Chapter 1

Luisa

I woke to sunlight slipping through the sheer curtains, warm and golden against my face, as if the morning had made a deal with the day to ease me awake. Arthur was still asleep beside me, dark hair tangled on the pillow, breathing slow and steady, one heavy arm draped across my waist. I lay there for a few seconds watching that face I already knew by heart — every line, every detail — feeling that rare kind of peace that only existed when everything seemed exactly where it belonged.

I slid carefully out of bed so I wouldn't wake him, slipped on my house shoes, and headed to the kitchen. The house was quiet, too big for just two people, but at the same time full of us. I made coffee, sliced fruit, put bread in the toaster, and let myself smile alone, thinking about how that simple routine had become my greatest luxury. When I went back to the bedroom, Arthur was already sitting up, rubbing his face with both hands.

"Good morning, gorgeous," he said, his voice still rough with sleep.

"Good morning, Mr. Valente," I replied, setting the tray on the dresser. "Coffee's almost ready."

He got up, came over, and kissed my forehead with care, as if that gesture were some kind of sacred ritual.

"You're up early again. Don't you ever get tired of taking care of me?"

"I like it. Besides, what kind of wife would I be if I didn't look after my husband?" I shrugged. "Someone has to make sure the great CEO doesn't leave the house on an empty stomach."

Arthur laughed — that easy laugh that always undid me. "I'd survive," he teased.

"Survive, maybe. But living well is a different thing."

We had breakfast together at the kitchen table, talking about small things — the weather, a show we'd started the night before, how strong the coffee was. It was in those moments that I felt our marriage wasn't built on grand gestures but on details that were almost invisible.

After breakfast, Arthur put on his jacket while I straightened his tie, smoothing the fabric with care.

"You're going to be late," I warned.

"Worth it if it's because of you," he answered, holding my hand.

I rolled my eyes but smiled. "Romantic. Now go."

He leaned in and kissed me again, longer this time, before rushing out. I stood at the door watching the car disappear, feeling that premature longing that always came, even though I knew he'd be back by the end of the day. I spent the morning handling things around the house — organizing paperwork, answering messages from my mom. In the afternoon, I met my best friend Ana for a quick coffee near home.

"You look good," she said, stirring sugar into her cup.

"I'm happy," I answered without thinking.

"I can tell. Is Arthur still perfect?"

"Imperfect in his own way," I corrected, laughing. "But perfect for me."

I got home before dark and started making dinner. Arthur arrived shortly after, dropping his briefcase on the couch with a tired sigh.

"Long day?" I asked.

"Always. But it gets better when I walk in here."

He came up behind me in the kitchen, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"There's something I need to tell you..." he said, his tone shifting.

My heart gave a small jump, but I kept calm. "What is it?"

"I might need to travel for work next week. A short trip. Two or three days at most."

I turned to face him. "Where to?"

"Out of the country. An important contract. Nothing I can't handle fast."

I took a deep breath, trying to push aside that pang of unease that didn't make sense.

"I'm going to miss you," I said.

"Me too. But I promise I'll call every day."

"CEO promises aren't worth much," I teased.

He laughed. "These ones are. I swear."

We ate dinner talking about the trip, about what he needed to take care of before he left, about silly plans for when he got back. Then we collapsed on the couch, watching something neither of us was really paying attention to, just enjoying each other's company.

"Lu," Arthur said suddenly.

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever thought about how quiet our life is?"

"Sometimes I think it's too quiet to be real," I admitted with a smile.

He pulled me closer. "Then let's enjoy it while it lasts."

That sentence echoed in my head longer than it should have. I pushed the thought away and rested my head on his chest, listening to his heart beating strong and steady. Before bed, we lay side by side talking about the future — trips we wanted to take together, simple dreams.

"I love you," he said, with conviction.

"I love you too," I replied, never imagining that happiness this ordinary could be this fragile.

The next morning, I woke before the alarm again, with the strange feeling that time was moving too fast. I made coffee once more, repeating the same motions, as if the repetition were a way of protecting what we had. Arthur appeared in the kitchen wearing a light shirt, sleeves rolled up, phone in hand.

"You don't have to do everything by yourself," he said.

"I know," I replied. "But I like this part of our life."

He put the phone away and came closer.

"Sometimes I think our routine is what keeps me sane," he confessed. "Work is chaos."

"Then promise you won't let it swallow you," I said.

"I promise to try," he said, and he meant it.

We left the house together — me to run errands downtown, him to the office. On the way, we stopped at a red light, and Arthur held my hand over the gearshift.

"You've told me I look silly when I do this," he said.

"I like your silly side," I replied.

He smiled, and the light turned green. I spent the afternoon organizing old photos into an album — memories from our wedding, trips, important dates. When Arthur got home, he sat down beside me on the living room floor.

"Is this new?" he asked.

"No. I was just forgetting to look at what we already have."

He picked up a photo of us at the beach. "We're happy," he said, as if he needed to confirm it.

"We are," I agreed.

That night, we ordered in instead of cooking. We sat at the table laughing at the mess of takeout containers.

"Think you'll survive without me during the trip?" I asked.

"No," he answered without hesitating. "But I'll pretend I will."

"Dramatic," I said, laughing.

"Realistic," he shot back, laughing too.

After dinner, we went upstairs to the bedroom. Arthur sat on the bed while I took off my earrings.

"When I get back from this trip..." he started, "I want to take a few days off. Just the two of us."

"Another CEO promise?"

"This time it's a husband promise."

I smiled. "Then I'm holding you to it."

We lay down, and before turning off the light, I stared at the ceiling, feeling a deep gratitude for that ordinary life, for that quiet love.

That night, I dreamed of simple things — laughter, lazy Sundays — and woke with Arthur still sleeping, his face relaxed. I lay there in silence, thinking that loving someone also meant choosing to stay, every single day, even when nothing extraordinary was happening. I got up, closed the curtains slowly, and climbed back into bed, fitting my body against his. Arthur shifted and mumbled something unintelligible.

"I'm here," I whispered.

He smiled without waking, as if he'd heard. And in that moment, life felt whole. I thought about how everything had started, how our differences had adjusted over time, creating something stable. There was no rush, no fear — just the comfortable certainty that this was our place. I breathed deep, holding that moment the way you hold a precious secret, never imagining that memory itself could fail.

I closed my eyes and let sleep take me again, believing tomorrow would be just another ordinary day, the same as so many others we'd lived through together. In that silence, everything felt safe. It was just love, simple and whole, breathing between us. And I believed it without question. With a light heart, I fell asleep. Without a trace of fear. In that moment, everything made sense. At least to me.

This is me, Luisa Martins — though I go by my married name, Valente. I've been married to Arthur Valente for two years, and I love him so much I don't know how far I'd go for him. I'm not from a wealthy family — I'm simple and I like the simple things in life — but I'm happy to have found someone like Arthur, even though we come from different worlds.

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