Page 83 of Please, Forgive Me

But now, something inside me was changing.

Maria Gabriela.

No matter how much I tried to reason with myself, she kept showing up in my thoughts.

It wasn’t just about the baby. It was something deeper—something I didn’t want to admit but couldn’t deny anymore.

I looked away from Arthur, lost in my thoughts for a moment.

“Dad?” Arthur’s voice brought me back to reality, his eyes glowing with pride as he pointed to the tower he’d built. “Look!”

“That’s amazing, champ,” I said with a faint smile.

But my mind was already far away—lost between what I knew was impossible… and what, somehow, I was beginning to want.

MARIA GABRIELA

I’d finally made it to my last week at work.

I wanted to say I felt calmer—but that wouldn’t be true.

What exactly would come after leaving Amacel? It was a question that hovered in my mind constantly, especially during the quiet moments I spent alone.

There was a strange peace in knowing this chapter was about to end, but also a dull ache of uncertainty about what might come next.

It wasn’t just the fear of finding a new job—or of what my life would look like without the daily chaos of dealing with Diego Bittencourt. It was the unsettling sense that, somehow, he would still hold power over my life, even once I was gone.

I sighed, staring at my computer screen.

What was really waiting for me out there? Starting my own business? That dream had always lingered quietly in the background—a desire that never truly faded—but the financial risk still terrified me.

And now, being pregnant, the weight of responsibility pressed even harder on my shoulders. My thoughts drifted to the future—how it would be to raise a baby on my own, whether I’d really be able to handle it all.

Diego had this uncanny ability to cast a shadow over me. He manipulated, controlled, invaded every corner of my work life—and, in a way, my peace of mind. Even knowing there were only a few days left before I’d never have to deal with his demands again, a quiet fear still crept into my mind.

Lost in those thoughts, I was abruptly pulled back to reality by the sound of my phone ringing.

Diego’s firm, commanding voice on the other end summoned me to his office.

Of course. He couldn’t resist the urge to control me down to the very last minute.

I walked slowly down the hallway toward his office, a knot tightening in my stomach. When I stepped inside, he was sitting in his chair, watching me with an expression that, for a fleeting second, felt… different.

Almost like he wanted to talk, but couldn’t find the right words.

I drew in a steady breath, bracing for one of his usual clipped orders or complaints.

But this time, he stayed silent longer than I expected, his eyes fixed on me like he was lost in thought.

“You’re still going to the workshop on Sunday?” The question sounded less like a question and more like an order disguised as small talk. I almost laughed inwardly. Of course he’d make sure I was working until the very last second. “I’m counting on you being there.”

He never missed an opportunity to assert control. Even now, on the verge of finally getting rid of me, he was still demanding.

His tone was measured, almost testing. Something inside me knew this conversation wasn’t really about the workshop.

It was his final attempt to keep me under his control—to remind me that even outside these walls, I’d never be completely free of him. It was his way of reaffirming authority, of showing me he still had the upper hand.

I kept my face composed, refusing to let the waves of tension show. I mirrored his indifference, calm and cold.