Part 2 \u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I could see the name.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Fernanda.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Of course it was Fernanda.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The message appeared only for a second, but an offended woman reads faster than the public prosecutor\u2019s office in payweek.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHas she seen it? I told you she was going to react. Don\u2019t get me into your problems, Ricardo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked at him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He placed his cell phone face down on the table, as if he had buried a body.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWho was it?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOf work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cStrange. At your job now everyone is called Fernanda.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His face hardened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDon\u2019t touch my cell phone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t move. Your guilt that lit up the screen by itself.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ricardo got up from his chair and started to walk from one side to the other, with that energy of a cornered man who tries to look indignant before looking guilty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2013 Look, she wrote me yes. So what? You posted a photo teasing everyone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI posted a picture of myself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWith that sentence.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWith my face.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTo make me feel bad.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked slowly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2013 Ricardo, you commented \u201cbeautiful\u201d on your ex\u2019s photo. If someone is making you feel bad, it\u2019s you with the internet included.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He ran his hand through his hair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt wasn\u2019t for that much.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That sentence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It wasn\u2019t that much.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They use it for everything. For lies, for humiliation, for a hand that stays too long where it shouldn\u2019t, for an absence disguised as tiredness. Men like Ricardo always have a special scale where what they do weighs little and what we feel weighs tons.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen don\u2019t worry,\u201d I said. Mine wasn\u2019t that much either.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I went to the room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I didn\u2019t slam doors.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I didn\u2019t cry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I took off my earrings in front of the mirror and looked at myself like someone who stares at a house after an earthquake: looking for cracks, not ruins.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ricardo stayed in the room, talking quietly on the phone. I didn\u2019t hear everything, but I heard my name, the word \u201cridiculous\u201d and a laugh that wasn\u2019t his.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was hers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That\u2019s when I remembered something I hadn\u2019t told.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Before posting my photo, I had sent a message to Fernanda.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not from a fake account. Not with insults. Not with threats.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I sent it directly:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHi, Fernanda. I saw Ricardo\u2019s comment. Tomorrow I\u2019m going to do one in S\u00e3o Paulo, in Vila Madalena. You\u2019re invited. I want to know if the problem is you, him or the version of me he told you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I thought she wouldn\u2019t answer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He answered in two minutes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI will.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That\u2019s what Ricardo didn\u2019t know.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The next day I woke up before him. I made brewed coffee, dressed up with jeans, a white shirt and sunglasses even with the sky closed. S\u00e3o Paulo woke up in his own way: buses passing by, horns, mate sellers screaming on the beach, and people running as if they were always late for something.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ricardo left the room with dark circles under his eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe need to talk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes,\u201d I said. But not here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat do you mean not here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIn a public place. Where you stop acting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He didn\u2019t like it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But it was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I made an appointment at the Municipal Market of S\u00e3o Paulo. Not by chance. Between pastel stalls, the smell of sugarcane juice, loud music and people shouting price, no one can fake elegance for long. The truth appears best where life makes noise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ricardo arrived angry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhy here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBecause here they sell food, confusion and sincerity by the kilo. Maybe you\u2019ll learn something.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I sat at a cafeteria table. I ordered natural guarana and a cheese pastry. Ricardo didn\u2019t ask for anything.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Five minutes later, Fernanda appeared.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It wasn\u2019t like in the beach photos.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hair up, sneakers, simple clothes and the face of someone who had not slept properly either. When Ricardo saw it, he got up so fast that he almost knocked over his chair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat are you doing here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Fernanda looked at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShe invited me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ricardo turned pale.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSomething you don\u2019t know how to do,\u201d I replied. Speak head-on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Fernanda sat down without asking permission. He put his cell phone on the table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI came because I\u2019m tired.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ricardo gritted his teeth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFernanda, don\u2019t put on a show.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She let out a dry laugh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShow?\u201d Ricardo, you wrote to me after two years without talking to me. He said that your marriage was dead, that your wife treated you like furniture, that you just wanted to feel seen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I felt a punch in the chest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not because I was surprised.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But because a part of me still wanted him to have limits.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDid you say that?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ricardo didn\u2019t look at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI was angry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Fernanda unlocked her cell phone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI also said that she was careless, that she doesn\u2019t dress up anymore, that you were ashamed to go out with her because she\u2019s always tired.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I felt that the hibiscus water turned into an iron in my mouth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was tired, yes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Tired of paying half of everything, ironing shirts that he said he couldn\u2019t find, remembering his family\u2019s birthday, washing dishes after dinners where he shone and I collected. Tired of hearing that I was \u201cintense\u201d for asking for the minimum.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGo on,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ricardo tapped his fingers on the table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cEnough is enough.