ANOTHER SINGLE-PEAK CRISISLara, Megan, and Clara were ready for the night. The address Jânio had given them was in an upscale neighbourhood. They took a taxi, and Megan had asked Lara to drive, but she didn't want to drive, making it clear that she would also be drinking. It meant that she was still not taking a break from drinking. Clara and Megan exchanged glances but didn't say anything about it.Lipe didn't actually intend to work at Dália's house that night as he had said, but he didn't want to stay home ruminating over Lara's departure. And he would definitely be thinking about it. He arrived at Dália's house with a beer in hand. Since Lara wasn't in the condominium, he decided he could enjoy a cold beer.The house was empty. Dália had told him she was staying at Clara's house for now. So he sat in her backyard, in the dark, opened the beer can, placed the other three he had brought on the ground, sighed, and leaned against the wall where the bags of cement and lime were piled
A HORRIBLE NEW FEELINGLipe only then paid attention, even though he was facing the guy, he wouldn't have noticed, as his expression hadn't changed, except for the pallor of his face, the whiteness and lack of color."Jesus, what's wrong?" he asked, not knowing what he could do. Standing up, he looked on in disbelief."Sit down again, son, put your head between your legs," Dalia instructed him. "That's it, you'll feel better soon."She held his head between his bent knees.It was the first time Otávio felt enraged and helpless, and it frightened him. The whole situation made him nervous: the lack of control, his mother's care, her concern in her voice, her touch. When Lipe placed his hand on his arm, he shook it off, stood up with the blood pumping rapidly through his veins, his heart pounding irregularly, and moved away from both of them.The colour returned to his face, erasing the worried furrow on his mother's brow. He crumpled the rest of the can but didn't throw it on the ground
SOLIDATION "How have your days been?" Patricia asked Lara."They have been better than in a long time, actually," Lara replied. And it was true. Sitting on the couch during another therapy session, Lara was much more relaxed, looking at the ceiling, wearing one of her floral jumpsuits, and chatting with her psychologist. "You know I'm still drinking, right?""Yes, I know. And how has it been?""I've been drinking much less, Patricia, and to tell you the truth, I haven't even been trying that hard.""That's wonderful!""Yes, I'm surprised too.""That's great, but what do you think about making more of an effort?"Lara adjusted herself on the couch, knowing she would have to talk about it. That she was sabotaging herself, procrastinating, and her psychologist was there to help her."I will do that.""I can't help you if you don't want help, you know, Lara? Nobody can help you if you don't want it.""I know that.""Have you been going to AA meetings?""I confess I also didn't go this we
DON'T TOUCH MY MANGA!Linda arrived the next morning to everyone's joy, especially Dalia, who clung to her and cried tears of emotion. Patricia, Patricia's mother Vanda, and Samara, Patricia's daughter who would soon be turning fifteen, were also present. The whole condominium was filled with joy, and Dalia immediately informed everyone through the group chat that they had to celebrate, as usual. The responses came quickly, one by one confirming their presence later in the day to meet Samara.Linda already had a feeling that the great-granddaughter's party would take place there, so they spent the day planning. Samara was a beautiful and well-mannered girl who didn't leave her mother's side for a minute."I can't believe we're having my birthday here!" the girl exclaimed, running excitedly throughout the condominium.Linda had to ask her to put the cats and dogs down because Samara couldn't stop picking them up and showering them with kisses."She's in love with animals," Vanda, the g
MUSIC, DOPAMINE, ENDORPHIN, AND MOREAnd they danced, and it felt so good!The music didn't require elaborate steps, so they simply held each other, with Otávio gripping her waist firmly and being led by her.Clara rested her head on his chest, closed her eyes, and savoured the moment. She could feel his warm hands, the temperature of his fingers penetrating the fabric of her dress, deliciously warming her skin. For the few minutes that the song lasted, she allowed herself to imagine that he was just like the other people there, that he was enjoying this idyllic moment as much as she was. She allowed herself to imagine that they were in a normal world where Otávio felt. He felt her.Because she felt him, God, how she felt him.His scent was dry, faint, no perfumes. It reminded her of the stories from romance novels she used to read when she was fifteen, sixteen years old. The smitten heroine would say she fell in love and adored the scent of the hero – the scent of dry wood on a starr
THE THREE KINDS OF TEARSWhen Clara and Otávio emerged from the trance they had been immersed in during their hour-long dance, their eyes cloudy and hazy, she pulled him by the hand and they sat down for a while."Let's rest a bit, shall we?" she said."Are you tired?" he asked."I thought you might be," she replied."I don't think I could ever get tired," he said, and his sincerity made her heart race. It wasn't a flirtation, she knew that, not coming from him, as he didn't even know how to flirt. For someone who had never danced, who couldn't stand being touched or close to anyone without recoiling, to have danced for over an hour pressed against someone and say that he could never get tired, well, it was surreal!"Let's get something to drink," she suggested, and they walked over to the table with refreshments. She grabbed a glass of juice for each of them, never letting go of his hand, and they sat in chairs next to the sound system.Clara noticed that he still had the drink in hi
TWO CHILDRENClara continued to stare at the door through which he had left, allowing her tears to flow freely. She curled up on the sofa in a fetal position and remained there for several long minutes, waiting to regain her composure before leaving. She didn't want to ruin her friends' party, Priscila's celebration. When she felt more composed, she felt someone sit down near her legs, and upon opening her eyes, Dália was looking at her with affection. Dália ran her hands along Clara's shins, providing comfort that made Clara want to cry even more.Dália stayed there for a few minutes without saying anything. Before leaving her alone, she kissed Clara's forehead. Dália had been there since the two of them entered. She had hidden in the dark room precisely to avoid watching them dance; she didn't want to be an overly curious mother. However, they didn't notice her in the dark room, and it was too late for her to leave when they started talking. At first, Dália thought Clara had come to
BOLTS APARTFrank returned with a bottle of vodka and a smile. Clara sat down next to him and nestled against his chest."Ah, I needed this today, some drinks and a shoulder to lean on, you know?" Clara said."No sex, of course, right? I was just joking when I invited you, just so you know. I noticed you had been crying and wanted to know if you want to talk about it," Frank replied."You're adorable, but I'm fine now," Clara reassured him."Bad day?" Frank asked."Bad night too," she replied, looking up at him and kissing him. His lips were soft and tasted like vodka. Frank responded to her kiss, enveloping her lips with his. Their tongues intertwined, and the kiss grew more intense. Clara was careful not to put too much weight on him, aware of his physical condition. She adjusted herself on the couch to kiss him better."Clara, my dear," Frank gently pushed her away. "You're delightful, but can we just stick to drinking?""Oh, of course, I'm sorry, Frank," she moved away from him."