I dropped the bags onto the kitchen table while Rafael put things away in the cabinet. It was incredible how naturally he moved around in there, as if the space recognized him as much as he recognized the space.
Maybe it really did.
— Done — he said, closing the cabinet door with his forearm. — Supermarket mission accomplished.
— Mm-hm — I murmured, trying to sound normal.
Rafael braced his hands on the edge of the sink and looked at me over his shoulder, the way he looks when he's trying not to let what he feels show.
— So? — he asked, voice low. — Any idea what we can do this afternoon?
I blinked slowly, like the question was more complicated than it really was.
— I don't know… — I said, crossing my arms. — I could show you the city, but that would be weird. I've lived here my whole life… but you lived here too. What would I even show you?
He let out a short, almost ironic breath through his nose.
— Helena… I left here when I was twelve. — He turned fully toward me, leaning back against the sink. — I barely remembered the way to your street. — He shrugged. — Everything must've changed.
— Almost everything… — I replied, letting the sentence die as I thought.
Then an idea came.
— The river — I said, tipping my chin toward the back of the house. — A few blocks from here. The water always looked pretty at the end of the afternoon.
Rafael raised an eyebrow, skeptical.
— The river? — he asked, with a disbelieving smile. — That little strip of water that looked like a tired stream in the middle of nowhere?
I made an exaggeratedly offended face.
— First: it was a river. Small, but a river.— Second: it changed… a lot.— Third: you're going to stop trash-talking it before you see it.
He broke into that crooked smile he tries to hide and can't.
— Okay, okay. You convinced me… what are you planning?
— Nothing major — I said. — Just… enjoying the day.
I turned away before he could notice my face had heated up. I went to the hallway, grabbed a backpack, and started tossing in some of the snacks we'd bought.
Cookies. Chocolate. Two sodas. And, on impulse, a folded tablecloth—the little blue checkered one my mom always used for picnics.
Rafael watched in silence.
— So that's how it is? — he murmured, crossing his arms. — It's going to be a picnic?
— It's not a picnic — I said, trying to sound convincing while I zipped the bag. — It's just… a precaution. In case you're impressed and we decide to stay there for a while.
He laughed.
— Impressed — he said, shaking his head. — Helena… it was a stream. Literally a stream.
— Wait and see. — I patted the backpack twice. — And go grab the bikes from the garage. They're both still in one piece… I think.
Rafael lifted his eyebrows, amused.
— You're really going to make me relive childhood trauma?
— I am — I replied, already heading for the door. — And you're going to like it.
He sighed.
— Fine. Let's go, then.
And we left together, side by side. The path to the river was short, but it turned into something much bigger. With every block, Rafael's laughter came looser, that same laugh from the rainy night at the overlook. He pedaled too fast just to pass me, then slowed down just to see if I'd complain.
And he kept looking at me the whole time.
— You're going to crash into a pole if you keep staring like that — I said, trying to sound serious.
— I'm just checking if you're keeping up — he shot back, with a crooked smile.
I made an offended face. He kept laughing.
When we turned the last corner, his expression changed. It wasn't dramatic, but his eyes… lit up. His posture straightened on the bike, like he wanted to take it all in at once. The wide riverside, the green grass, people sitting on colorful blankets, kids running near the water, and the river glowing in the late afternoon.
No strip of water in the middle of nowhere.
It was truly beautiful.
— Damn… — he murmured, slowing down. — This… changed.
We stopped at a quieter patch of grass. We leaned the bikes aside and I set the backpack down.
— So? — I asked, crossing my arms with satisfaction. — Still think it looks like some boring little thread of water?
Rafael looked around slowly, like he was absorbing every detail, and then looked at me.
— Fine. — He exhaled. — I take it back.
— That's it? — I teased.
— Helena… — he ran a hand through his hair, laughing. — This is… a lot prettier than I remember.
— So it was worth coming?
He held my gaze for a moment.
— It was — he answered, low.
I sat on the grass, still smiling, the light wind brushing my face.
— My dad taught me how to ride a bike here — I said, pointing toward the bike lane. — Right there, where the sidewalk makes that ugly curve. I fell like three times in the same spot.
Rafael let out a short laugh, amused. Then he moved closer, slowly, and sat behind me. He shifted, leaving space so my back could rest against his chest if I wanted.
And, of course, my body wanted it before my mind even allowed it.
He braced his hands on the grass. The river sliding by in front of us, kids running, laughter scattered across the park.
We stayed like that for a few minutes, just breathing the same air.
Then he murmured, low, almost to himself:
— Thank you.
I turned slightly, just enough to see his face without breaking that comfortable fit.
— For what?
Rafael took a second to answer, like he was translating what he felt.
— For showing me… — he finally said — how good life can be.
It went straight through me.
— If it depends on me… — I started, unable to hide the sincerity — your life is going to be good. Always.
Silence spread between us again.
A breeze blew a strand of hair across my face, and before I could move it, Rafael's fingers were already there, slow, guiding it behind my ear.
I inhaled deeply, and maybe because of the borrowed courage from that touch, I asked:
— Since when did you know… that I lived in your old house? And that we'd met when we were kids?
— Since the beginning — he answered. — My dad told me the new tenant would be Paulo's daughter. So… I knew it would be you.
My stomach tightened, slow and sharp.
— Then why did you never say anything? — I asked, my voice barely there.
He brushed his thumb over my ear again, like it helped him think.
— I didn't want closeness… — he breathed out. — I didn't think it was a good idea for you to have someone like me that close.
I turned fully, kneeling in front of him, my face too close, my heart even closer.
— Why? — I asked, firm. — Why do you think that about yourself?
His eyes changed.
— Because I've done things — he answered, low — that hurt people I loved. Things that happened… because of me.
He took a deep breath and continued.
— So I was scared to get close to you and… ruin something. And also because… — he looked away for a second. — your father did so much for my mom, for my family. More than I could ever repay.
He looked back into my eyes, steady.
— So I grew up thinking I should never get close to you like this. Like I didn't have the right… not after the debt I owe him… it felt wrong.
His words landed like a dry snap, and suddenly a whole line of twisted thoughts made sense in my head.
Of course. It was obvious… too obvious.
I shifted a little farther away from him.
— So… — my voice came out almost a whisper — when you helped me with exams… when you took care of me because of my knee… everything you're doing for me here… you did all of it because you thought you owed my dad? — I asked, feeling my stomach drop.
His eyes tightened instantly, realizing where this was going.
— Helena, don't do this…
He went serious in a way I'd never seen.
— No. — he said, firm, without blinking. — That's not it. Not at all.
— Rafael, you helped me and then pulled away, like you'd just done your duty — I kept going, my voice shaking. — And you knew I liked you. You knew, and you still treated me with that coldness… until one day you gave in.I stopped for a second, my heart in my throat.— But why? — my voice dropped. — Was it because saying "no" to me would look like ingratitude to my father?
— Helena — he grabbed my hands, tense — what you're saying doesn't make any sense.
I didn't answer… I don't even know if I could.
What he'd just said kept hammering in my head, each word hitting the same place, making everything inside me feel scrambled.
My chest tightened like there wasn't enough air.
And before he could notice, I stood up in a movement too fast to be thought.
— Helena…?
I didn't hear the rest.
I grabbed the backpack on the grass, reached for my bike with shaking hands, and got on without looking back. The first pedals were clumsy, then steady, then almost desperate. The wind in my face didn't help at all, but at least it shoved the tears back.
I just needed to go… go before I fell apart right there in front of him.