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Fernanda didn\u2019t stop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen he started commenting on my photos. I told him not to get into trouble. He said that you never noticed anything.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I laughed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Low.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Dangerous.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHow curious.\u201d I spent my life thinking I couldn\u2019t see anything\u2026 And it was just tired of explaining what I saw.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ricardo leaned towards me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDo you want to destroy our marriage for a comment?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo, love. You destroyed with years of feeling single when it suited you and married when you needed hot food.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Fernanda lowered her gaze.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t come to take anything from you,\u201d she said. Seriously. I thought you were emotionally separated. That\u2019s what he told me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t need to explain anything to me,\u201d I replied. You\u2019re not my husband.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ricardo let out a bitter laugh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHow beautiful.\u201d Now you have become friends.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo,\u201d said Fernanda. Now I\u2019m just making it clear that the problem is you.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The lady from the cafeteria looked at us. A man drinking broth too. Even the boy in the orange stopped for a second. Ricardo noticed the audience and lowered his voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cLet\u2019s go home.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI said, let\u2019s go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnd I said no.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was the first time in a long time that this \u201cno\u201d came out without a tremor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ricardo looked at me as if he was seeing me for the first time. And maybe he was. Perhaps he had never seen the woman who existed below the wife who solved everything.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I took a briefcase out of my bag.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He frowned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2014Bank statements, rent receipts, payment receipts, and the apartment contract.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat for?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTo remind you of something.\u201d The apartment is in the name of the two. But I paid for the entrance. The main furniture was bought by me. The card you used for the trip to Cancun, where you followed Fernanda again, is in my name.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Fernanda widened her eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Richard whispered:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDon\u2019t do that here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d Are you ashamed to show that your masculinity is funded?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He stood up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019re crazy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There it was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The final word when the arguments are over.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Crazy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Intense.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Exaggerated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Dramatic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The four horsemen of the male apocalypse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I also stood up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo, Ricardo. It would be crazy to keep diminishing me for you to feel big.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I grabbed my bag.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Fernanda stood up with me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ricardo looked at her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t get involved.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She stared at him fearlessly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019ve already messed me up when you used my name to humiliate her.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We left the market.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Outside, Pinheiros breathed with its old trees, beautiful facades, cafes full of people working on laptops and broken sidewalks reminding us that even the elegant stumbles. We walked to Roosevelt Square, where the replica of the David seemed to observe everything with Renaissance judgment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Fernanda stopped in front of a rosewood.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked at her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDon\u2019t apologize for him.\u201d Apologize to yourself if you ever believed him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His eyes filled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI believed him because he also spoke beautifully when I was alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Absent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
How sad to realize that you don\u2019t compete with another woman.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sometimes you compete with the lie that one man sells to everyone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I went back to the apartment alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ricardo arrived two hours later.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
With flowers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Red roses from the market, still with a label.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cLove,\u201d he said from the door. I thought things through.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I stared at him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was something almost comical about that scene: the man I didn\u2019t know how to respect trying to buy forgiveness with a plastic bouquet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnd what did you think?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt just got out of hand,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo. It got out of his control.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He entered the room and left the flowers on the table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI love you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Before, those three words would have taken me apart.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That night they sounded like an expired password.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat do you love, Ricardo?\u201d Me? Or the woman who washed away your guilt, defended you with her mother, believed you were tired while you flirted and still felt wrong for complaining?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His face hardened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI also put up with things.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTell me one.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cExactly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I went to the closet and pulled out a suitcase. Not great. Enough for clothes, documents, my good earrings and the blouse from the photo shoot. Ricardo followed me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNow you\u2019re leaving?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo. You are the one who goes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He laughed incredulously.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHow?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe contract is in the name of both of them, but I spoke to the administrator. You have fifteen days for an agreement or you leave today with borrowed dignity. You choose.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou can\u2019t kick me out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou couldn\u2019t humiliate me in public either, and look at that\u2026 succeeded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His cell phone vibrated again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This time he didn\u2019t hide it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He turned angrily.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was his mother.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019ve told you everything,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo. But your cousin follows me on Instagram. Your family has eyes, it just takes time to use them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He did not answer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Another cell phone vibrated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then another.