcoating.

Bete paused as we entered the club’s kitchen, which gave me a moment to try to process how that could’ve happened. They’d been filthy rich my whole life. A family fortune didn’t just vanish overnight.

“How?”

“It happened years ago, even before I married Benjamin.”

“Wait, hold on!” I shouted, drawing the attention of everyone around us. There were about twenty people, men and women, rushing around with trays and drinks. “Why didn’t you tell me back then?” I finished, lowering my voice.

“Because you were caught up in your own mess. You didn’t need to worry about mine,” she said quickly, balancing more glasses on her tray. “I’ll be right back,” she murmured, then darted through the doors into the crowded hall.

She was right. I’d gone months without talking to anyone, buried in my own world and problems in São Paulo. It took me a long time to reconnect with her.

“Bete, I’m sorry. I had no idea. I’m really sorry,” I said repeatedly when she returned to the kitchen.

“It’s fine. The mess is still there either way. Benjamin’s a spoiled daddy’s boy who did nothing but sink his father’s company. Now I’m truly screwed,” she said as if it was no big deal.

“But what about your parents? His parents?” I asked, trying to understand how two wealthy families could fall apart in five years. “And you?”

“My parents and he lied about the real situation, so there wasn’t much I could do when I found out because it was already too late. They made a lot of risky investments and didn’t see that everything we had was going down the drain,” she explained, balancing more beer-filled glasses on her tray. “His parents died when he was a kid, Emy. He never worked or studied, so he’s just a smug little punk.”

“You’re really pissed at him, that’s obvious. Is he at least working to help you?” I asked, imagining that for Bete to be working, things had to be bad with no chance of improving soon.

“I don’t know where he is or what he’s doing. I just hope he’s in the depths of hell!” she growled, slamming a beer bottle onto the tray. “Look, you need to understand,” she began when she saw my shocked expression. “I married him because we were broke. We needed the money, and he was the closest idiot available.”

Bete winked and ran back into the crowd, leaving me with a stunned expression.

When your best friend tells you since childhood that she’ll marry a filthy rich guy because a successful man is all that matters, you might not believe her. But if Elizabete says it, she’ll do it.

As much as I believed in true love, Bete didn’t. Who could blame her? With parents like hers, it was hard to grow up and keep those little things intact inside you.

I pulled her into a hug, unsure who needed it more—me or her. I’d been through a lot these past years, but now I saw I wasn’t the only one with a completely messed-up life.

“Where are you even living?” I asked, worried.

“Me! I’m living! At my grandma’s house, remember? She left it to me. It’s the only thing I’ve got left. I’m broke and divorced from both my parents and my husband. At least I have this job. It’d be much worse without it,” she answered with her usual resilience. Her approach to life was full throttle; “you can achieve anything if you go for it” was her motto. But her expression shifted the next moment when she asked, “And you? Why’d you come back to town? I thought you were more afraid of this place than the devil himself.”

“My dad. But I already wish I’d left. Things aren’t easy,” I grumbled, not wanting to think about what I had to face at home.

“Yeah, Mr. Miguel’s been a handful for a while now, no offense. Good thing Marcos helps him out whenever he can… Oops.” Bete dropped the bomb just before running back out of the kitchen.

I knew she’d done it on purpose. Bete had a knack for perfect timing, especially when she wanted to say something the other person didn’t want to hear.

Marcos had no right to meddle in my life, especially not with my dad, when he was clearly the reason I’d left town. All I wanted was to erase him from my memory, to go back to that damn day I let him take me home and wipe it out completely.

“I think I’d better go. It’s getting late, and my dad must be awake…” I tried to make an excuse when she returned.

The truth was, the night had already been too much for me. It felt like I was stuck in a movie where the main character’s life could always get worse.

“No, don’t go now, it’s early. I know you don’t want to hear about him, but you were bound to cross paths eventually when he checks on your dad,” she reasoned. “I don’t know what happened between you two. You never told anyone why you left town like that, and he doesn’t like to talk about it either.” She was right. Once again that night, she was showing me that I was the only one who’d turned my back on all my friends and family. “I’m here. When you need to talk, you know where to find me.”

Bete kissed my cheek and set me free again, to give in to my urge to run when things got too hard to handle.

And I did. I ran outside as my thoughts ate away at my mind and the memories h

aunted me with everything I’d left behind.