Chapter 4

Carolina,

After putting all my new things in the wardrobe, I picked an outfit and got dressed. Starting today, I was going to carry myself like a CEO's wife — inside the house and out. I went down to the dining room, and right on cue, he walked in. The maids were already setting the table, and I sat in my usual spot.

"I'm going back to the office after lunch, but I don't know what time I'll be home."

"That's fine, Henrique. I'm going out too. I don't know what time I'll be back either."

"Going out where?" I stared at him, not understanding the question. He didn't tell me where he went — why should I have to? "Answer me when I ask you something."

"I don't owe you any kind of explanation. Just like you don't owe me one." He slammed his fist on the table, making everything on it jump.

"You're my wife, and you're a woman. So yes, you owe me an explanation." I picked up my napkin, wiped my mouth, and stood up. For a month I'd cared more about him than about myself, but that was over now.

I walked out of the dining room still hungry, but I grabbed my purse, got in my car, and went to eat at a restaurant. I had my meal, but when I went to pay, the surprise hit.

"The card is being declined, ma'am. Would you like to try another one?" I opened my purse and tried another card, then another — all declined. I pulled out a hundred-real bill and a fifty and handed them over. "Thank you!"

I took my change and left the restaurant. I grabbed my phone and called Henrique.

"So this is how it's going to be? You blocked my cards?"

"If you want a fun life, work for it. I'm not funding your luxuries." I smiled and hung up on him. At least I'd already bought the clothes — if I'd known this was coming, I would've withdrawn some cash.

I drove to my old job, the one I'd quit when I got engaged to Henrique. I parked out front, went in, and talked to the owner.

"Carol, what are you doing here?"

"I need my job back, Mr. Vinicius. That is, if you haven't hired anyone else."

"I don't understand — are you having problems with your marriage? Your husband's a millionaire and—" I took a deep breath and let it out, and he read the situation. "You're hired. You can start tomorrow if you want. Ever since you saved Mrs. Rodrigues right out front, the lanchonete's been doing great. I'm about to open a second location."

"I'm glad to hear it. I'll be here tomorrow at the usual time. I'll grab a uniform from Giselle." He nodded and handed me the paperwork to sign.

Mr. Vinicius paid twelve hundred and fifty reais a month, but at least I'd have some money for emergencies. I'd lived on my own before, paying rent and everything, and I'd survived. Now that I didn't have those bills to worry about, it wouldn't be a problem. And on top of that, I'd have something to keep my mind busy instead of thinking about Henrique all day.

I drove home and tucked the uniform in the top shelf of my wardrobe, then sat down on the bed. I thought about what my life had been like since the day I got married. I'd been foolish to think that was the beginning of my happiness. How naive I'd been.

I lay down and drifted off, but I woke up to voices in the hallway. When I got up and opened the door, I saw Henrique, hammered, being half-carried by the blonde. They both looked at me, and she gave a smile that made my stomach turn.

"I wouldn't have come, but he was in bad shape. I hope you don't mind."

"I do mind. Hand him over and leave." I shoved her off Henrique — we were still married, and he had no right bringing her into our home. "Get out. I said go." She raised her hand in surrender and headed back down the stairs. I dragged Henrique to his room. He was so drunk he could barely walk.

I opened the door and laid him on the bed. I pulled off his shoes, and when I reached for the lamp, he grabbed my arm. I looked at him, confused, and he grinned like an idiot.

"You're my wife, right?" I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "Of course you are. I remember our wedding. I always thought you were beautiful when I saw you at that lanchonete, but you played dirty just to get me to marry you. And if you want me as your husband so badly, how about we make it real?"

He pulled me with some force, and I fell onto his chest, my feet still on the floor. He leaned up to kiss me, but I pulled my face away.

"I'm not your wife. I just carry your last name. And believe me, I regret it every single day." I broke free and got up from the bed, heading for the door.

I left his room without looking back and walked into mine. I started crying. He couldn't keep doing this to me — even drunk, he humiliated me. Maybe there was no other solution. Our marriage never started, and it never would.

I went to the bathroom, took a shower, and lay down to sleep. In the morning, when I woke up, he was standing in my doorway, leaning against the frame, watching me.

"Get dressed and pack a bag. We're taking a trip."

"I'm not going anywhere with you. Besides, I can't — I have things to do." His eyes traveled down my body, and when I followed his gaze, I realized the blanket had slipped off. I didn't cover up. He needed to see what he'd lost because of that blonde.

"You don't have a choice. It's my mother's birthday, and she's celebrating at the farm. We're leaving right now for Serra da Cantareira. Hurry up, or I'll take you without luggage and in your nightgown."

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