Camila

Afonso — more than just a trusted lawyer — dropped me off in front of the house I'd lived in for the past four years.

I was coming from the hospital, where I'd spent the entire night alone. My best friend wanted to leave the city where she was filming a TV series — she had the lead role — just to come be with me, but I wouldn't let her. It wouldn't be fair to her.

I stood there, staring at everything, a hollow ache in my chest. I was never happy in this house. I did everything I could to make Sebastian see that I deserved to be his wife, that I was fulfilling my role. I took care of him, all of his needs — his clothes were impeccable, his shoes polished to a shine. When he left for work, he looked like a model. Flawless. Sebastian was so handsome.

As handsome as he was cruel. I'd never met a man so vicious. He seemed to enjoy watching me suffer.

When I was seventeen, my father died. He wasn't a good father — I always felt his contempt, probably because I was a girl, as if that made me useless. I tried so hard to be a good daughter, helping my mother with the housework. She was a good woman. She gave me affection, sewed clothes for me — even with simple fabrics, they were beautifully made. She taught me to sew. I love sewing, and it's the very thing that's helping me make the decision I need to make.

I'd made up my mind to leave. My lawyer had the divorce agreement ready. Everything was in order. All I needed was Sebastian's signature.

Yesterday we went to dinner at his mother's house. I hated those dinners. He forced me to go to every single one — I think because he enjoyed watching her and his siblings humiliate me. And to make it worse, she always invited the woman who tormented me, the one who wanted Sebastian for herself. According to them, Soraia Santos was the woman Sebastian was supposed to marry, and I had gotten in the way.

Only his father and grandfather disapproved of her. They said if he married "that adult film actress," as they called her, he'd be removed from running the family business.

At yesterday's dinner, I could feel the tension in the air. Edna stared at me with such contempt that I shrank into myself. Then his sister offered me a drink. I refused. I didn't trust her enough to eat or drink anything that passed through her hands.

Then Grandpa Manoel pulled me into a hug and led me to a private room.

"Come here, sweetheart. I'll have Mariza make you a nice drink."

"Thank you, Grandpa," I answered with a smile. God, I loved that man.

Mariza arrived with a beautiful glass filled with a shimmering drink.

"Mariza, this is delicious! You always outdo yourself!"

"You deserve it, honey. Made it just the way I know you like it," Mariza replied with a warm smile, and I thanked her with a squeeze of her hand.

"Now tell me, my dear — how's your life?" Grandpa Manoel asked once we were alone.

"I'm fine, Grandpa. Nothing new," I said, keeping my smile steady.

"What are you two doing in here all by yourselves, away from everyone? I bet you're talking about people behind their backs!" Edna appeared out of nowhere.

"Don't judge others by your own standards, Edna. We're decent people in here," Grandpa shot back, leaving her red with fury.

"You're insulting me!" she snapped.

"You insulted us first."

At dinner, Edna set a plate in front of me and one in front of Sebastian.

The moment I started eating, something was wrong. My throat burned, and it felt like my airway was closing. Sebastian was deep in conversation with Soraia.

"Sebastian," I called. He ignored me.

I called again. He turned around and glared.

"What do you want, Camila?"

"I'm not feeling well. I can't breathe."

"Don't be so dramatic! It's always something with you — always trying to get attention!"

My eyes filled with tears, but I refused to cry in front of these people. I took a sip of water and stood up.

"Are you all right, dear?" Grandpa Manoel asked.

I couldn't answer. I walked toward the exit of the mansion and called the driver.

"Lucas, please take me to the hospital. I'm feeling really sick."

Lucas ran to get the car.

"Ma'am, where is Mr. Sebastian?" he asked, not meaning any harm. I was on the verge of tears.

"He's staying. Just take me to the hospital and come back for him."

He agreed. We left, and I got worse on the way. He didn't know whether to focus on the road or on me. When we reached the hospital, he carried me to the reception desk.

"Please, she needs a doctor — she's—" I cut him off before he could say I was Sebastian's wife.

I filled out the form with my maiden name, and a nurse took me to a doctor's office.

They ordered a battery of tests and moved me to a room. When I told them I'd been eating when I fell ill, they rushed me in for a stomach pump — but not before collecting samples to figure out what I'd ingested.

The doctor came back later and told me I'd been poisoned with a toxic substance. If I'd eaten more, I could have been dead. I called Afonso to come to the hospital.

"Afonso, I need you to get the full medical report from the doctor — every detail about what I ingested. I also need the security footage from every camera in my in-laws' house. Every single one. And Afonso, I need that divorce agreement I asked you to prepare. It's time to set myself free."

