Chapter 8

Rafael nodded, his smile softening as he prepared to leave the room.

“Good night,” he said, casting one last look at his father and at her before leaving, closing the door quietly behind him and leaving Patrícia alone in the room with her future husband.

She moved closer to the bed, feeling a knot tighten in her chest. Starting the next day, he would officially be her husband, and the reality wrapped around her gently. The silence in the room was almost palpable, the only light coming from the lamp beside the bed, softly illuminating the outlines of the objects.

Patrícia lay down beside him, feeling the softness of the sheets, though the sense of discomfort still lingered. She looked at him, observing the contours of his face, which now seemed calmer, almost at peace.

Fatigue seemed to have taken over her body, but there was something that still kept her awake, lost in thought.

It was hard to imagine that in just a few hours their lives would change completely. They would be husband and wife, but what did that really mean? She wondered, her fingers gently brushing over the sheet, without truly knowing the answer.

Her heart was beating more slowly now, her thoughts becoming clearer as she watched Augusto Avelar rest.

Without making a sound, she pulled the blanket up to her shoulders, feeling a comforting warmth. Even so, she lay beside him, leaving as little space between them as possible.

Little by little, her own eyes closed, exhaustion taking over, though her mind refused to slow down. She stayed there beside her fiancé, listening to the soft sound of his breathing, until sleep finally claimed her.

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The next morning, Patrícia woke to the sound of light knocks on the door. Still groggy, she blinked a few times before realizing what was about to happen.

The wedding.

Her stomach churned, and she sat up in bed, trying to absorb the reality. There would be no wedding dress, no decorated church, much less a groom waiting for her at the altar. Just an improvised wedding inside a mansion, with a judge and a few witnesses.

Taking a deep breath, she got up and opened the door. The butler was waiting on the other side.

“Mr. Rafael asked that you get ready. The judge will arrive in one hour.”

She nodded, her throat dry.

“Thank you.”

As she took a quick shower, she tried to calm her thoughts. None of it felt real. The wedding would happen without her future husband knowing, and she still needed to find a way to deal with the situation when he woke up.

After leaving the bathroom, she put on a simple but elegant outfit. A light blue dress, discreet, unassuming.

When she went downstairs, she found Rafael waiting for her, already dressed in an impeccable suit. He looked at her approvingly.

“Are you ready?”

Patrícia nodded, even though she still wasn’t sure.

“The judge has already arrived,” he informed her, indicating the hall where everything would take place.

She took a deep breath and walked toward it, feeling each step as if she were heading into the unknown.

Upon entering the hall, Patrícia realized everything was ready. The table for signing the papers was perfectly arranged, and the judge waited patiently beside two witnesses: the butler and one of the oldest housemaids.

Rafael pulled out a chair for her to sit, and Patrícia felt the weight of that decision more than ever. She looked at the documents in front of her, her name already written beside Augusto Avelar’s.

“Shall we begin?” the judge asked, watching her closely.

She exchanged a look with Rafael, who simply nodded, signaling that everything was under control.

“Yes,” she replied, her voice slightly hesitant.

The judge began the brief, formal ceremony. There were no romantic vows or declarations of love, only bureaucratic words about rights, duties, and commitments. Patrícia felt her heart race as her hands began to sweat.

When it was time to sign, her hands trembled as she held the pen. For a moment, she hesitated.

What if Augusto Avelar woke up and rejected the marriage?

But then her grandfather’s image came to mind. The man who had always taken care of her, who had raised her with love, and who now desperately needed a treatment that only that marriage could secure.

Swallowing hard, she straightened her posture and signed.

The judge slid the documents toward Rafael, who signed on his father’s behalf without hesitation.

“Before the law, you are now husband and wife,” the judge declared, closing the folder with the papers.

Patrícia let out a heavy sigh. It was done. She was now, officially, Patrícia Avelar.

The judge was the first to leave, followed by the butler and the maid, leaving Patrícia and Rafael alone in the room. The silence between them was almost palpable.

Rafael crossed his arms and watched her for a moment before saying firmly,

“I will take very good care of your grandfather. You can be sure of that.”

Patrícia let out a soft, relieved sigh, though she still felt the weight of that decision on her shoulders. Her eyes wandered around the room before meeting his.

“And I…” her voice came out softer than she intended. “I will do the same for my husband… if he allows it when he wakes up.”

Rafael raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I think that will be the least of your problems. My father has always been a fair man.”

She nodded, though uncertainty still danced in her eyes. How could she predict Augusto’s reaction when he woke up and discovered he had a wife he had never met?

Without prolonging the conversation, Patrícia turned and began walking toward her newlywed husband’s bedroom. She needed to see him, needed to find some sense of security in the man who, asleep, was now part of her life in such an unexpected way.

Upon entering the room, she approached the bed and sat down in the armchair beside it. She took Augusto’s hand in hers, studying his sleeping face.

“I hope you understand… and that you don’t hate me for this,” she whispered.

Silence was her only answer, but for a brief moment, she had the impression that his fingers subtly moved within hers.