CHAPTER 41
“Every scar tells a story, but it’s the healing that defines who we are…”
DIEGO BITTENCOURT
“I’ve told you a thousand times that’s not how I want that report done!” My voice came out harsher than I intended, but the irritation building inside me was getting impossible to contain.
The new secretary, Marli, visibly shaken, stammered an apology while scrambling to pick up the papers she’d dropped on my desk.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Bittencourt, I’ll… I’ll redo it right away.” She couldn’t even meet my eyes before rushing out, nearly tripping over her own feet in her haste.
When the door closed, I exhaled and leaned back in my chair.
She was the sixth secretary since Maria Gabriela left.
None of them could keep up. None seemed to understand what I wanted without me having to spell out every detail.
I’d fired them all—one after another—for mistakes, delays, or simply not being able to handle the pressure. But the truth was, no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise, I knew it wasn’t just that.
None of them were Maria Gabriela.
None could fill the void she’d left behind—and I hated admitting that.
Every time a new secretary made a mistake, it was like reliving the loss all over again. And not just the loss of a brilliant employee—but of something I’d thrown away because of my pride and arrogance.
My thoughts drifted back to Maria Gabriela, and inevitably, to our daughter, Clara. Time had passed since the day I found out I was her father, but the weight of my failure still gnawed at me.
The memory of Clara smiling at me for the first time, when I held her in my arms, haunted me. I’d never felt anything so powerful. In that moment, every wall I’d built around myself had come crashing down.
But now, every time I stared at the empty space Maria Gabriela had left behind, I felt like the same cold, isolated man I’d always been.
The sound of the door opening snapped me out of my thoughts.
“Trouble in paradise?” my brother asked, his voice dripping with irony.
I rolled my eyes, in no mood for his sarcasm today.
“If by ‘paradise’ you mean this company that’s drowning in incompetence, then yeah, plenty of trouble.”
Alexandre chuckled, shaking his head as he dropped into the armchair across from my desk.
“Or maybe you’re just taking out your frustrations because no one’s Maria Gabriela.”
I swallowed hard. It was infuriating how easily he could read me.
“That has nothing to do with it.”
“Oh, really?” He raised an eyebrow, challenging me. “Narcissus, you’re grumpier than ever. You can’t keep a secretary for more than a month because none of them are Maria Gabriela. None of them will challenge you, push you, or look at you with that ‘I know exactly how you work’ look she had.”
I said nothing, my eyes fixed on the computer screen, though my mind was miles away—lost in memories I couldn’t shut off.
“Maybe you should make peace with it,” Alexandre said, his tone softer now. “You have a daughter with her. That’s not going to change. No matter how hard you try to move on, she’ll always be in your life. The sooner you accept that, the better.”
I let out a long breath, the truth in his words hitting me square in the chest. My anger, my pride, my fear—they were all keeping me from what really mattered.
“And if you’re wondering,” he added, standing to leave, “whether it’s too late to fix things—the answer’s no. But only if you’re willing to swallow that damn pride of yours.”
He walked out, leaving me alone with the echo of his words.
I knew he was right. I needed to change. I needed to find a way to show Maria Gabriela that I wasn’t the man who had hurt her so deeply. But more than that, I needed to prove to myself that I could be the father Clara deserved.
With that thought burning in my mind, I picked up my phone and stared at Maria Gabriela’s number, my finger hovering above the screen.
It was now or never.