Chapter 12 Only a moment

After saying our goodbyes, my aunt and I left the café, the cold afternoon air hitting our faces. The journey to my parents' house was silent, each of us lost in our own thoughts. When we finally arrived, I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the confrontation that was to come.

I opened the door and went in. My mother was sitting at the kitchen table, eating her dinner in silence. Upon seeing me enter with my aunt, she lifted her eyes, an expression of surprise and then irritation crossing her face.

"Where did you two go?" She asked, her voice tense. "You could have let us know you were leaving."

My aunt began to respond, but I interrupted her, my voice stronger than I expected. "Where is my father?"

I completely ignored my mother's question, the determination in my eyes making it clear that I was not joking around. My mother's expression changed from irritation to confusion, and then to concern when she finally realized the seriousness in my voice.

My mother opened her mouth to ask if something had happened, but I ignored her, calling loudly for my father. It didn't take long for him to appear in the kitchen door, with a questioning expression.

"Why are you shouting?" He asked, drying his hands on a towel. It was clear that he had just come out of the shower.

"Sit down." I said, pointing to the two empty chairs at the table. "We need to talk."

"Calm down, son, Cleber is fine," my father tried to soothe me, mentioning the name of my aunt's husband. "He lost some blood, but not enough to kill him."

I felt my anger rise. "You think that's what I'm talking about?" I asked, my voice harsher than I intended. "You think this is about Cleber?"

"You should have thought more before doing something." My father shook his head, his irritation clear. "You always act on impulse."

"I should have thought more?" I repeated, laughing bitterly. "What about you? Did you think before you did what you did? Before... before betraying each other?"

There was a shocking moment of silence. My mother and father looked at each other, their expressions confused. "What... what are you talking about?" My mother finally asked, her voice trembling.

"You didn't think about the consequences, did you?" I continued, my voice rising. "When you decided to sleep with other people, did you think about how it would affect us? What it would do to our family?"

The silence that followed was deafening. None of them had an answer for me. And, to be honest, I didn't expect them to.

"What the hell are you talking about?" My father asked, his brow furrowed in confusion quickly turning into a frown of frustration. The disbelief painted on his face was almost palpable.

"Oh, so that's how it's going to be?" I laughed, but the sound was more bitter than joyful. "Do you really think I'm in the dark? That I don't know about her, father?" I could feel the anger boiling within me, each word of mine was an accusation.

"Lower your voice!" His response was quick and harsh, irritation shining in his tone. His patience was clearly at the limit.

Meanwhile, my mother was silent, a statue of desolation. Her head was down, her eyes fixed on the table, as if there was something deeply interesting on its wooden surface. She denied nothing, nor did she try to defend herself. She just stood there, silent, like a convict awaiting sentence.

"I don't know how you guys are going to handle this," I said, my voice was steady, despite the lump in my throat. "But I hope you separate. I don't want to be part of a family whose foundation is made of lies and betrayals."

With that, I got up, the abrupt noise of the chair being pushed back cutting through the heavy silence of the room. But before I could reach the door, I stopped and turned to them again. "And another thing," I said, my voice low but full of determination. My hard gaze fixed on them, as if I could engrave my words on their souls. "I'm moving out."

The surprise on their faces would have been almost comical, if it wasn't so tragically sad. I didn't wait for a response. I simply turned and walked out, leaving them to deal with the devastating explosion they had created themselves.

My father rose from his chair and shouted, "Come back here!" But I ignored him. I went straight to my room to get my things. I was moving to my aunt's apartment.

Paula, who was on her way to the room, stopped abruptly when my father grabbed her by the arm. "If you say a word..." he growled, his anger overflowing.

Paula, confused, shook her head. "I... I didn't even know that my sister and you... that you were betraying each other." She seemed scared, her voice almost inaudible. "Please, let go. It hurts."

The pain reminded Paula of something she'd rather forget - the beating she took from her husband. But my father didn't let go. Instead, he squeezed harder. "Who told him? Eh? Speak!"

