Page 45 of Please, Forgive Me

No. No, it couldn’t. Diego had used protection. Besides, I hadn’t been with anyone else. There was no reason to worry… right?

Still, the doubt lingered—an unwelcome shadow in the back of my mind.

After a few deep breaths, I splashed some water on my face, then walked back to my seat, doing my best to act like nothing had happened.

Diego looked at me with quiet concern, but he didn’t say anything right away. He knew me well enough to know I hated showing weakness—especially in front of him.

“You alright?” he finally asked, his voice calm and measured, careful not to overstep.

I nodded quickly, forcing a small smile.

“Yeah,” I said. “Must’ve been something I ate.”

He studied me for a second longer, weighing my words, before turning his attention back to the papers in front of him.

I tried to sink back into my seat and relax, but the unease didn’t fade.

Not just in my body… but in my mind.

DIEGO BITTENCOURT

Quick turnaround trips—even same-day ones—were normal for me.

Doing them two or three times a month, especially on weekends, had become part of my routine, and Maria Gabriela was used to it by now.

Besides, I always made sure she got a generous bonus at the end of the month whenever travel was involved.

It was only fair.

We were in the conference room of one of our São Paulo offices, where the soft light from the glass panels brightened the sleek, minimalist space. The city outside felt distant, almost irrelevant compared to what we were about to discuss.

It was time to face the investors.

They sat around the table, attentive, while I began the presentation. Maria Gabriela stood beside me, as always, her eyes sharp, ready to jump in whenever I needed her to fill in the details.

“We’re here to discuss the new 5G network expansion,” I began, using the same confident tone I always did in business meetings. “Amacel’s goal is to extend high-speed internet coverage to an even larger part of the country, and we’re projecting significant growth over the next two years.”

My job was to convince them that our plans were solid—that their return was guaranteed. And I knew exactly how to do it.

“We’re talking about a strategic expansion into regions with high connectivity demand,” I continued, “focusing on leveraging our cutting-edge technology to ensure a fast and efficient rollout.”

As I spoke, I could feel Maria Gabriela watching me discreetly, the way she always did during meetings. It was as if she were constantly analyzing, processing, absorbing everything.

She never missed a single detail—and that was one of the things I admired most about her.

The meeting went on smoothly, and when I finally wrapped up, the investors looked convinced. They began to leave one by one, exchanging polite goodbyes with me and Maria Gabriela until, at last, the room was empty.

Silence settled in, replacing the intensity of the discussion that had filled the air moments earlier.

I leaned back in my chair, letting out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. When I glanced at Maria Gabriela, she was still beside me, gathering documents, her focus unwavering.

But something had been bothering me for days—something I couldn’t keep ignoring.

I needed to know.

“Maria Gabriela,” I said, my voice calmer than usual.

She looked up, surprised by my tone.