"Thank God! Girl, I thought you'd never ask me for that."

"The time has come, Afonso. There's no reason to stay in this situation. They've put my life at risk — it could've been an attempt to kill me, or it could be a warning that they won't stop."

After that, I called my best friend and told her everything.

When I felt better, I slept. The next morning, I called Sebastian.

"What is it, Camila? What do you want?"

I realized he hadn't come home last night. I couldn't believe he'd left his parents' house with that woman and spent the night with her — after I'd left feeling sick.

"I'm—" He cut me off, cold as ice.

"I'm with my friends. See you at home."

I hung up and got dressed. When I got to the house, he still wasn't there. I packed a few things — only what I'd take with me. Some clothes I'd made myself, the pathetic little pieces of jewelry he'd given me. I left it all on the dresser. I packed a small suitcase and left it in the room next to ours.

I went downstairs, and an hour later he walked in, still wearing last night's clothes. He stopped and looked at me. I realized I hadn't changed either — same outfit from yesterday, having showered at the hospital and put on the only clothes I had.

"Why are you wearing the same clothes as last night?"

"Thank you so much for being such a warm, caring person," I said, the sarcasm dripping. "To answer your question — I slept at the hospital. After being poisoned at your mother's house."

"I could sue you for slander. You can't make up things like that about good people."

"Don't make me laugh! The only good people in that house are your grandfather Manoel and your father Osvaldo. But that's beside the point. Here's the divorce agreement. Sign it and hand it to my lawyer, Afonso."

"Seriously, Camila? Divorce? Who do you think you're fooling?"

I stared at his contemptuous face. I said nothing. Sebastian walked over to where I stood, towering over me. I looked away. He knew I loved him, and he used it against me. He grabbed me and kissed me. At first I thought about pushing him away, but I changed my mind. I gave in willingly. For the first time, I was going to use his body the way he'd always used mine. I stripped off all his clothes and explored every inch of his sculpted frame, kissing his mouth and every part of him. We gave ourselves over to pleasure for hours. Sebastian had never cared about giving me pleasure — he'd used my body as punishment. But today was our last time, so I surrendered completely. Three hours later, he got up and headed for the shower. I watched him go.

Then I went to the other bedroom, showered, grabbed my suitcase, went downstairs, and placed my wedding ring on top of the divorce papers on the table. I walked to the front gate and asked Lucas to take me to Leticia's house.

Sebastian

Yesterday we had dinner at my mother's place, and once again, Camila pulled something. She just up and left during dinner, claiming she wasn't feeling well. I was so annoyed that I left right after and went to meet my friends.

We went to our spot — the one only we know about. I didn't want to risk running into Soraia out somewhere. That was another one who wouldn't leave me alone. I got caught up in the guys' games, drinking and talking, and the night flew by.

"So tell us, Sebastian — what did Camila do this time? You showed up looking like you could murder someone," Leone said, laughing.

"Same as always. We went to dinner at my parents' house, and she just got up and left saying she felt sick."

"Where'd she go?" Gustavo asked, cracking up.

"How should I know? Probably home," I snapped, already irritated.

"Sebastian, you didn't even call her? What if somebody put something in her food?" Pedro Henrique asked.

"What are you talking about? Who would do that? We're talking about my parents' house!" I fired back, ready to strangle this so-called friend.

"You play dumb sometimes, Sebastian. Your mother and sister hate Camila. I don't even know why you keep taking her there."

"My mother just doesn't like the way Camila forced her way into our family — crawling into my bed after drugging me. My father and grandfather love her, though. God knows why."

"Maybe because she's a wonderful person? She was a kid, Sebastian — seventeen! You said it yourself: she was desperate, crying, begging you not to do anything to her, saying she was confused and disoriented."

"And you think I should've believed that story? I must be a real fool."

"Who else was at dinner tonight?" Leone asked.

"Besides the family, just Soraia."

"See? Your mother always brings that woman around to humiliate Camila. You should just leave her at home. You never take her anywhere except your parents' house, and then you just sit there watching while they tear the poor girl apart."

"Camila is nobody's victim. She schemed her way into marrying the biggest businessman in this city," I shot back. I came out here to relax, and now I'm getting a lecture from this clueless idiot?

"You know what, Sebastian? I care about you — I'm a real friend. But I can't accept the way you treat that girl. She was a kid. You have the resources to find out what really happened that night, but you never bothered to look for the truth. You spent all these years making her pay for something she may never have done. And another thing — you made a three-year contract: if no feelings developed, you'd divorce and go your separate ways. So why are you still married to her?"

