Chapter 14
I threw my bag on the floor the moment I got home and collapsed onto the couch, too drained to take off my shoes or let my hair down. The living room was steeped in shadow, lit only by the orange glow of streetlights filtering through the curtains.
I could feel it.
His scent was still on my skin.
I pressed my hands to my face, trying to shake the pressure hammering in my chest.
What was I doing?
I shouldn’t have let things get this far. I shouldn’t have given in.
But the truth was, I was in love.
Denying it was pointless.
He consumed me. Every time I tried to pull away, I came back even stronger, as if some invisible magnet kept drawing us together.
But this had to end.
I couldn’t keep living in his shadow, waiting for scraps between political meetings and public crises.
I ran my hands through my hair and stood up. It was Friday night. My weekend off had started.
And I was going to use it to prove to myself I could live without Fernando.
I grabbed my phone and ordered a large four-cheese pizza. Then I went to the kitchen and picked out a wine. Nothing fancy. Something simple and cheap, but enough to numb me so I wouldn’t think about him.
Minutes later, barefoot and wearing an oversized t-shirt, I put on some random music to fill the silence. Smooth jazz floated through the living room as I set up the coffee table with my glass and the open bottle.
I was going to be okay.
I needed to be okay.
When the doorbell rang, my heart raced instinctively.
The pizza.
But when I opened the door, what I found wasn’t a delivery guy holding a cardboard box.
It was Fernando.
My chest tightened.
He was there. Standing in my doorway, wearing the same clothes as before, his tie already loose, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His dark eyes swept over me from head to toe.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I whispered, unable to step back.
“I know.”
His voice was low, hoarse.
A heavy silence hung between us.
He glanced inside the apartment and frowned when he saw the wine bottle and the table set for one.
“Celebrating something?”
I let out a humorless laugh.
“Yes. My first weekend without you.”
His eyes gleamed with something I couldn’t read.
“And how’s that going?”
My stomach churned.
“I thought it would be easier.”
The confession slipped out before I could stop it.
Fernando stepped forward, crossing the threshold.
I should have stopped him.
But all I did was stand there breathing hard as he approached, stopping so close that the woody scent of his skin filled my senses.
“Then why are you trying?” he whispered, his fingers brushing my waist.
I swallowed hard.
“Because I’m scared.”
His eyes softened.
“Scared of what?”
“Of losing myself.”
He sighed, running his fingers through my hair and cupping the back of my neck.
“You think I’m not?”
I closed my eyes, savoring the warm, comforting touch.
“Fernando…”
He didn’t let me finish.
His lips claimed mine with urgency, a hot, desperate kiss, as if this were our last chance to have each other.
And maybe it was. My hands grabbed his shirt, fingers twisting in the fabric as I pulled him inside, into the middle of my chaos, my heart pounding.
He kicked the door shut, the sharp sound echoing in the silence, and before I could think, he pressed me against the hallway wall, his large, warm body pinning me there with a force that made me gasp.
His hands were hungry, sliding up under my t-shirt, his rough fingers grazing my bare skin, tracing my waist, moving up my ribs until they almost reached my breasts.
He stopped kissing my mouth for a second, his dark eyes devouring me, then lowered his lips to my neck, kissing slowly, his hot, wet mouth leaving a trail of fire as I tilted my head back, offering more of myself.
“You drive me crazy,” he murmured against my skin, his hoarse voice vibrating against my collarbone before he nibbled lightly, drawing a low moan from me.
“Fernando…” I tried again, but he silenced me with another kiss on my neck, his teeth grazing as one hand slid down, unbuttoning my pants with a quick flick.
He didn’t waste time—his fingers slipped inside my panties, finding me already wet, the heat between my thighs betraying how much I wanted him.
“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he whispered against my neck, his hot breath making me shiver as he started touching me, his thumb pressing my clit in slow circles, two fingers sliding inside me with ease.
I moaned louder, my legs trembling, and he kissed my neck harder, sucking the sensitive skin while his fingers worked me, sliding in and out in a steady rhythm, his thumb rubbing faster now.
“That’s it, give yourself to me,” he murmured, his lips grazing my ear before returning to my neck, kissing and biting while I writhed against the wall, my hands gripping his shoulders to hold myself up.
The pleasure rose fast, a tight knot in my belly, the wet sound of his fingers thrusting into me mingling with my muffled gasps.
“Fernando, please…” I begged, my voice breaking, and he responded by going faster, his fingers curving inside me, hitting just that spot that made me see stars, his thumb relentless on my clit.
He kept kissing my neck, his mouth hot and possessive, his teeth grazing lightly while I felt the orgasm building, my whole body tense, on the verge of collapse.
“Come for me,” he whispered against my skin, and it was enough—the pleasure crashed through me like a wave, making me arch against him, my muscles clenching around his fingers as I came, trembling all over, a hoarse moan escaping despite my efforts to hold back.
He didn’t stop kissing my neck, his lips soft now, slower, as I came down from the peak, my body limp against his, my legs almost giving out.
He withdrew his hand slowly, his wet fingers grazing my thigh before pulling me into one last deep kiss, calm and lingering, as if to seal what had just happened.
We stayed there, panting, his warmth still pressed against mine, and I knew that moment had changed everything.
The doorbell rang again.
This time, it was the pizza.
I was breathless, my hair a mess, my body still warm from his touch. Fernando stared at me for a moment, then let out a heavy sigh and stepped back, running his hands through his hair.
“I’ll get it,” he said, straightening his shirt and walking to the door.
I stayed there leaning against the wall, trying to pull myself together. My heart was still pounding in my chest, my mind a mess of conflicting feelings.
Fernando came back holding the pizza box and kicked the door shut behind him.
“Do you want to eat on the couch or at the table?”
The simple question made me smile.
“Couch.”
We went to the living room, and he set the box on the coffee table next to the wine. I grabbed a slice and he did the same, both of us eating in silence for a few moments.
The atmosphere was different now.
There was still tension between us, but it was something else. Something softer, more intimate.
“So…” Fernando broke the silence, leaning back on the couch with the pizza in his hand. “Your first weekend without me didn’t start the way you planned, did it?”
I looked at him and rolled my eyes.
“You have this habit of showing up when you shouldn’t.”
“I show up when I want.”
I bit into a slice of pizza and tried to ignore his smug smile.
“I thought tonight would be quiet.”
“And isn’t it?” He raised an eyebrow, bringing the wine glass to his lips.
I looked away.
“Not exactly.”
Fernando leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“Glória… What do you really want?”
The question hung between us.
My stomach tightened.
“I already told you. Just sex.”
He studied me in silence.
“And you can still believe that?”
I wanted to say yes.
But I couldn’t.
I took a sip of wine, feeling the warm liquid slide down my throat.
Fernando didn’t push. He just grabbed another slice of pizza and leaned back on the couch, as if accepting my answer.
We stayed there, eating in comfortable silence. The wine dwindled in the bottle, and my eyes started to feel heavy.
The day had been long. The last few weeks had been exhausting.
And being there, that night, beside him, gave me a false sense of normalcy.
My eyelids grew heavier.
The last thing I felt was the warmth of his body beside me and the woody scent of his skin.
---
I woke up hours later, the living room plunged in darkness.
The couch was empty.
My chest tightened.
Fernando had left.
I sat up slowly, and that’s when I noticed the small folded piece of paper on the coffee table.
My trembling fingers picked it up.
His firm, precise handwriting covered the note.
“See you tomorrow.”
Just that.
A promise.
A sentence.
I closed my eyes, feeling a smile tug at my lips.
I could try to run.
But deep down, I knew.
He would always find a way back.