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Message from his brother:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIs it true that you were with your ex? The mother is crying.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I almost felt sorry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Almost.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But I remembered the \u201cbeautiful\u201d shining in another woman\u2019s photo as I ate sweatshirt cheese bread, still believing in marriage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ricardo sat on the bed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt was just ego,\u201d he said quietly. I just wanted to feel like I could still be desired.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It hurt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Because it was true.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnd what do I do?\u201d I asked. The appliance that clapped in the kitchen?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDon\u2019t talk like that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen you don\u2019t live like that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He began to cry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not loud.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Just enough to try to pull me back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But I had been out for a long time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019ll ask you something,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He lifted his face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhatever you want.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDon\u2019t ask me for forgiveness today so you can sleep peacefully.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It broke him more than any scream.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The next day he went to his mother\u2019s house.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Without dignity, but with two suitcases and a video game loaded as if it were something important. Before leaving, he stopped at the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSo it\u2019s over?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked at him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know if the marriage is over. But the version where you do it and I swallow it is over.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I closed the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I leaned against him, listening to his footsteps coming down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then I cried.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Of course I cried.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was not stone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I cried for the woman who compared herself to Fernanda without owing anything. For the one who stopped wearing dresses because he never noticed. So I thought that being a wife was swallowing small humiliations so as not to look insecure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then I took a shower.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I put the red dress back on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not for a photo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
To buy bread.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I went to a bakery in the Ibirapuera region. I bought a shell, a chocolate and a coffee. I sat on a bench and watched the city go by with dogs, offices, ladies with bags, young people with headphones and couples still not knowing what they would not forgive one day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The city went on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Me too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Days later, Fernanda sent me a message.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAre you okay?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I replied:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m learning.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She said:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMe too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We didn\u2019t become friends in the movie.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We don\u2019t go out to celebrate anyone\u2019s fall.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We only stopped being enemies in a story written by someone who needed villains so as not to look in the mirror.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ricardo tried to return.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
First with long messages.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then with photos of our dog, as if that would solve everything. Then audios saying that I was in therapy, that I understood, that it was stupid, that I didn\u2019t want to lose myself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I didn\u2019t answer at the time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not because I wanted to punish him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But because I didn\u2019t run to every noise he made.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Weeks later, I went to Avenida Paulista. I went up and saw the city from up there, immense, gray, golden, impossible. I thought about how it started as something else and ended up as a monument. Something incomplete that became destiny.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I liked the idea.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Maybe me too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That night I posted another photo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
No studio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A simple selfie, hair blowing in the wind, city behind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The sentence said:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThere are women who don\u2019t separate for lack of love. They separate because they finally chose each other.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I didn\u2019t tag anyone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I didn\u2019t give hints.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Even so, Ricardo\u2019s cell phone burned again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This time not by Fernanda.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He sent a message:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDoes that mean there\u2019s no turning back?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked at it for a long time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then I opened the window. Outside there was traffic, tamale sellers, dogs barking and people laughing on the sidewalk. Common life. Life that we lose when we spend too much time trying not to be humiliated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I replied:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know. But if one day there is a return, it won\u2019t be for the woman you diminished.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I put the phone on silent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I made coffee, broke the shell and sat on the couch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The same sofa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The difference is that now my faith was no longer in marriage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was in me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And that, for the first time in a long time, didn\u2019t feel half alive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It seemed whole.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Part 2 \u2026 I could see the name. Fernanda. Of course it was Fernanda. The message appeared only for a second, but an offended woman reads faster… <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4542","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/myanh.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4542","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/myanh.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/myanh.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/myanh.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/myanh.top\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=4542"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/myanh.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4542\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4545,"href":"https:\/\/myanh.top\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4542\/revisions\/4545"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/myanh.top\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4542"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/myanh.top\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4542"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/myanh.top\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4542"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}