BeatriceI left work much later than usual, immersed in tumultuous thoughts. Earlier, I had declined the ride that Andrew had kindly offered. After all, it was no longer a secret that something strange was happening between us, and I didn't want to further complicate things.Andrew was an amazing man, kind, attentive, and always willing to support me. But there was Edward, my ex-husband, still officially married to me. This situation tied my mind into knots, a confusion of feelings that prevented me from moving forward with my life as I wished.I decided that I needed a legal answer to this emotional mess. The next day, I would seek a lawyer and initiate the divorce process once again. It was a tough decision but necessary so that I could finally choose between Andrew and Edward without carrying the weight of a failed marri
EdwardBeatrice's question was entirely valid. I spent a year by her side, but I chose to remain trapped in the resentment and bitterness I felt when I saw her with Sebastian on her eighteenth birthday, exactly when I had planned to ask her out. However, after trying to get involved with other women and pretending that I was having fun, I came to the conclusion that none of them compares to Beatrice, the only one I have always loved.“I don't know” That's all I could say.I still love Beatrice, but it's difficult to admit this feeling even to myself. The fact is that seeing her again in the arms of another man caused terrible discomfort. The mere idea of Beatrice with another man was unbearable. I believe I only managed to stay away for three years because I was in another country, getting involved with every wo
BeatriceAs time is short, with only thirty minutes to be in Edward's office, I spend just the necessary time in my office to grab my bag. Upon arriving in front of the newspaper building where I work, I flag down the first taxi that comes my way, and luckily, it's available.The journey to Edward's company is relatively quick, as it's not too far, and the traffic is still light at that time. When the taxi stops in front of the imposing and modern-designed building, with multiple floors as far as the eye can see, I get out, feeling my legs like jelly from nervousness.Being in front of the building where Edward runs his business makes me sad because memories from the time we were married flood in, depressing me as I recall the times I've been there and how I was always treated by him.Edward
BeatriceEdward smiles kindly, his eyes sparkle, and I can't resist the overwhelming charm of my ex-husband."But I want to talk about us, Beatrice," Edward insists."And our interview? That's why I came here, Edward.""I have a good proposal to make."Edward releases my hand, which he was still holding, and gets up from his chair, now sitting in the one next to mine, staring at me with renewed attention.I was undecided about whether I wanted to know about this proposal. The last one I received was to be there, and I still wasn't sure if it was genuinely something positive for me."Aren't you going to ask what it is?" He
BeatriceThe dress I chose for dinner that night is one of the models that Janet insisted I buy one of the times we went out together. Janet used to complain a lot about how I dressed, which, according to her, was too modest and dull. Despite completely disagreeing with her, I ended up following her advice and changed my entire wardrobe.I decided to be daring that night, choosing a form-fitting dress that, despite reaching the knees, had a well-crafted neckline with plenty of transparency on both my chest and the back of the dress.I applied subtle makeup to soften the impact of the outfit and slipped into sky-high heels in the same color as the dress—black with golden details, matching the garment.Once ready, I glanced at myself in the closet mirro
EdwardI looked with great admiration at the beautiful woman in front of me, my wife Beatrice, and smiled along with her, remembering an episode from our childhood."Oh, Edward!" she complained, smiling. "You always managed to convince everyone of your innocence, even when you were the one responsible for our pranks."Beatrice let out a hearty laugh, looked around the pub, already quite empty at that hour, and frowned at me.“I think it's time for us to leave, Edward.” she pointed out, trying to wear a serious expression that didn't match the beautiful smile on her face.I look around, realizing that besides the two of us, there is only one more table occupied by another couple, and I conclude that s
BeatriceI arrived at the newspaper the morning after my dinner with Edward feeling guilty because there would be no article to publish. After all, I let myself be carried away by my ex-husband's charm and completely forgot the real reason for us being together.Now, when Mr. Smith calls me to his office, something I am sure he will do sooner or later, how will I explain that there is nothing? Not even a single answer to all the questions the media has been raising in recent days.Saying that I felt awful didn't define the state I was in at that moment as I entered my office at the newspaper and threw my bag on the chair in front of my desk.I turned on the computer, constantly waiting for a call from Lucy, Mr. Smith's secretary, to let me know that he was calling me into his office, nervousness taking over my entire being.The seconds passed, turning into minutes, and then hours, as I tried to work on some alternative material, a way to mitigate the fact that I hadn't secured the int
EdwardLunch with Beatrice didn't unfold exactly as I expected. I lamented how she was distancing herself more and more from me, without me being able to win her heart.The dinner from the night before wasn't a complete failure, but it also didn't go as planned. After leaving her house extremely irritated with my wife's refusal to talk, I managed to calm my mind and reconsider my inflexible position.I reflected calmly on how I could approach Beatrice again, preferably without giving her the chance to pull away, as she usually did. I remembered that the interview had not yet taken place. For this reason, that morning, I went to the newspaper to speak personally with Joel Smith.Although I had some relative success, as I managed to get Beatrice to agree to have lunch with me as planned, I made no further progress beyond that. I left the restaurant with another rejection from her.However, I could not accept what she insisted on repeating. I am sure it is not "too late" for us, and I wi