Ana Oliveira Part 3
I spent hours reminiscing about moments with Josiah, looking at our photos on my phone, feeling my face hurt from crying so much. I played various voice messages from him on our phone chats. He had such a beautiful voice... Would I ever hear him call me “Sweetie” again? I had a deep understanding in my chest, the certainty that it would be very hard to forget Jow, to forget everything we lived through, to tear that strong and painful feeling out of my body. It would be a painful journey... And I had to try, because there was no other way but to forget him.
The darkness of the night was already creeping into the room, and my eyes could barely see anything in the dim light. My head ached, and my eyes were heavy from crying. The remnants of alcohol had started to wear off, so I called Marta. I told her about the fight with Isabela and then mentioned that it was finally time for me to go back to my own home. My mother-in-law resisted at first, adopting a tearful tone as she said she understood but would always be there for me, that her house was also mine, that I was the daughter she never had, and many other things that only made me cry even more. It was hard to make her accept that I would continue sleeping in my dusty bed, but in the end, she understood that I was resolute.
As soon as the day dawned, I got out of bed, dusting off my body. Well, I wasn’t born attached to Josiah. I lost my parents, my brother, and was abandoned by my aunt. I survived all those losses; I was strong as hell and would never try to die for anyone again! I would make it, overcome the difficulties, and rub it in that bastard's face that I was capable of going on alone.
Determined to move forward, I accepted Luana’s help and we went to the market in Marta’s car. We bought everything needed to clean the house. Later, I stopped by a furniture store and bought a dresser, a refrigerator, a stove, and kitchen utensils. I was afraid of spending too much money, so I bought only what was necessary. It was a busy day because I also hired a handyman to install the things, paying an extra fee to have the furniture delivered the same day.
I was alone, so I decided to save the money I had in the savings account from the sale of my parents' house. I would use the survivor's pension to cover my expenses, along with the income from my book. But my salary as a writer fluctuated a lot, so I didn’t rely too much on it.
My condo cost more than a salary, plus utilities, water, and now groceries, tuition... Heaven! I had to manage it all, but inside me, there was such a strong will to make it work that I felt I could do it.
When Luana left, after finishing cleaning the windows and doors, I continued the cleaning. There was so much dirt and dust that I was completely exhausted by the end of the day, with my grimy denim shorts, and no one could see the white underneath the layer of dust on my tank top. I was kneeling under the kitchen sink, cleaning the shelves beneath the plumbing, when I heard Marta’s clacking heels on the floor. I got up, wiping my hands on my shorts, and saw her carrying two pots. Smiling in a loose, thin pink dress, she said she had brought gnocchi with tomato sauce and orange cake. Then Lucah appeared behind her, carrying bags with bed and bath linens, dressed in his usual business attire. I was so moved that, even sweaty and dirty, I hugged Marta around the neck and cried. I whispered that I loved her. Marta returned the sentiment, wishing me all the best in my new phase.
When I finally managed to take a shower and lie down, the house already smelled better. And as I slept that night, I had a slight smile on my face. The only tear rolling down my cheek was when I saw through the slightly open curtain of the bedroom window that the jamelão tree in the yard was starting to bear fruit. I could see my father’s slender face, and as I was almost falling asleep, I almost heard him call me “Sweetie”...
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