Christian walks back into the living room after seeing Henrique off, the lingering conversation still echoing in his mind. He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, trying to shake off the thoughts of their earlier discussion. Henrique's words hit harder than he'd expected, especially considering how everything had unfolded between him, Marilena, and the public eye.
The silence in his house is deafening. His friends left earlier, the energy they'd once shared dissipating with every passing minute. He could feel the weight of it all settling around him, and despite his usual ability to compartmentalize, this time, something felt different. The tension, the strange, gnawing discomfort, was always present when it came to Marilena, even in the rare moments he tried to pretend it wasn't.
