Page 91 of Please, Forgive Me
“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath, a knot forming in my throat. That woman had managed to slip through every wall I’d built, and now that she was gone, I didn’t know how to function without her presence.
The sound of the door opening pulled me from my thoughts. I looked up to see Alexandre stepping in, his usual relaxed demeanor intact. His eyes studied me for a moment before he spoke.
“You’re still terrible at pretending you don’t care, Narcissus,” he said, his voice tinged with teasing—but there was something else in it too. Something that understood the weight of what was really going on.
“What do you want, Alexandre?” I asked curtly, glancing back at my phone, waiting for something—anything—while trying to hide the restless energy burning inside me.
“Just came to see how you’re handling all of this,” he said, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “Because honestly, it’s kind of entertaining watching the untouchable Diego Bittencourt lose his composure over a woman.”
“I’m not losing my composure,” I lied, my tone sharper than I meant it to be. “I’m just waiting for confirmation… about something.”
“Right, of course,” he said with that infuriatingly condescending tone of his. “Just waiting. Sure. You’ve probably already found a way to keep tabs on everything without being directly involved.”
I let out a heavy sigh and crossed my arms.
“So what if I have?”
“So what if you’re about to find out what you’ve known for months but refuse to admit?” Alexandre stepped closer, his voice quieter now, more serious. “You care, Diego. And I’m not just talking about the baby.”
I stood abruptly, walking over to the window.
He stayed silent for a moment, watching me. He’d always had that annoying ability to see straight through the things I wanted buried. And right now, he was seeing right through me.
“I just don’t get why you’re still keeping your distance,” he went on, taking a few steps closer. “The baby could be yours, Diego. And even if she isn’t, you miss her. At least admit that to yourself.”
I turned toward him slowly, tension coiled in every muscle of my body.
“That doesn’t change anything.”
Alexandre sighed, shaking his head.
“Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean you should keep pretending it does.”
He was right—but I wasn’t ready to face it.
Before I could answer, he started toward the door. He was halfway out when he turned back, his tone suddenly casual—but his eyes stayed sharp, watching me.
“Oh, I almost forgot to give you the news,” he said. “The delivery went well. It’s a girl. Her name’s Clara.”
It felt like the ground vanished beneath me.
Clara.
I’d never known a name could carry so much weight until that moment. It cut straight through the heart I thought I’d locked away for good.
“Clara,” I murmured, the word slipping out before I could stop it.
Alexandre gave a faint smile, the kind that said he knew exactly what that name meant to me—even if I wasn’t ready to admit it.
“If she really is your daughter,” he said quietly, “she’s going to be a force in your life, brother. So you’d better be ready for that—and for the consequences of what you did to Maria Gabriela.”
CHAPTER 37
“Love is the force that turns pain into hope…”
MARIA GABRIELA
I just wanted to be alone with my daughter—to stay there, watching her, as if the whole world had stopped around us.
