Chapter 10

After dinner with her husband’s son, Patrícia returned to the bedroom. He had moved again; one of his arms was near his face.

She felt happy, because he was close to waking up. She approached and sat beside him.

“You need to shave and cut your hair a little… Not that you don’t look handsome like this… I believe you’re handsome no matter what,” she said, brushing a lock of hair away from his face.

The contact was brief, but enough to make a small shiver run through her skin.

Patrícia quickly pulled her hand back, feeling a little foolish for the impulsive gesture. She stayed there, just watching him, his breathing calm and steady, his lips slightly parted.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to her.

They hadn’t kissed.

There had been no kiss at the wedding. No symbolic exchange to seal that unexpected union.

And now? What would they do?

Her gaze drifted to his lips.

Her heart raced as she considered the possibility. What would happen when he finally woke up?

Patrícia felt her heart pound as her mind waged a battle between reason and impulse. She shouldn’t… But at the same time, something inside her longed for that moment.

Gently, she leaned over him, her breathing becoming unsteady as the distance between their faces narrowed. She closed her eyes and, in a soft movement, brushed her lips against his.

It was a light, hesitant touch, almost as if she feared waking him. She was his wife now, even if he didn’t yet know it.

When she pulled away, warmth rose to her cheeks. She felt foolish, perhaps even a little bold. But deep down, she didn’t regret it.

“Good night, my husband…” she whispered, with a shy smile.

Before lying down, she adjusted the blankets over him more carefully and turned off the bedside lamp. She lay down beside him on the bed, closed her eyes, trying to calm her thoughts.

Little did she know that, even unconscious, Augusto reacted to her touch. His fingers moved slightly, and a sigh escaped his lips.

The room was dark, with only a faint light slipping in through the gap in the curtain. Patrícia slept deeply on the bed, her breathing calm.

In the silence of the early morning, a subtle movement occurred. Augusto’s fingers curled, and slowly his eyelids fluttered before opening completely. His eyes wandered over the ceiling for a moment, his mind still confused, trying to process where he was.

He inhaled deeply, feeling the air fill his lungs in a way that felt both strange and familiar. His muscles were stiff, as if he hadn’t used them in a long time.

Turning his head slowly, his gaze found Patrícia’s sleeping figure. Who was that woman? And why was she there, so close to him?

His chest rose and fell heavily as he tried to remember, but his mind seemed wrapped in fog.

“What…” his voice came out hoarse, almost a whisper, surprising even himself.

Patrícia stirred in bed, a sigh escaping her lips, but she didn’t wake up.

Augusto watched her for a few more moments, not understanding why a stranger was sleeping beside him. Exhaustion threatened to take over again, but he didn’t give up on trying to sit up.

Augusto took a deep breath, trying to gather strength. His body felt heavy, as if every muscle were rusty. The effort to sit up on the bed had already been immense, but he wasn’t going to stop there.

His eyes fell on the crutches beside the bed. His brow furrowed in confusion. Since when did he need those? And why weren’t his legs responding the way they should?

With a frustrated sigh, he stretched out his arm and grabbed the crutches. The simple act of holding them felt strange, as if they didn’t belong to him. He made a tremendous effort to stand, and for a moment, the world spun. His legs were weak, but he refused to give up.

Leaning on the crutches, he took his first hesitant step. The cold floor beneath his bare feet brought a jolt of reality. Every movement demanded concentration, every muscle protested, but the need to reach the bathroom spoke louder.

The path there felt endless. His breathing grew heavy, and sweat began to form on his forehead. When he finally reached the door, he held onto the doorframe for a moment, trying to catch his breath.

He turned on the sink faucet and let the water run before cupping his hands to his mouth, drinking eagerly. The cool liquid slid down his dry throat, bringing momentary relief.

When he lifted his head, his eyes met his own reflection in the mirror. The man staring back at him looked like a stranger. The thick beard, the hair a bit longer than usual, the tired, confused eyes.

“What the hell happened to me?” he murmured to himself, running his fingers over his face, trying to find some answer in that unfamiliar image.

With great effort, Augusto managed to use the bathroom. His body was still stiff, his muscles not responding as before, but the need to take care of himself pushed him forward.

When he saw the chair inside the shower, he felt immediate relief. Sitting down, he let the hot water run over his body, easing some of the built-up tension. He massaged his legs, feeling a slight improvement in circulation, and little by little, his breathing returned to normal.

After finishing his shower, he dried himself calmly and put on a robe. When he returned to the bedroom, he noticed that his movements were a bit steadier. He even considered abandoning the crutches, but decided not to rush it. He picked them up again, keeping a safer pace.

That was when his eyes fell on the woman in the bed.

She slept peacefully, the sheets slightly rumpled around her, her body beautiful. The sight made something inside him stir, a sudden heat rising through him.

Augusto frowned, confused.

“Who is she?”

The question echoed in his mind, and he tried to search his memory, but nothing came. Had he hired her to give him pleasure?

“That’s not possible… I’ve never done that…” he murmured, feeling his body react in an unexpected way.

Heat spread over his skin, and he realized that he was aroused.

He took a deep breath, averting his gaze. He needed to understand what was happening before giving in to sensations that, until then, seemed to have been dormant for a long time.

Augusto looked at her again. Her long hair covered her face, preventing him from recognizing her. Something inside him urged him to get closer, and he gave in to the impulse, sitting on the edge of the bed.

He didn’t know if that was a mistake, but now, closer, he could better observe her legs. That was when he noticed a large mole on the back of her thigh, very close to her buttocks. The detail made him even more attentive, awakening a hunger he hadn’t felt in a long time.

His thoughts turned to the only logical explanation: she was there to give him pleasure. He saw no other reason for a young, attractive woman to be sleeping in his bed, dressed like that.

And he was thirsty.

His body, however, was still weakened. Would he have the strength to take her the way he wanted? If not, he would have to allow her to take control, to be on top and show him everything she knew.

The idea only made his desire grow even more.