"That's none of your business. Go take care of your own sad, boring life."

"Both of you, stop it!" Gustavo, who'd been quiet until now, cut in. "You're not going to fight."

After that, we dropped the subject.

Memories of that night, four years ago, flooded my head.

I'd been at a business dinner at a grand hotel, surrounded by executives and entrepreneurs. At some point, I started feeling smothered — dizzy, off-balance. I tried to slip out.

I remember leaving discreetly, not wanting to draw attention. In the hallway, someone approached. A man. He knew me — he propped me up.

"Stay calm, Sebastian. You'll be fine. Come on, I'll take you somewhere to rest. You'll feel better soon." I couldn't place the voice.

He brought me to a room.

"Lie down for a bit. It'll do you good."

I was alone, fighting to breathe, terrified of a panic attack. I went to the bathroom, splashed water on my face, practiced breathing exercises. I considered taking a shower but didn't feel steady enough. I went back to the bed.

I couldn't believe what I saw. There was a woman — completely naked — in the room. She must have walked into the wrong one.

She came toward me, and I froze.

"I'm so hot. It feels like I'm on fire. Can you help me?"

I moved closer to guide her out, but she grabbed me and kissed me. The girl was desperate, rubbing one leg against the other. She really was burning up. I lifted her and carried her to the bed. I don't remember much of that night — just confused flashes.

The next morning, I woke with a splitting headache. I heard a soft sobbing and turned toward the sound.

If I hadn't been lying down, I would've collapsed. There was a girl next to me who didn't look older than fifteen.

What had I done?

I turned on her, furious.

"Who are you? What are you doing in this bed with me? Did you drug me?"

She was terrified, just shaking her head no, getting dressed in a panic.

"I didn't do anything, sir. Please believe me. I don't remember anything. Please don't kill me."

I looked at her. The girl was a wreck. Then I noticed — I hadn't been gentle. I saw blood on the sheets. My God. What had I done?

She was covered in bruises, her whole body marked. She threw on her clothes any which way and ran out, disappearing before I could make sense of anything.

"Sebastian! Earth to Sebastian!" I heard Leone calling me back.

"You're clenching your jaw — the thing you do when you're furious," Pedro Henrique pointed out.

We stayed up all night talking. They drank; I switched to tonic water. My stomach wasn't reliable — the pain was brutal when my esophagitis flared up. One of the things Camila did for me was manage my diet. Every single day, she prepared healthy meals and brought them to the office — food that was easy on my stomach. I never understood why she did it, considering I'd never once thanked her.

When I got home, it was almost nine in the morning. Camila had the look of someone deeply offended. She handed me the divorce papers. I found it amusing.

When I decided to show her exactly why she'd never leave, I was caught off guard by a woman who was intensely present and willing. Camila left me dizzy. We made love for hours. Afterward, I got up and went to shower.

I came back to the bedroom. She wasn't there. Probably showering in the other bathroom — we'd never showered together. She'd be back soon enough, wearing that satisfied expression.

She didn't come back. Even though I was exhausted, I went to the kitchen to eat. She wasn't there either. Where had this woman gone? I checked the living room.

Not there.

"Camila!" I called. No answer. I was heading back upstairs when an envelope on the table caught my eye.

Inside was the divorce agreement. On top of it sat her wedding ring.

Was she playing games with me? Oh, Camila. You sweet, foolish girl.

I went back to the bedroom and waited for her. When she came back, I wanted the pleasure of laughing in her face.

What exactly did Camila think she'd accomplish with this little game? I lay down and waited for her to walk through the door.

Camila

Already in the car, I called my friend Leticia Margareth — a successful actress who'd always been my rock.

"Hey, my love. Did you finally escape the crypt?"

"I'm in the car. Heading to your place."

"Come right over, babe. Almerinda's waiting for you — she'll take care of you until I get there."

Once we'd driven far enough, I asked Sebastian's driver to pull over.

"Lucas, can you stop here and call me a cab?"

"Why, ma'am? I can take you wherever you need to go."

"No, thank you. I don't think Sebastian will care where I am, but it's better if you don't know."

He pulled over and called a taxi service. One arrived quickly. He helped me with my small bag, and I told him to head back.

At Leticia's house, Almerinda greeted me with a tight embrace.

"Welcome, sweetheart. I'm going to take care of you just like I take care of my other girl, Leticia."

I thanked her and followed her to the room where I'd be staying.

Leticia called, worried about me. She wanted to do more.

