Page 31 of Please, Forgive Me

“Okay, okay, but… now spill. What’s your ‘not so good’ news?” she pressed, leaning closer, curiosity flashing. “You said you had something to tell me too.”

I sighed. No escaping. I’d known Carol long enough to know she didn’t accept half-answers.

“Well…” I started carefully, choosing my words. “I told Diego I’m resigning at the end of the month.”

Her smile vanished, replaced instantly with shock and concern.

“What?! You actually said that to his face?” She straightened on the couch, laser-focused now. “How did he react?”

“He…” I sighed again, trying to collect my thoughts. “He didn’t take it well. Honestly, he thinks I only said it because I was drinking. But I meant it. And he’s definitely not handling it. We’re supposed to talk tomorrow, and… I don’t know, I just feel awful about all of it.”

Carol shook her head, processing.

“Of course he didn’t take it well, Gabi,” she said in that way she had of cutting straight to the point. “You’re essential to him—at work and… well, you know. In his life. He’s not going to let you walk away that easily.”

I knew she was right. Hearing it out loud only made the weight of it sink deeper.

I’d spent years pouring my time, my energy, my heart into this job—and into whatever this complicated thing with Diego was. And that was the problem.

Mixing business with personal was never smart. And now I was paying for it.

“I know. But I can’t keep doing this,” I said, my voice catching. “I love my job, but… being emotionally involved with my boss is making everything harder. I need to get out before it all spirals out of control.”

Carol nodded gently.

“I get it, bestie,” she said softly. “But what do you really want? Not what you think you should do—what does your heart say?”

I stayed quiet, her words hitting harder than I wanted to admit.

What did I want?

The truth was, I didn’t know. Part of me wanted to stay, to fight for what I’d built. The other part—the cautious one—wanted to leave before everything shattered.

“I don’t know yet,” I admitted. “But tomorrow… tomorrow I’ll find out. One way or another.”

As we sat there, talking on my couch, I knew tomorrow everything would change.

I just didn’t know how.

And that uncertainty scared me more than anything.

CHAPTER 13

“The truth may hurt, but lies eat away at the soul…”

DIEGO BITTENCOURT

I’d had a quick meeting with a few investors that morning, but now my mind was somewhere else. Something I’d been stewing over since we got back from the trip: Maria Gabriela.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d said, and, to be honest, it was getting under my skin. I wasn’t the kind of man who let personal issues interfere withwork, but with her everything felt different. And this idea of hers—resigning at the end of the month—that simply wasn’t going to happen.

I got up from my chair and walked to the big window of my office, staring out at the skyline that usually reminded me of everything I’d built. But right then, all I could hear was her voice saying she wanted to leave.

I picked up the phone and dialed her extension.

“Come to my office. Now.” My voice came out firm, leaving no room for negotiation.

Minutes later, the door opened. She stepped in, her expression composed, trying to project professionalism, but I caught the discomfort flickering in her eyes. I watched her a moment longer through the reflection in the glass.