The gate was still vibrating behind me when Rafael stood up from the first step. His face… too tight, too tense. It didn't look like anger — more like something between worry and indignation.
Before I could even open my mouth, he had already taken two steps toward me.
— You forgot you're not fully recovered yet? — His voice came out low, dry, firm. — Is this a joke to you, Helena? Do you want to get hurt again?
I rolled my eyes, but my heart gave that traitorous jump.
— Don't start — I muttered, walking closer. — I'm not a child.
— Then stop acting like one. — He pointed at my knee, irritated. — Walking around the whole city… and now showing up in a taxi, and wearing those shoes.
The alcohol burned at the back of my tongue.
I lifted my chin, standing so close that all I had to do was reach out to touch his shirt.
— I'm old enough to do whatever I want — I said, steady, looking straight into his eyes. — And I don't need anyone telling me how to live.
He didn't back off… his jaw tightened.
— At this rate you won't make it to Monday. You'll be back with another medical leave before classes even start, is that what you want?
— What I want, Rafael — I hissed — is for you to stop meddling.
He opened his mouth to argue, but stopped.
His eyes drifted to my face, then my hair, then my clothes.
And I saw it — the shift.From irritation… to something more contained, almost uncomfortable.
— You… you smell like alcohol. — He took a breath, clearly bothered. — And what are these clothes?
On any other day, I would've blushed.
But today?
I laughed.
A short, humorless laugh.
— These clothes? This is me… this is who I am, or at least who I'm trying to be.
He shook his head like I had just said something absurd.
— That's not you.
— It is. — I took a step back without breaking eye contact. My chest tightened. — It's the person I'm becoming. And you know why?I paused, feeling the truth rise painfully.— Because of you. Because you taught me that if I don't get stronger, I'll fall apart completely.
He took half a step toward me.
I lifted my hand and pushed him. Not hard enough to hurt — just hard enough to say I didn't want to stand there anymore.
I turned and climbed the first step.
Rafael moved quickly, like he was going to help me up.
— Don't touch me. — My voice came out low, steady, surprisingly calm. — I can go up by myself.
He froze where he was.
— That's it? It's going to be like this now? — he asked, voice low and heavy.
I turned just enough to look at him over my shoulder.
— Isn't this what you wanted?I swallowed the ache.— To keep me away?
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
And I didn't wait… I climbed the rest of the stairs, each step hurting more than the last, without looking back even once.
My heart was tight, bruised… but I was proud of myself.
I walked into my room feeling my whole body protest. I put on whatever pajamas I found, my knee throbbing, my feet burning like I had walked miles. I glanced at the mirror for half a second — the makeup was still perfect. No energy to remove it… no energy for anything.
I just collapsed on the bed.
And then the anger came again.
Why did he have to show up? Why wait there?Why can he interfere in my life like he has every right, but never leaves a single crack in his life for me to enter?
I felt that childish urge to go back downstairs, poke him in the chest, and say everything again, louder this time.But the moment I moved my leg, I remembered: impossible.My knee was pulsing like an alarm. I wouldn't get out of the bed even if I wanted to.
I grabbed my phone… missed calls from Evelyn, messages.
"Helenaaaaaa r u home???""???""R u ok???""ANSWER WOMAN WHERE R U???"
I sent back that I was home, already in bed, all good.
It took five seconds for her to send a huge reply, full of scrambled letters, not a single word complete. I laughed under my breath, shaking my head. I took too long to respond — now Evelyn was texting in her sleep.
I lowered the screen brightness, dropped the phone on my chest, and closed my eyes.
Enough for today. Enough of Rafael… enough of trying to understand what he wants or doesn't want.
I needed to sleep before I started overthinking again.