CHAPTER 11
“Life is a cycle of endings and new beginnings…”
MARIA GAbrIELA
I woke up with a brutal hangover.
Thank God the meeting wasn’t until lunch—if it had been in the morning, I’d have been screwed. I knew I shouldn’t have drunk that much last night, but honestly, at the time, it felt like the only way to cope with everything happening between me and Diego.
Now, sprawled in bed, I felt the weight of every choice—every glass of wine, every reckless decision… right down to the kiss I’d given him.
Literally, I…
I let out a long sigh and dragged myself out of bed, reality crashing back in to find me. My head still felt fuzzy, the memories of the night before circling like restless ghosts.
I needed clarity.
Cold water on my face, a hard stare at my reflection in the mirror—you can’t let this get to you. Then the hot shower, letting the steam unknot my muscles and quiet my mind.
I dressed carefully: a black pencil skirt, a navy silk blouse, and a sharp blazer. I blew out my hair, let it fall smooth over my shoulders, added simple but elegant earrings, and just enough makeup to make me feel like myself again.
I was ready to face the day, even if inside, I was still shaking a little.
When I walked into the hotel’s conference room, Diego was already there, seated at the head of the table, all sharp lines and business focus.
We exchanged nothing more than a polite nod, but I knew he felt me the way I felt him—like the tension between us had settled into the air itself. Still, we both seemed committed to keeping up appearances.
I took a seat close by, flipping open my notebook and pen to take notes. Diego began speaking with that deep, controlled voice of his, leading the discussion with the kind of mastery that always caught me off guard.
He was, without a doubt, exceptional. The way he carried himself, the precision in each word, the authority laced with absolute confidence—it drew me in, made me admire him whether I wanted to or not.
Even after the chaos of last night, I couldn’t deny his talent. Watching him command the room, handle numbers, proposals, complex solutions like it was second nature… it was like he’d been born for this. A natural leader.
And still, my mind betrayed me—drifting back to his laugh, to the heat of his mouth on mine, to how close we’d been. The way he’d looked at me, all intensity and hunger—that I’d never forget.
Now, sitting across from him at a polished boardroom table, I couldn’t help but wonder: how did he do it? How could he so easily separate personal from professional, when I could barely keep my thoughts straight?
I tried to shake it off, forcing my focus back on the meeting.
But flashes of last night wouldn’t stop haunting me.
The way he’d walked me back, made sure I was safe, the way every conversation seemed to walk a razor-thin line between sparring and something so much more… it was all too vivid, too confusing.
Diego’s voice pulled me back—wrapping up his presentation. The room was silent, every eye locked on him, every ear hanging on his words. His presence was undeniable, magnetic in a way that commanded attention without him even trying.
For a moment, I wondered how he managed it all—carrying so much, holding it all together without ever cracking. And I admired him for it, more than I cared to admit.
But I also knew this man—this powerful, unshakable CEO—had sides no one else got to see. Sides I’d begun to glimpse. Maybe even sides he didn’t want to.
The meeting pushed forward, and I anchored myself back in the moment, jotting down notes, preparing for the decisions ahead. There was still work to do, and I had to stay focused, no matter how hard it was.
I kept reminding myself why I was here. Why I had to keep the line.
And yet, one question pulsed louder than the rest:
How much longer could I keep that line from breaking before everything came crashing down?
“You drank too much last night, you know that?” Diego said with his usual smile as we stepped out of the conference room.
He’d just handled a complicated situation with a client, looking relaxed as if nothing ever fazed him. He always seemed to know exactly what to say, how to say it, carrying control so effortlessly it sometimes left me off balance.
“Yeah… I overdid it a little,” I admitted, forcing a smile.
I didn’t want to think too hard about last night, but it was impossible to avoid. The kiss, the tension between us, and—above all—my confession about quitting… it was all still fresh in my mind.
“You even said some pretty wild things,” he added, a teasing lilt in his voice, clearly trying to lighten the mood.
“Like what…?” I asked, even though I knew exactly what he meant. I tried to keep it playful, but part of me braced for the conversation I’d been dreading.
“That you were resigning at the end of the month,” he said with a chuckle, as if the idea were ridiculous, just wine-fueled nonsense. “But of course, that was just the alcohol talking, right?”
I tried to smile, but my face betrayed me. The discomfort hit hard, and I stayed quiet for a moment, eyes fixed on the floor as we walked the hotel corridor.
The truth was, that decision had been made long before the wine loosened my tongue. Last night had only made me say it out loud.
When Diego realized I wasn’t laughing or throwing back a sarcastic comment, something in his expression shifted. His smile faded slowly, replaced by a shadow of concern.
He stopped walking, turning fully to face me, his eyes sharp now, locked on mine.
“Maria Gabriela…” His voice dropped lower, more controlled. “Are you serious about that? About leaving the company?”
I inhaled deeply, my heartbeat quickening under the weight of it. I didn’t want this conversation here, not in the middle of a hallway. I wanted to put it off as long as possible. But deep down, I knew I’d been postponing the inevitable. Something had to change, and I couldn’t pretend anymore.
“Diego…” I started carefully, choosing each word. “It’s complicated. I just… need some time. I’ve been thinking about it. But please, not now.”
He studied me for a long moment, eyes scanning every flicker of my expression like he was searching between the lines for what I wasn’t saying.
And in that moment, I realized he wasn’t only worried about losing an employee. He was trying to figure out what else was hiding underneath. Maybe he was starting to see that, for me, this was about so much more than work.
“If that’s really what you want…” he said finally, with a calm that nearly disarmed me. “Tell me. But I’d like to know the reason. The real reason.”
I bit my lip, fighting the urge to let it all spill out. He wanted answers, but I wasn’t ready to give them. Not yet.
All I could do was shake my head, a silent way of saying I had nothing more to offer right now.
“I… I don’t know, Diego,” I said at last, looking away. “Just… give me some time, okay?”
He nodded slowly, but I caught the flicker of frustration in his eyes. Diego was not a man who liked loose ends. He always wanted answers, control. And the fact that I was pulling away without a clear explanation—it clearly got under his skin.
“All right,” he said, calm but firm. “But we’re talking about this when we’re back in Florianópolis. I’m not letting it drop.”
I nodded without replying, walking with him toward the elevator. The silence between us felt heavier than ever, thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions.
When we stepped inside, my chest tightened. He always knew how to disarm me, but this time he was pushing me toward a place I wasn’t sure I was ready to go. Still, I knew I couldn’t run forever.
Sooner or later, I’d have to face it.
And as the elevator climbed, the only thought in my head was how that conversation would play out once we were back home. Because no matter how hard I tried to keep my distance, Diego was getting closer and closer to tearing down the walls I’d built.