The smell of hospital permeated every inch of that room. The sound of monitors, the hurried footsteps of nurses in the hallway, and the constant beeping formed a sad and suffocating soundtrack.
Alice was sitting on the bed, staring blankly at the window. The deep dark circles under her eyes, her pale face, and her empty eyes revealed the storm brewing inside her.
She no longer cried. There were no more tears.
Julia was sitting next to her, holding her hand. The two remained silent for long minutes, until, finally, Alice broke the ice.
"You know what's worse?" Her voice was low, bitter, almost a whisper. "It's not even losing the baby. It's realizing that I spent years... years of my life... begging for crumbs of a love that never existed."
Julia squeezed her hand tightly.
"Don't talk like that, friend..."
Alice took a deep breath, her eyes watery, but firm.
"I'm tired, Julia. Tired of humiliating myself, of begging, of waiting for him to look at me as a woman, as a wife... as anything other than a mistake from his past."
She turned her face, facing her friend with a strength she didn't even know she had.
"And you know what? It's over. I'm not going to live like this anymore."
The silence that followed was heavy, loaded with decision.
Henrique parked the car at the hospital as if arriving at a crime scene. His hands were shaking. His breathing was uneven.
He didn't know exactly what he felt. Fear? Guilt? Regret? Wounded pride?
As he approached the door of the room, he saw Julia coming out.
"Where is she?" he asked, seriously.
Julia looked him up and down, with disgust.
"You no longer have the right to ask about her, Henrique."
He tried to pass, but she blocked the entrance.
"Listen here, you scoundrel..." her voice came out firm, cutting. "If you dare hurt her again, I swear... I swear you'll regret it for the rest of your life."
Henrique narrowed his eyes, taking a deep breath.
"Get out of the way, Julia."
She huffed, crossed her arms, and before leaving, delivered the final blow:
"You know what's funny? You spent your whole life despising a woman who would have moved the world to make you happy. And now... congratulations. You managed to destroy her. But I guarantee you one thing, Henrique Torres... when she gets up — because she will, you can be sure — she'll never look at your face again. And then... who will be destroyed... will be you."
And she left, stomping her heel on the floor, leaving him there, standing, digesting every word.
Upon entering the room, Henrique found Alice sitting on the bed, holding a paper in her hands. Her look was different. There was no more pain — just emptiness. Just tiredness. Just exhaustion.
He tried to speak, but she raised her hand, interrupting him.
"No." Her voice came out firm, without trembling. "Don't say anything, Henrique. I don't want to hear excuses, or explanations, or lies."
He frowned, uncomfortable.
"Alice, I..."
"Enough." She took a deep breath, squeezed her eyes for a few seconds, and when she opened them, she was decided. "I'm asking for a divorce."
His words stuck in his throat.
"W... what?"
"That's right what you heard." She extended the paper. "The authorization for you to sign. I've already talked to my lawyer. I... I don't want this anymore. I don't want you anymore. I don't want this marriage that only exists on paper. Enough, Henrique."
He took a step back, as if he had been punched.
"You're not serious..." his voice came out lower, almost shocked.
Alice smiled. A sad, bitter smile... but, above all, a smile of someone who finally understood her own value.
"For the first time, Henrique... I'm being more serious than ever in my life."
He ran his hand through his hair, nervous, beginning to feel something he didn't know how to name: dread.
"You're hurt... you're at the height of pain... you're not thinking straight..."
She stared at him, coldly.
"On the contrary, Henrique. For the first time, I'm thinking clearly. I waited for you. I waited a lot. I waited beyond what any sensible woman should wait. And you know what I learned? That whoever waits too much... gets lost. And I... I'm tired of getting lost in you."
Henrique narrowed his eyes, averting his gaze, suffocated.
"Alice..."
She extended her hand, interrupting again.
"Please... just leave." Her voice was choked, but firm. "Get out of my life. Leave me alone. Let me rebuild... without you."
Henrique stood still for a few seconds, not knowing whether to argue, apologize, beg... but he did nothing.
He turned his back... and left.
Alice was alone in the room, watching the door that Henrique had just closed. Silence took over the environment, and she took a deep breath, trying not to give in to the weight that squeezed her chest.
Her hands were shaking, her heart was beating fast, but, within that turmoil, there was something new: relief.
A bittersweet relief, it's true. It still hurt. It still burned. But, deep down, she knew that this was the first step to free herself from a life that only made her feel small, invisible, insufficient.
She got out of bed slowly, walking to the bathroom mirror of the hospital. She rested her hands on the sink, looked at her own image, and almost didn't recognize herself. The haggard face, the deep dark circles under her eyes, the eyes red from crying so much.
But, behind that broken image... she was still there.
"This ends today." She whispered to herself, with a choked voice, but full of firmness. "It ends today, Alice."
She wiped away her tears, took a deep breath, and, at that moment, made a silent promise: she would never put herself second again. She would never accept less than she deserved. She would never annul herself for anyone.
Not for Henrique.
Not for any man.
Meanwhile, in the hospital parking lot, Henrique was inside the car, stopped, with his hands holding the steering wheel, staring blankly into nothing.
His head seemed about to explode. His chest squeezed in a way he had never felt. It was discomfort, it was anguish, it was... emptiness.
For the first time, he realized that maybe... he had lost.
Lost for real.
Alice's words echoed in his mind like knives:
"I waited for you... I waited beyond what any sensible woman should wait. And you know what I learned? That whoever waits too much... gets lost. And I... I'm tired of getting lost in you."
He ran his hand through his hair, took a deep breath, squeezed his eyes, but it was no use. The guilt was a chain suffocating his neck. The scene of her in the hospital, fragile, destroyed, but so determined... that destabilized him in a way he never imagined possible.
For a second — a single second — he wanted to run to her, kneel down, apologize, beg her not to give up on him.
But pride... always it... prevented him.
After all, it was easier to convince himself that Alice was just hurt. That she would give in. That she always gave in.
The problem... is that, this time, it didn't seem like she would give in.
The next day, Alice was discharged. Julia went to pick her up, carrying a suitcase with her things.
Upon leaving the hospital, Alice breathed the cold morning air, closed her eyes, and, for a brief moment, felt freedom touch her skin.
"And now?" asked Julia, holding the suitcase.
Alice smiled wryly, still fragile, but determined.
"Now... now I start from scratch."
She looked ahead, as if seeing a new path.
"I'm going to start over, Julia. And, this time, it's not for anyone. It's for me. Only for me."
Julia smiled, squeezing her friend's shoulder.
"That's right, my friend. You deserve much more than that."
As the two walked away, Henrique watched them from afar, inside the car, hidden, unable to get out. Unable to face what, deep down, he knew: that she was leaving... for good.
And the worst of all?
She didn't look back.
Not even once.
That night, Alice was packing her things at Julia's house. She put away her clothes, separated documents, and, between silent tears and long sighs, began to write a new story.
In the middle of the mess, her cell phone vibrated. An unknown message.
"Good evening. My name is Arthur. I think we have a friend in common. Julia told me about you... I'm sorry to invade like this, but... if you accept, I would love to offer you my help in this fresh start."
Alice read, rereading, frowning. Her heart squeezed, suspicious, hurt, tired... but, at the same time, a spark of curiosity ignited.
She took a deep breath, looked at the screen, and, with a half smile on the corner of her lips, replied:
"Good evening, Arthur. Nice to meet you. Maybe... it's a good idea to start talking."
And, without realizing... that simple "good evening" would be the beginning of everything she never imagined living.
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