Every day without Elisa's response, Eduardo became more irritated.
He called. Sent messages. Nothing.
No reply. No explanation.
Who does she think she is to ignore me? ... he grumbled, throwing his phone onto the table.
Sophia, always nearby, took advantage of every opening his anger provided.
Maybe... she doesn't care as much as you think... she suggested in a gentle voice, while running her fingers through his hair with intimacy.
That's impossible. She's always been submissive. A homebody. She never dared to contradict anything.
And maybe, Eduardo, she's changed. Maybe she's enjoying her freedom.
Don't be ridiculous.
I'm not being ridiculous. I'm being realistic. You're here. She's there. Alone. Free. Who's to say she isn't meeting someone?
That hit him like a slap.
Elisa isn't that type of woman.
No one is... until they are.
Sophia gradually made space in his routine with the smoothness of a seductive viper. First as a constant companion at the hospital. Then, as a guaranteed presence at dinners and events. In less than a week, they were in all the society columns.
"Eduardo Castro is seen again with Sophia Alcântara, could this be the restart of a romance that should never have ended?"
"Model and CEO appear together at a gala event at the Copacabana Palace. Obvious intimacy."
The photos were clear.
Holding hands.
Complicit smiles.
Faces close together.
Elisa saw everything.
From across the ocean, during breaks between rehearsals and meetings, Brazilian tabloids appeared in her feed, as if fate made a point of rubbing it in her face.
Each image was like a stab wound.
Each caption, a reminder that she was never seen.
Even married to him, she never had the right to walk hand in hand in public.
She was never called a "companion" or "wife" by a journalist.
She never had even a single photo beside him.
But Sophia did. And now, more than ever.
Cecília noticed the change in Elisa.
You're closing yourself off again.
I'm learning to accept it, Ceci. I can't expect recognition from someone who never saw me.
Then stop following him.
I can't. ... She took a deep breath. ... It's like watching the end of a dream. Part of me was still hoping for a miracle. Now... it's just reality.
------
Meanwhile, Sophia wasted no time.
She frequently touched Eduardo's arm in public.
She rested her face on his shoulder for photographers.
And in private, she was even more strategic.
You deserve someone at your level, Edu. Someone who understands you. Who doesn't run away. Who doesn't live hidden behind sheet music and books.
Elisa is complicated. Too quiet.
She embarrasses you, I know. And that weighs on you. A man like you needs a woman who shines by your side. Not someone who lives in the shadows.
He drank more in those days. Talked too much. Made declarations he wouldn't have said even to himself before.
Maybe it's time to end this contract.
You just need to sign. ... Sophia smiled, fake and sweet. I'm here. Willing to rebuild you.
------
In the third week, a more aggressive columnist published an article with the title:
"Missing wife: where is Elisa Santos, Eduardo Castro's mysterious woman?"
And in the body of the article:
"While Eduardo shines alongside his eternal muse Sophia Alcântara, his wife remains reclusive, with no public appearances and zero social involvement. Close friends assure that the couple lives in a purely contractual relationship. And there are rumors that divorce is already being discussed..."
Elisa read the article at the airport, minutes before boarding for Vienna, where she would perform at an international festival as a guest guitarist.
She closed her phone. And for the first time... she didn't cry.
The pain was transforming, day by day, into something stronger:
Indifference.
------
The following night, Eduardo appeared at a fashion industry awards ceremony alongside Sophia. Photographers surrounded the two. She kissed his face in front of the cameras. And, without thinking, he embraced her. Only afterward did he realize he felt nothing. No warmth. No desire. No truth.
It was all... automatic.
When he returned home, he opened the refrigerator and saw a frozen soup, with a handwritten label: "Cured your hangover. Love, Elisa."
And for the first time in weeks, he missed her.
But because he didn't actually like her.