CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY-ONE

ARE WE GOING TO EAT OUT?

Clara was going to stop thinking about Otávio for now. Besides, it wouldn't really help to think about him. He made it clear that he wasn't interested in having a relationship with her.

She entered the living room and planned to read a bit, but there he was. Otávio was adjusting the painting on the wall that didn't seem crooked at all.

Irritation rose within her as she walked up to where he was, with his back turned to her, and messed up the painting, making it intentionally crooked.

Otávio looked at her, confused.

"What was that for?"

"Me leaving the painting crooked on 'my' wall, in 'my' house, why?" She challenged him. She sat on the couch and almost laughed when he readjusted the painting. The only one she had left on the wall was the one Dalia had given her, and she had already removed all the decorations from her new home, precisely because of her crazy friend who was staying there, the same one who would wander around the house in the middle of the nigh