Diego Bittencourt
Quick turnaround trips—even same-day ones—were normal for me.
Doing them two or three times a month, especially on weekends, had become part of my routine, and Maria Gabriela was used to it by now.
Besides, I always made sure she got a generous bonus at the end of the month whenever travel was involved.
It was only fair.
We were in the conference room of one of our S?o Paulo offices, where the soft light from the glass panels brightened the sleek, minimalist space. The city outside felt distant, almost irrelevant compared to what we were about to discuss.
It was time to face the investors.
They sat around the table, attentive, while I began the presentation. Maria Gabriela stood beside me, as always, her eyes sharp, ready to jump in whenever I needed her to fill in the details.
“We’re here to discuss the new 5G network expansion,” I began, using the same confident tone I always did in business meetings. “Amacel’s goal is to extend high-speed internet coverage to an even larger part of the country, and we’re projecting significant growth over the next two years.”
My job was to convince them that our plans were solid—that their return was guaranteed. And I knew exactly how to do it.
“We’re talking about a strategic expansion into regions with high connectivity demand,” I continued, “focusing on leveraging our cutting-edge technology to ensure a fast and efficient rollout.”
As I spoke, I could feel Maria Gabriela watching me discreetly, the way she always did during meetings. It was as if she were constantly analyzing, processing, absorbing everything.
She never missed a single detail—and that was one of the things I admired most about her.
The meeting went on smoothly, and when I finally wrapped up, the investors looked convinced. They began to leave one by one, exchanging polite goodbyes with me and Maria Gabriela until, at last, the room was empty.
Silence settled in, replacing the intensity of the discussion that had filled the air moments earlier.
I leaned back in my chair, letting out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. When I glanced at Maria Gabriela, she was still beside me, gathering documents, her focus unwavering.
But something had been bothering me for days—something I couldn’t keep ignoring.
I needed to know.
“Maria Gabriela,” I said, my voice calmer than usual.
She looked up, surprised by my tone.
“Yes?”
I watched her for a few seconds, weighing my words before speaking.
Why was this so damn hard?
I’d always been straightforward—a man who didn’t flinch from what he wanted to say. But with her… it was different. I cared what she thought of me, though I’d never admit it out loud.
“What am I to you?” I asked plainly. “Be honest. How do you really see me?”
It wasn’t like me to ask questions like that.
I preferred to keep people at arm’s length, professionalism always first. But I needed to understand what she truly thought of me—because, somehow, it mattered.
She blinked, hesitating for a moment. I could see her choosing her words carefully, as if deciding how much honesty I could handle.
“Well…” she began, a little uncertain, “you’re…
complicated, Diego.” Her voice was steady, sincere.
“You can be cold, calculating, sometimes even cruel… but at the same time, you care.” She drew a breath.
“I think you care more than you want anyone to see. You try to hide it, but I notice. I can tell that underneath all of that, there’s someone who genuinely cares. ”
Something in the way she said it—in the way she saw me—stirred a strange mix of vulnerability and admiration inside me.
She saw me.
Maria Gabriela looked past the facade I showed everyone else.
“So I’m a walking contradiction to you?” I asked, a faint smile tugging at my lips as I tried to lighten the moment.
She laughed softly, shaking her head.
“You’re… hard to read,” she admitted, her eyes glinting with a mix of honesty and amusement. “But yeah, I think that’s the best way to describe you. A contradiction.”
No matter how much I prided myself on control, when it came to Maria Gabriela, it always seemed to slip right through my fingers.
“That makes me curious, you know?” I said, standing and walking toward the window. “What else do you see in me that I can’t see myself?”
She smiled—this time, softer, almost intimate.
“Maybe you should start looking at yourself a little more honestly, Diego,” she said. Then, before I could respond, she stood and gathered the last of the papers. “Now, let’s finish this before we’re late for the next meeting.”
She turned to leave, and I just stood there, watching her.
Her words echoed in my mind, settling deep.
And maybe—just maybe—she was the one person who could help me see what I’d spent so long refusing to face.