3. Nilza tells her secret

Doubts torment me and sleep eludes me. I get out of bed and walk downstairs to the kitchen in a daze. Without thinking, I put the glass of water somewhere, and the sound of breaking glass echoes through the house. Worried, I mentally pray that my mother hasn't heard, but life doesn't always grant our wishes. She appears behind me, scolding, as all mothers do.

    In silence, we clean up the mess I've made together. In an unexpected gesture, my mother hugs me without saying a word. It's a tight but comforting hug that makes me feel less alone at this moment of imminent farewell. We talk about my departure, and Mrs. Candida advises me with the wisdom that only mothers have.

    Finally, she holds my hand and blesses me, which makes me feel emotional and grateful. I promise to always keep in touch, and she hugs me again, as if she doesn't want to let me go. Tears run down my cheeks as I say goodbye to my home and my family, certain that nostalgia will be my steadfast companion.

    I continue getting used to the idea of leaving everything behind and starting a new life in a foreign country. I feel scared, but at the same time, excited about the possibility of exploring new places, meeting new people, and experiencing different cultures. Amidst these thoughts, my phone rings—it's past 1 PM—an unexpected work call. I bid my mother farewell and head out; as soon as I arrive, I'm surprised by a farewell party organized by my coworkers.

    The common room is adorned with colorful balloons and flowers, and there's a table filled with delicious food. Everyone smiles at me, welcoming me with kind words and affectionate hugs. I can't help but feel an indescribable emotion, seeing how much they care about me. Tears well up in my eyes as my colleagues hand me cards and thoughtful mementos. They wish me luck on my new journey and promise to keep in touch whenever possible.

    I head home with a joyful heart, a smile not leaving my face. The sun paints orange rays through the clouds, announcing the mild evening. These four hours have been unforgettable, filled with love and joy. I was surrounded by people who love me and support my decision to go abroad. Now I know that, although I'm leaving behind many important things in my life, I will always have a true family and group of friends who will accompany me wherever I go.

I feel my phone ring, bringing me out of my daydreams, I look at the screen and my smile disappears, Nilza is calling me.

    Nilza approaches with hesitant steps, her shoulders slumped, revealing the weight of a secret kept too long. Her tired eyes meet mine, and I feel a mixture of sadness and curiosity. Why has she finally decided to talk?

    I invite her to sit down, and we order our drinks and sandwiches, while an awkward silence fills the space between us. I try not to be rude, but her presence makes me tense.

    Finally, Nilza breaks the silence. Her voice is low and shaky, and I have to lean in to hear her words. She begins to tell me about her story with Bráulio, the fiancé I loved and trusted so much.

    The truth is shocking, and I feel my heart squeeze as she reveals the betrayal and the intimate video he used to threaten her. Now it's easier for me to understand why she left me in the dark, thinking I was marrying a good man.

    "I'm sorry, I had no idea about all of this. So, that's why you've always been hostile towards him?" She nods and wipes her face.

    "I'm sorry, too, for not telling you earlier. And I'm sorry for the photos," I looked at her with a furrowed brow.

    "Photos?

    "It was me who sent the photos, from a private number, it was the only way I found. I couldn't bear to see you marrying that jerk without doing anything."

We stay silent, staring at each other for seconds. Finally, I sigh and say, "It's okay, in a few days, none of this will matter anymore."

                                     ***

As I walk towards the boarding gate, I feel a tightness in my chest and a lump in my throat. I look back and see my family, small and distant, waving and smiling. It's hard to leave them behind, but I know this is an important journey for me.

The voice over the loudspeaker interrupts my thoughts and draws my attention to my flight. I feel butterflies in my stomach and clutch the butterfly pendant that Dad gave me, feeling the weight of the gold in my hands. It's like a part of them is with me, even though they're so far away.

Upon entering the airplane, I'm greeted with a warm smile from the flight attendant, who points me to my seat. I make my way down the aisle, looking for my seat number. When I finally find it, I see a man sitting in my seat. I double-check my ticket to confirm the seat number.

    "Sorry, sir, you're sitting in my seat," I state with a neutral expression on my face.

The man gazes at me for a few seconds with a gentle smile. His attractive, deep eyes sweep over my entire body, sending shivers down my spine.

    "I apologize, I think I made a mistake. I was lost in my thoughts and sat here without realizing. If you want your seat back, I can move to another one. I don't want to cause any trouble."

He doesn't take his gaze off mine, his intense and mesmerizing green eyes, his well-groomed brown hair slicked back.

    "Don't worry, it's no trouble at all. I can sit here. It seems like you need this seat more than I do," I smile shyly and take my seat. He smiles back.

    "Thank you. By the way, I'm Tobias Bernstorff."

    "Nihara Vitti. Nice to meet you."

    "Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats and fasten your seat belts. We'll be taking off in five minutes. Thank you."

The plane begins to move down the runway, and I start to feel my stomach squirm with nervousness. I look out of the window, watching the landscape move quickly and feeling the speed increase. I hold my pendant and lean my head on the seat, breathing slowly and deeply.

    As the plane starts to take off, I feel my heart beating faster, I stifle a scream with my hand, while I dig the nails of my other hand into something firm and smooth. I look at the other passengers, seeing that most of them look calm and serene, as if it's no big deal. I turn to look at the man next to me, who is holding my hand, reassuring me.

    A few minutes later, but calm, I can't look at him for shame, I release my hand from his and hide my face with my hands resting on my legs. He remains silent, with an air of doubt or confusion, I can't tell for sure.

    "Oh, my God, please, I'm so sorry," I exclaim, grabbing his hand and placing it on my lap, concerned about the small nail scratch on his extremely fair skin. "I didn't mean to… look at what I've done."

    "It's alright, no need to worry…" Is this your first time flying? Or is this something that happens whenever you travel?"

    "Definitely the first option. In my defense, I didn't know I'd be this scared," I reply as I rummage through my bag for adhesive and antiseptic, I always carry stuff like this.

    "Sometimes we don't know how we'll react to a situation until we face it."

    "Please, give me your hand," I ask almost as a command. "I hope this won't cause you any trouble." I clean the wound and then put on the adhesive.

The man makes a few faces when I apply the antiseptic, then he breaks into a faint smile when he sees the colorful butterfly sticker that covers the scratch.

    "Sorry, I only have these."

    "No, it's fine. My little girl will love this when she sees it."

I widen my eyes in confusion, trying to imagine the logic behind a woman loving a scratch on her boyfriend's or husband's hand that she didn't cause. What kind of woman wouldn't be bothered by seeing a scratch on her man's hand? I don't even realize that my question sounds loud enough for him to hear.

    "I believe any woman would be suspicious of that, but since I don't have one, I don't need to worry. I was referring to my daughter," he responds with a certain sparkle in his eyes.