"Came, are you okay? I'm sorry — I wish I could be there with you," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

"It's fine. It's not like I'm dying. Whenever you can come, it'll be wonderful. But focus on your work."

"We've been filming nonstop. Next week we're taking a break for press — we'll do some interviews, TV appearances, social media, all the promotion channels. My agent is scheduling everything. We'll be together soon. I'll help you get through this."

"Thanks, babe. I love you so much."

The week flew by. Afonso gave me no news about Sebastian. I was furious, but I wasn't going to go looking for him — that was probably exactly what he wanted. It would be idiotic. Eventually he'd realize signing was the right thing to do.

Leticia was coming home. I could barely contain myself. Since she'd started filming the series, she hadn't stopped — character workshops, finding the right tone for the role.

The driver went to the airport. I preferred to wait at the house. I'd been avoiding going out — I didn't want to risk running into Sebastian or anyone connected to him.

"Babe! Came!" I raced out of the bedroom and found the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen.

"Lete!" I threw myself into her arms. We stood there, soaking in a hug that was the truest expression of love between sisters.

We had so much to talk about that we didn't stop. We were having lunch by the pool.

"And your brother, that useless waste of space?" Leticia asked, chewing on a shrimp bigger than her mouth. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Haven't heard from that irresponsible deadbeat."

"Did you ever tell Sebastian that it was probably Marcelo who drugged you and put the two of you in that room?"

"He never wanted to hear me out. He always preferred to blame me, to mistreat me for something I was the biggest victim of. But I've woken up, babe. It's over."

"You have no idea how happy I am for you."

Afonso called and said Sebastian was dodging him — dodging everyone trying to serve the divorce papers. He genuinely didn't want to accept them.

I was stunned. Couldn't he make even the slightest effort to be human? He hated me, he mistreated me, and when I tried to take control of my own life, he dismissed my decision like it meant nothing? Not this time. This was different. I was going to have my freedom. I'd disappear from this city — I didn't want the displeasure of ever seeing that man's face again.

Leticia went out for an interview, and when she came back, she told me there was an event at a luxury hotel — a ceremony honoring the year's best professionals.

"You're coming with me to that event," she said, leaving no room for argument.

"Leticia! Are you insane? I'm not going. There's no way I'm facing that whole pack of socialites — friends of that man."

"Hey, look at me. Sebastian is avoiding you. We go to that gala, and you introduce yourself to everyone. Right there, in front of the whole room, you tell them you want a divorce and he's been ignoring you. It'll be a slap across his face — and his mother's. Not to mention that adult film actress who's permanently attached to him."

"Babe, I don't have the courage. I'm shaking just thinking about it."

Leticia called in a hairstylist, makeup artist, and manicurist. She said it was to give me courage.

"You're going to wear a gorgeous dress from the Bia Max line. You deserve the best."

"I don't own any designer gown by Bia Max!"

"But I do. And you're wearing it."

When the time came, we took a limousine. Leticia wanted to make an entrance at the ceremony. I was terrified, but determined to put an end to this miserable chapter. I'd suffered enough. It was time to free myself — from Marcelo, my useless brother, and from Sebastian and his toxic cruelty.

Afonso, my lawyer, was already inside. When the moment was right, he'd signal me to come in and finish this once and for all.

When he said it was time, we walked in. Sebastian had just won first place and was basking in the spotlight, preening, sycophants swarming around him like flies on honey. Leticia led me to the emcee and borrowed the microphone. She checked it herself, then handed it to me.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you'll allow me one moment — I need everyone's attention. I promise I won't take much of your time." I saw the exact second Sebastian realized it was me speaking. His glare burned through me. If he could have killed me right there, he would have. "My name is Camila Medeiros. I've been married for four years to Sebastian Medeiros, who is here tonight. Sebastian, I'm still waiting for that signed divorce agreement. I don't want this marriage anymore — it no longer serves me. Afonso, my lawyer, is here to arrange a time with you at the civil registry office tomorrow morning. Let's close this chapter and move on with our lives, shall we? And Sebastian — remember what I told you about my hospital visit that night? I have the medical reports in hand. Don't make me go to the press. I don't want that. I just want to divorce you. So tomorrow, when the registry office opens, I'll be there. Don't keep me waiting, Sebastian."

I handed back the microphone and walked out. This time, I wasn't going to let him make me small. I knew he understood what I meant — he wouldn't want a scandal tarnishing his perfect family.

We left and went out for drinks. I needed to celebrate this act of courage. I was vibrating with happiness. Leticia hugged me and told me how proud she was.

Camila would look something like the woman in this photo!