Chapter 5.

Chapter 5.

— Once upon a Monday morning...

I was incredibly passionate about the career I had chosen to pursue in college and build after graduation. Those five years were incredibly difficult, and there were times when I nearly gave up and went back to Philadelphia to live with my parents.

My God! It would have been much easier to study business administration in my hometown than to attend a prestigious private university in Miami, where I had earned a full scholarship.

On the other hand, my ambitions and my desire to explore new horizons and take on new challenges had always been stronger than any desire to see myself stuck in Pennsylvania, pursuing a degree I had never liked and eventually managing my parents' pet shop. No, I could never devalue or belittle their dream, as that would have been unfair and hypocritical of me. Besides, it was that little shop that provided the financial support I needed to get by in Miami until I landed a part-time job and my first internship in my chosen field.

Opening their own business and building a life with greater financial security were the reasons my parents had left their lives in Teresópolis, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, behind. They arrived with countless worries weighing on their minds, little money in their pockets, a ten-year-old child in tow, and another child on the way who hadn't yet shown any signs of being there.

Catharina was always doing something unexpected.

The first few years on American soil were incredibly difficult for all of us. Countless times, I heard and watched my mother cry at night while my father comforted her, and vice versa, because nothing was easy for any of the three of us. Fortunately, Catharina was still just a baby and would never understand the things I was already going through, nor would she have to endure the same hardships I faced alone. In the end, each of us dealt with the situation differently at various points in our lives.

Job opportunities were scarce, and my parents' limited English kept some doors from opening for them. For me, in particular, going to school was absolute hell, as I found myself excluded and bullied by my classmates.

— Will you really give up on your dreams? I didn't raise you to give up so easily! Olivia, my love, bring me my blood pressure medication, because Jesus Christ is calling me! In fact, I can already see the light! — Grandma Manuela had said a long time ago, her high, shrill voice dripping with drama. At the time, my parents had just told me over the phone that they were considering the possibility of moving back to Brazil. —Don't make me give up my cats and my wife to cross the Atlantic Ocean!

That phone call was a glimmer of hope for Cecília and Miguel, my parents, giving them the encouragement they needed to stay on American soil and pursue their dreams. Well, there were still difficulties and closed doors, but finally, the fruits of so much effort, so many tears, sweat, and frustration had arrived. My parents' pet shop opened eight years ago. From that moment on, my small, beloved family's dream became a reality.

That ambition and achievement belonged to my parents, but not to me.

When the business first opened, I kept my dream of studying architecture outside Pennsylvania alive and focused on helping my parents however I could, cutting the expense of hiring an employee so we could save as much as possible to reinvest in the pet shop later. It was the best decision I could have made at the time. Twelve months later, at nineteen, with the business on more stable footing, I boarded a plane and landed in Miami hours later, where I moved in with Arabella in an apartment her parents had given her as a graduation present.

Finally, after years of setbacks and an almost endless string of problems, I managed to land a position at the best and most prestigious construction firm in Miami, Florida. I interned there for a few months before being hired as the newest architect in the planning department, which was headed by Miss Miller. Now, however, my job was under threat because of him.

— You're going to become diabetic if you keep this up, Carina — warned a slightly concerned female voice.

I lifted my head from whatever had held my attention and looked at Lora Miller, my boss in the Planning Department at P. & G. Vacchiano Construction. She was staring at me with furrowed brows and a glint of concern in her eyes, partially hidden behind her glasses.

— I just need to calm down, Miss Miller — I forced a weak, awkward smile as I poured more sugar into my glass of passion fruit juice. — Or I'll have a heart attack before noon — I added nervously.

She let out a heavy sigh and came over to me, taking the sugar and the glass of juice from my hands.

— Cah, what's going on with you this morning? — she asked, setting them on the counter beside us. — You're so distracted and agitated, young lady. — I looked up at her again. — And it's only 9:30. So please, tell me what's going on — she insisted gently.

I blinked repeatedly, trying to hold back my tears and keep from breaking down in front of her, but I failed miserably. By the Goddess! I'd managed to evade Arabella's sharp, perceptive eyes when our paths had briefly crossed at breakfast. Luckily for me, she was almost late for her shift and wouldn't have been able to give me a ride to the construction company anyway.

— I'm going to get fired, Lora — I whispered, choking on my words as the first sob escaped from deep within me. By then, I'd already given in to despair and tears. — I... I... I... — I fell silent, shaking my head and covering my face with my hands.

A moment later, I felt her arms wrap around me, pulling me into a tight embrace where I could finally give in to my distress. There, I allowed myself to break down and cry without fear of being judged. I knew I could always count on Arabella, but my friend already had her own problems to deal with and didn't need mine piling on top of them. Besides, we still hadn't talked about the latest events of the weekend.

— Cah, come with me, please — Lora said gently, releasing me and guiding me toward a comfortable sofa in the company break room. I sat beside her, my eyes still teary as I cried softly. — Drink some water, Carina.

I accepted the glass and calmly swallowed the cold liquid. Lora remained beside me in silence, gently rubbing my back.

— Feeling calmer? — she asked. I nodded and sniffled softly. — Okay. — She let out a deep sigh. — Now, please tell me why you think you're going to be fired, because, as the head of your department, I haven't been informed of anything of the sort — she said seriously.

I swallowed hard and continued staring at the break room's dazzling white floor.

— I broke up with Lorenzo, Lora — I began. — Actually, we had lunch with his parents yesterday, and he came up with some crazy story about proposing to me right in front of them.

I grimaced in disgust at the memory and looked up at her. Lora seemed relieved.

— I was about to end our relationship, but he beat me to it... At least, he doesn't know I cheated on him. — My eyes widened as I realized what I'd just said.

My goodness! I really can't catch a break with this big mouth of mine!

— What, Carina? — Lora's eyes widened. — Did you just say exactly what I think I heard?

I felt my face burn with sheer embarrassment.

— Did I? — I stammered, uncertain and mortified.

She threw her head back and burst into contagious laughter. I joined her, but my laughter came purely from nervousness and dread.

— Cah, you're amazing!

I frowned, looking at her as if she were a creature from another planet.

— I am? — I asked, confused.

Lora nodded, still chuckling.

— Absolutely, girl. — Her smile widened. — That boy is a spoiled brat. — She rolled her eyes in irritation. — A spoiled man, actually. But why would you get fired? Does he know you cheated on him, Cah?

I rolled my eyes and quickly shook my head.

— Actually, no. — I glanced toward the break room entrance, but we were still alone in the comfortable, luxurious space. — I haven't had a chance to tell Arabella yet. — I turned my attention back to Lora. At the mention of my best friend's name, her cheeks flushed slightly. — What?

She huffed and picked at a loose thread on the hem of her dress.

— And how is Arabella? — she asked, looking a little flustered. — I haven't seen her in a while. — Her cheeks grew even rosier.

Oh, was I imagining things, or were my wild theories from earlier that morning actually spot-on?

Although I didn't have an honest answer to my boss's question, a mischievous smile threatened to spread across my lips. Lora Miller's cheeks had flushed when she'd mentioned Arabella. My tongue was practically itching to ask questions, but I held back as she looked at me with a mix of expectation and shyness.

Dear reader, was Miss Miller in love with my best friend?