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“Look at me, Antonella?” Marcos rests his index and middle fingers on my chin and asks in a low, careful voice.I swallow dry and run my dry tongue over my lips.I don’t want to look.I don’t want to. — “Please look at me” repeats the request and, terrified, I give in.I raise my head to meet his eyes, and what I see floods back into mine when I thought it would no longer be possible. Understanding.
There’s no judgment here.There is no recrimination.There’s no disgust. Only understanding. For the first time I really understand what Marcos means about scandalous eyes.Because even if his vocal cords screamed, they wouldn’t speak louder than his blue irises right now.
Marcos understands my pain and somehow, he feels it.He’s sorry, as much or more than I am that I feel this way, and he doesn’t believe for a second that I’m right.You’re not a coward!You are not a fraud!Feeling afraid, feeling tired, not knowing what to do, none of this makes you a bad mother!It’s okay, Antonella. It’s okay not to always be your best version, nobody is!His eyes tell me in silence, and with every sentence I hear, my soul seems to become a hundred pounds lighter, because he understands me.
He understands me.
He understands me and I need him to know.
I don’t know how long we spend in this mute exchange until I finally open my mouth. But I do.
“I love you.” I bite my lower lip, looking for what to say next, because I don’t know.I don’t know what the next step should be, and if regret could kill, I would be dead, lying on the ground for not having said it before, for not having trusted Marcos’ actions more than my own doubts. “I love you and I’m so, so sorry, Marcos! For hurting you!I’m going to spend the rest of my life rewarding you for this, I just...” I interrupt my words without knowing how to use them to express the size of my regret.
Marcos’ fingers caress my face and my cheek, and silence stretches between us like a rug.Until, despite everything his eyes scream, his lips draw completely different words.
“You need to rest... It was… It was a shitty day, I… Can you stand up?Can you stand?” I shake my head, nodding, and blink my eyes a few times.With his help, I get up, and Marcos does the same soon after.We look at each other again in silence.
“In your room or in mine?” I ask, in a low voice, even if the answer is floating in the blue look.
“Antonella, I think you’d better go to yours...” Those are careful words, and there’s nothing but fear in the tone used.But it hurts like any rejection would.Maybe even more than if he was yelling at me.Because knowing that, even hurt to the point of denying his own feelings, Marcos is still taking care of me, is much more painful than his contempt.
“Marcos.” My voice is a whisper. “I thought...”
“I know what you thought, Antonella.But it’s not as simple as that. I…” He looks away, turning his face and staring at the wall for a few seconds before looking back at me. “I love you, and every word I said, or didn’t say, is true.You’re an amazing mother, and being afraid doesn’t make you a coward, but right now, I...” lowers his eyes momentarily “I don’t know if my certainties are enough.” Someone is cutting off my air supply, but I just shake my head, agreeing, even if I disagree. “I’m going out now, just...Try to get some rest? Ok? Get some sleep and eat something?”I shake my head once more and, taking this as the answer I needed, Marcos turns his back on me, and I don’t even blink as I watch him walk away step by step, call the elevator, get into it and be taken away from me.
“Marcos?” Interestingly, or as a sign of goodwill in the universe, it is João Pedro himself who answers the door when I ring the doorbell of his house.
After driving aimlessly for hours, I found myself arriving at my friend’s home.The truth is, I had only two options.The first was my father, who was out of the question, the second was the pair of eyes highlighted by the frown that stares at me now.
He leaves the front door, opening a passage for me, and I enter without having said a word.
“Office,” he warns, and I shake my head, agreeing.We walk up the stairs, across corridors, and finally isolate ourselves in the office.I throw myself on a brown leather sofa, rest my head on its back and close my eyes.
I hear the movement of João Pedro and, only when I feel his proximity, I raise my head and open my eyes.My friend has a glass of whiskey extended to me and the bottle in his other hand.I take the glass and turn it all down my throat at once before extending it, asking for more.He serves another generous dose, sits next to me and waits.
I drop my head back and again plunge into the darkness of the closed eyelids.We were silent long enough for him to get tired of waiting.
“You know, I was expecting your visit, but that’s definitely not the visit I expected. I would understand if you were terrified, freaking out, saying goodbye, because you’d be leaving for a long stay in the Bermuda Triangle, but this face? No... No way. So, I’m guessing this isn’t about you finding out you’re in love?”
I smile sadly.
“You know...”
“Anyone who’s read the story in the magazine knows, Marcos.Those pictures smell like a couple in love!So, this can’t be about Antonella rejecting you either.” The magazine.Well, it looks like it brought out a lot of truths.
“No. It isn’t. She did something worse, my friend. She lied to me again.” I raise my head and face João Pedro who with a raised eyebrow makes a mute request for me to explain. “Danilo Albuquerque de Holanda also made a discovery when reading that article, he found out that he has a daughter.”
“What?”
“Yeah! He’s Isabella’s father!He saw a picture of her in the magazine.Although she didn’t participate in the penthouse photo shoot, you saw, they also posted photos of the wedding.Danilo saw the photos, read Antonella’s name for the first time in five years and did the math.”
“Holy shit!”
“Yeah...” I slowly agree. “Holy shit!”
“I thought the child’s father didn’t want anything to do with her, I never thought he just didn’t know about the girl’s fucking existence!”
“Welcome to the club!” I raise my glass in a lonely toast.
