Ana Oliveira

Four years ago...


On the night Josiah left me, Marta wouldn’t let me be alone. She lay beside me, holding me tightly, crying, apologizing for something she hadn’t even done. I was so sad, so... shocked by how things had turned out that I couldn’t even close my eyes. I spent the entire night replaying every damn detail.
How could he do this to me? I had given myself, trusted Josiah, believed he was the perfect man, my safe harbor. How could he? He didn’t even let me speak. I had thought I had a soulmate, someone I would marry, have a family with...
Indignation crawled over my skin, but rage was intermittently replaced by sadness. Flashbacks of our moments danced in my mind, moments when we swore eternal love, when we dreamed of our future, our children...
At every moment, his smiling face appeared in my mind with the damned reminder in bold black text that I would never see him smile at me again. Then that image was replaced by his face screaming and hurling insults, and my heart was crushed.
Josiah was going to propose to me... I clenched my hand tightly around the solitaire ring I had found among the sheets, the jewel he had thrown on my body. I cried copiously as I slid out of bed, making an effort not to wake my mother-in-law, who had finally managed to doze off.
I didn’t even bother to put on proper clothes, didn’t care about changing out of the long gray cotton pajamas as I threw the black bag over my shoulder, holding the ring tightly against my palm.
I took a taxi from the condo entrance as rays of sunlight began to peek through the clouds and the rain seemed to finally ease. I remained silent during the ride to Ipanema.
My face was swollen, my eyes burned, my entire body felt sore. The arm Josiah had gripped had marks beneath the thin pajama jacket. I sighed, feeling that even my lips seemed swollen.
“God knows everything, miss...” the taxi driver said.
I looked at the rearview mirror, where he was watching me through square glasses. He was an old man, probably older than Marta. His gaze was one of pity. I couldn’t muster the energy to respond. I was drained and lacked patience for things I couldn’t believe at that moment.
After paying the fare, I got out in front of a nine-story residential building across from the beach. I pressed the intercom at the lobby and identified myself, saying I wanted to go to the penthouse. While I waited for them to let me in, I looked around. A cold wind cut through the air, blowing my hair around. The sea was rough, with immense, angry waves crashing on the sand, and a spiral of dark birds performed a dance in the section of the sky above that stretch of beach. The merciless waves reminded me of Josiah. They reminded me of how he had unleashed all his fury with the force needed to shatter my heart into pieces.
“Come in!” the doorman announced through the intercom.
I heard the man press the button to unlock the gate. As I ascended to the penthouse, which occupied the entire top floor of the building, I pondered how uncontrollable life was. I had no control over how my relationship had gone to hell.
When I arrived at the white door before me, I didn’t need to ring the bell. Isabela opened it wide and stared at me for a long time. There was no makeup on her pale face. She looked very angelic and sweet, clad in a red plush pajama.
Isa had finally moved out of her mother’s house. Her entire family was very wealthy, truly rich; her paternal grandmother was one of the women listed among Brazil’s top millionaires, and had gifted her the penthouse.
Isabela had a strong connection with her grandmother but was never able to reveal the truth about what her stepfather did to her. After all, the man was a judge in a powerful position and constantly threatened to use his power to destroy those around him. Isa was terrified he would do something to her deceased father’s mother...
It was horrible how Diana, my friend’s mother, never managed to leave the man who so badly mistreated her daughter. The woman was a renowned researcher in stem cell research. Her emotional dependency was immense because, from some horrible confidences I had learned, she had witnessed things Isa had been subjected to and hadn’t defended her.

"Come on, shit ..." Isa called, pulling me into a hug. As soon as my body was enveloped by hers, I started crying uncontrollably. Isa led me into her home, guiding me to a sophisticated sofa in a room divided into three areas, with high light-toned walls and a spectacular view of the sea ahead. There was a huge red grand piano next to the sofa. I had seen Isabela there many times, perched on that stool, playing sad melodies in a lost manner. My friend had a natural talent for the piano, and she had the most beautiful voice I had ever heard.
Isabela always dreamed of studying Music, but her mother humiliated her so much, saying her voice was ugly and her appearance was deplorable for a singer, that my “broken little girl” ended up giving up. Ber and I tried to make her understand that Diana was cruel, that none of that was true, but the criticism really made her reject the idea. She ended up enrolling in a Marketing college, which she didn’t even like.
I already knew the place where we were, after all, once she moved in, we started spending a lot of time together. The moments with her were always magical, talking about our lives, laughing, binge-watching series. Sometimes we would leave college and spend the rest of the day at the beach, drinking mimosas and mocking the arrogant guys who came to hit on us.
"Bernardo called me..." she said, bringing me back to reality, sitting beside me and pulling me to lay my head on her lap.
"Jow is really an idiot!"
"Does Bernardo also think I betrayed his friend?" I asked.
"Yes..." she whispered after a long pause. "What was Lucah doing in your room?"
Hearing that question felt like an ice stake was being driven right into my chest.
"Do you also think I would betray Jow?" I shouted, sitting up, feeling the air escaping my body.
Isabela looked at me, scared, shaking her head and denying, as if she were about to cry. Her childlike, round face began to flush.
"Don’t shout at me!" she tried to order, but it sounded like a plea, and my whole body relaxed. "Of course not! I know how much you love that 'pain in the ass.' And I was disappointed in Ber for considering the idea that you would betray Josiah."
I took a deep breath, relieved that she believed in me. Seeing how well she knew me and had confidence in my character. I told Isabela all the details of the night while she walked over to a white lacquered console in the right corner of the room, in front of a wall with a very light wood slatted panel. She took a crystal pitcher of water and filled a glass, then handed it to me. My throat was really burning because I was speaking frantically.
I drank the water, all the while clutching the damn ring in my fingers, feeling it almost pierce my skin. When I finished telling the story, Isabela was standing in front of the sliding glass door that led to the balcony, with her arms crossed, staring at the view ahead. I set the glass down on a round mirrored table next to the sofa.
"Josiah is really an idiot, isn’t he? I already suspected he was a bit of a fool... And Ber? How did he not realize that Lucah is gay, man? He’s super sharp and observant, yet he missed that detail..."
"Haven’t you told him anything yet?" I asked, shocked that she hadn’t told Bernardo.
"No, right? You asked me not to tell!" she warned. "Why don’t you look for Josiah and clear things up? If it’s really over, make it clear that you never betrayed him and that he was the jerk!"
"I don’t have to look for him, Isabela! Jow was a bastard to me, humiliated me in front of the whole street, threw this damn ring in my face!" I grunted, showing her the ring. Isabela pressed her lips together, seeming sad about everything I was telling. "If it were up to me, he can think whatever he wants for the rest of his life because he could have handled everything differently."
"I think it’s not just Josiah who could have changed things. You could have done it too, if you had stayed away from that jerk."
It’s incredible how you cut the guy so much slack, even though he’s a pervert, just because he’s Jonas’s boyfriend!
I furrowed my brows, noticing the acidic and irritated tone in her voice. Oh, damn it! I was at my limit, and that topic was really getting on my nerves. I had already explained to her the other day about the photo issue, about how Lucah was a good man.