Paula was clearly frightened, the words stuck in her throat. "I... I don't know. All I know is that he knows." She swallowed hard, pleading with her eyes for him to let her go. "Please, it hurts."

But my father ignored her protests. His face was red with rage, the veins in his forehead throbbing dangerously.

Heitor turned to Paula with even more anger, his eyes narrowed to slits. "Who said?!" He growled, his voice louder than ever. Paula, now more frightened than ever, tried to break free, but my father's hand was like a vise, squeezing her arm tightly.

That's when my mother, Lucia, finally exploded. "Heitor, let her go now!" She slammed her hand on the table, the loud noise echoing through the room. Her words came like a jet of cold water, shocking all of us. "It doesn't matter who told, you cheated on me. And I cheated on you. We are both guilty."

Heitor seemed surprised, not by Lucia's confession, but by the force with which she had made it. "Aren't you ashamed of what you did, Lucia?" He asked, his voice full of contempt and anger.

Lucia lifted her chin, her firm gaze met Heitor's. "My shame doesn't matter, Heitor. What we've done cannot be undone. But unlike you, I'm not afraid to admit my mistakes."

She stood up, the chair scraping on the wooden floor with the movement. "Now let go of Paula!" She ordered, her tone leaving no room for arguments.

Heitor turned to Lucia, his eyes injected with rage. "Do you know how I feel, Lucia? How I am inside after finding out that my wife cheated on me?" He shouted, the vein in his forehead pulsing with the intensity of his anger. "I gave my blood for this house, Lucia. I paid for this house, for the furniture, for the car, for the food. Everything! And what did I get in return? Horns!"

Lucia's face turned red with anger. "Who was it that helped you in everything, Heitor?" She retorted, irritated. "I also gave my blood for this house. I was always by your side, at every moment, at every decision. Yet, you never saw. You never thanked me, never acknowledged. I never complained about your mistakes, always offered my help. And now, what have I got? Contempt!"

Lucia finished speaking and was out of breath, her chest rising and falling quickly. She looked at Heitor, her eyes full of defiance, as silence filled the room once again. The tension was palpable, everyone present feeling the weight of the words said.

Lucia, still with anger but also sadness in her voice, said: "And because of what we've done, my baby is leaving home." As soon as she said this, I was coming out of my room with my bags. I stopped and heard what my mother had said. I shook my head, determined. I'm not staying here.

I looked at my father, who was still holding my aunt's arm tightly. From the expression on his face, I could see the fear in her, and I knew that it was reminding her of the day she was beaten by her husband. I couldn't stand still, watching that.

"Dad, let go of Paula!" I shouted, my voice echoing through the room. Everyone in the room turned to me, surprised. At that moment, the silence was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

"I already told you to speak softly!" My father replied, finally releasing Paula's arm. She massaged the spot that was red and marked by the pressure of his hand.

My mother, seeing my suitcase next to me, her eyes filled with tears. "My son, please, forgive me. You don't need to leave." She said, the words coming out with difficulty. The idea of not seeing me every morning seemed to cause her immense pain. Even so, I was determined.

"I've made my decision, mom." I said, grabbing my aunt's hand. "I'm leaving." With hurried steps, I left the house. Paula and I walked a few meters before I stopped, the reality of what was happening finally hitting me.

Paula, realizing my pause, asked worried: "Are you okay?" I nodded, trying to seem stronger than I really felt. But I couldn't control the tears that began to fall from my eyes.

"I'm fine, Paula," I said, my voice trembling. "I just... just need a moment."

And there, under the dark sky, with my aunt's hand on my shoulder and tears streaming down my face, I finally understood the weight of what had happened. I was leaving my home, my family, everything I knew. But somehow, I knew it was the right decision. I needed to find my own path, away from my parents' problems and conflicts. And, although painful, I knew it was what had to be done.