Chapter Diego Bittencourt
DIEGO BITTENCOURT
“What did you want to talk to me about, Narcissus?”
My brother walked into my office with that look that said he was bracing himself for another one of our usual arguments—but I knew what I was about to tell him would catch him off guard.
I took a deep breath before answering, my tone carrying a seriousness he wasn’t used to hearing from me.
“To be straight with you—I’m taking some time off.”
Alexandre looked at me, stunned, disbelief flickering across his face.
“What? How long?”
“I don’t know. However long it takes.” My voice was steady, but it carried a weight I wasn’t used to feeling.
For the first time in years, I was admitting that I needed a break—that I couldn’t keep living at the same relentless pace.
“You’re serious?”
“Yeah. I need to restart my life. Work… changed me as a person.” Saying it out loud felt strange, almost like I was talking about someone else, but I knew it was true.
Everything that had happened—the revelation of my daughter, the public humiliation, the confrontation with Maria Gabriela—had forced me into a painful kind of awakening.
I wasn’t the man I wanted to be. And I had to fix that.
“Wow.” Alexandre stared at me, trying to process what he’d just heard. I could see a mix of concern and respect in his eyes. “So what’s the plan?”
“I’m going to spend more time with Arthur and Clara. I need to be a better father, Alexandre—and a better man. I can’t keep living the way I was. I started therapy last week, and I’m sticking with it. I need help figuring out what I really want and who I’ve become.”
The shock on his face softened into something like admiration. He stepped closer, placed a hand on my shoulder, and gave it a firm squeeze—the kind of gesture that said everything without words.
“That’s huge. And long overdue,” he said, his voice warm and sincere in a way I hadn’t heard in a long time. “I’ll take care of everything here while you’re gone. You can count on me.”
“I know I can, brother.” I met his gaze, the same trust we’d always shared reflected back at me. “I’m going to use this time to reevaluate everything—to really figure out what I want for the future. I can’t let work keep consuming me the way it has.”
“And Maria Gabriela?” Alexandre asked carefully, knowing how loaded that question was.
I exhaled, feeling the familiar weight of guilt and shame pressing down again.
“She made it clear how she feels about me. I can’t blame her. But I’m going to try, Alexandre. I want to become someone worthy of being in her life—and Clara’s. I know it won’t be easy, but I’m willing to wait as long as it takes.”
Alexandre nodded slowly, recognizing the resolve in my voice.
“You really are changing. I’m glad to see it. Go—take care of yourself, take care of your family. We’ll handle the rest here.”
He didn’t need to say anything else. He understood—better than anyone—the depth of what I was going through, and he had my back.
“I don’t know how long I’ll need, but I trust you to keep things running smoothly here. I’ll leave a few notes before I go, but overall, I know you’ll handle it.”
“Don’t worry about that. Focus on yourself and your family. I’ve got it covered.” Alexandre squeezed my shoulder again before stepping back. “And… I’m proud of you.”
The unexpected comment caught me off guard, and a lump rose in my throat. Words like that weren’t common between us, but I knew he meant it.
“Thank you,” I said quietly, feeling the weight of the moment settle over me. “For everything.”