Betrayal Before "I Do" - CHAPTER 1

Helena's heart pounded as she ran her fingers over the delicate fabric of her wedding dress. Every detail had been lovingly planned. In a few hours, she would be walking down the aisle towards the man she loved. Or so she thought.

Anxiety wouldn't let her sleep, so she decided to leave the hotel and walk through the corridors to clear her head. Fate, cruel and relentless, guided her to a room whose door was ajar. Muffled laughter and whispers echoed from within.

Her body froze as she recognized the voices. Guilherme, her fiance, and Isabela, her best friend.

The shock kept her static for a moment, but a painful curiosity made her take a step forward. What she saw hit her like a stab to the chest: the two were naked, entwined in the sheets, completely oblivious to her presence. Isabela's laughter mingled with Guilherme's hoarse moans of pleasure.

A wave of anger and disgust burned in her gut. Her fists clenched, and her eyes stung with tears she refused to let fall. But Helena was not the type to back down. With the strength of someone whose heart had just been shattered, she pushed the door open forcefully.

The impact made the two separate with a start. Guilherme's eyes widened, and Isabela brought her hand to her mouth, speechless. Helena stared at them for a long moment, tasting the bitter taste of disappointment and humiliation.

"What a beautiful scene!" her voice came out laden with sarcasm and pain. "Since you're having so much fun, maybe I should cancel the ceremony and leave the wedding to you two."

Guilherme jumped out of bed, naked and desperate. "Helena, it's not what you think!"

She let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, no? Then explain to me what I just saw, because I'm curious."

Isabela, lacking the courage to face Helena, just pulled the sheet up to cover her body. "I'm sorry..."

"Sorry?!" Helena repeated, feeling anger take over. "You were my best friend, Isabela! I trusted you! And you, Guilherme..." her eyes turned to him, full of contempt, "you're a coward. I'm not going to waste another second of my life on you."

She tore the engagement ring from her finger and threw it on the floor. Then, with the dignity of someone who knew she deserved much better, she turned and left, leaving behind what would be the worst day of her life – or, perhaps, the best, because now she was free to start over.

As she walked through the hotel corridors, Helena felt adrenaline pulsing through her body. Her mind filled with memories: the moments she believed Guilherme's promises of love, the confidences shared with Isabela, all the times she ignored the small warning signs. But now everything made sense.

She left the hotel and took a deep breath of the cold night air. Her eyes shone with a mixture of anger and determination. She wouldn't go home with her head down, she wouldn't let that betrayal define her. On the contrary, she would use this pain as fuel to become stronger.

With a sigh, she took out her cell phone and called a taxi. She didn't know exactly where she wanted to go, but she knew the future was open before her. And for the first time in a long time, she felt truly free.

Chapter 2: Drowning Sorrows

Helena left the hotel with hurried steps and her mind seething. The betrayal still throbbed in her chest, mingling with anger and the desire to forget. Aimlessly, she found a corner bar with flashing neon lights and went in, determined to drown her sorrows in something stronger than her pain.

She sat at the counter and ordered a shot of tequila. The liquid burned her throat, but it was exactly the sensation she wanted. Another shot came, and then another. The muffled sound of music and surrounding conversations seemed to echo too far away, as if she were trapped in her own bubble of frustration and disillusionment.

That's when he appeared. Tall, intense gaze, and a smile tinged with mystery. They didn't ask for names, they didn't exchange stories. They just toasted the night and oblivion. The shots piled up, laughter became easy, and the heat between them grew.

The touch started casually, a hand slipping down an arm, a knee brushing against another. The lingering gazes said more than any words. The electricity between them intensified with each minute, and Helena knew the night was far from over there.

"Shall we get out of here?" he murmured, his voice hoarse from alcohol and growing desire.

Helena didn't hesitate. She took his hand and left the bar, feeling her heart pound in her chest. They walked unhurriedly, as if they knew exactly where this was going. Before long, they were in a hotel room, and as soon as the door closed, their lips met in a hungry kiss.

The night unfolded in ardent touches, clothes ripped off unceremoniously, and drunken whispers of desire. He picked her up and pressed her against the wall, exploring every curve of her body with an intensity that made her forget any previous pain.

The sheets witnessed the fury and need that consumed them. Helena surrendered to pleasure without reservation, allowing herself to feel alive in a way she hadn't in a long time. Muffled moans and quickened breath filled the space as the night stretched on in waves of sated desire and new, uncontrollable impulses.

After hours, their intertwined bodies finally succumbed to exhaustion. Helena felt his heartbeat slow, as did hers. She looked at the ceiling, letting her mind wander. It wasn't love, it wasn't a promise, but it was everything she needed that night.

When morning came, sunbeams filtered through the window, and Helena slowly opened her eyes. Beside her, he slept, his expression relaxed, as if nothing else mattered. For the first time since the betrayal, she felt no pain. Just the strange feeling that a new path had opened up for her.

Without making a sound, she got up, gathered her clothes, and left the room. There was no need for goodbyes. That night was a closed chapter, a secret between two strangers who, for a few hours, had found comfort in each other.

Chapter 3: A New Beginning

Helena opened the apartment door and sighed as she entered. The familiar smell enveloped her immediately, bringing a bittersweet sensation. Her home was still the same, but she was no longer the same woman who had left there the day before. Everything seemed different now, as if a new version of herself was emerging from the ashes of a crumbled life.

She dropped her bag on the sofa and walked to the kitchen, getting a glass of water. Her reflection in the window showed tired eyes, an exhausted body, but a firm expression. She had survived the most devastating day of her life. And that was something.

She decided to take a hot shower, hoping to wash away not only the scent of last night but also the remnants of pain. The water ran down her skin, carrying with it memories she no longer wanted to hold. But it was impossible to stop the thoughts from returning to him. To the years they spent together, to the good times, to the broken promises.

As much as she wanted to move on, there were moments when sadness caught her off guard. Like when she saw his shirt still hanging in the closet, or when she bumped into the coffee maker he loved so much. Small reminders that made her swallow hard and fight back tears.

She took a deep breath and put on comfortable clothes. She needed to occupy her mind. She picked up a book from the shelf and threw herself on the sofa, trying to lose herself in the story. But the words blurred, and she realized her head was still too full. She got up and went to the kitchen to make tea.

Her phone vibrated beside her. A mix of hope and fear made her heart race, but it was just a message from a friend asking how she was. She smiled at the concern, replied briefly, and decided it might be a good idea to go out. She had spent too much time cooped up in that apartment, in the memories it held.

She put on some upbeat music and, gradually, felt a little lighter. She walked to the balcony and looked at the city below, bustling as always. Life went on, regardless of what happened. And she needed to go on too.

She picked up a notebook and started writing. Loose thoughts, confused feelings, everything she couldn't say out loud. It was a start. Small, but significant. Maybe she would never completely forget, maybe there would always be an echo of the past in her life, but that didn't mean she couldn't build something new.

As she finished writing, she realized she wasn't alone. She was surrounded by herself, by her strength, by her ability to start over. And, for now, that was enough.

In the following days, Helena allowed herself to explore new routines. She started frequenting a nearby cafe, where she enjoyed watching people and imagining their stories. She rediscovered the pleasure of cooking just for herself, without rushing, without expectations. Slowly, the pain began to lose its strength, giving way to the hope of a better future. And, even though there were still moments of sadness, she knew she was on the right path.