My Healing

Liam

I'm feeling like a caged lion, pacing back and forth in my office without being able to stop. Once again, the need to let out my anger in some way arose, and I opted for the most accessible one at the moment. I grabbed a bottle of my father's favorite brandy and threw it against the wall.

"Damn, damn, damn!" I also threw a glass against the wall. "A thousand times damn!"

The shock passed and in its place, there was only anger. A lot of anger toward my father, my mother, and especially my idiot uncle. I'm sure it was he who convinced my father to establish those conditions for me to finally take over my fortune. And I still can't believe my father did this to me! What Frederico is doing to me is blackmail and the most ordinary kind.

I continued walking around the room, now being careful not to step on the shards of glass, until I felt a little more in control and called my secretary.

"Arrange for someone from housekeeping to come to my office," I ordered without even greeting the woman on the other end of the line. "Quickly!"

I wasn't in the mood for slow people. Although my secretary usually attended to all my requests with great efficiency, she didn't value speed, and that drove me crazy.

I sat in my chair behind the imposing director's desk and unlocked the computer. I needed to prepare for a meeting with the crisis management team. My father couldn't have chosen a worse time to drop that bomb on my lap.

Someone knocked on the door at that moment, and I imagined it was from housekeeping.

"Come in already!" I shouted impatiently.

I wasn't wrong, and I soon noticed the entrance of a girl wearing a horrible white overall and a cap on her head. Although I never paid attention to the people who perform basic tasks in my company, I noticed that for a few months now, the same girl has been cleaning my office.

She just waved before starting her work, and I didn't bother to respond to her greeting. I was too busy with problems much more important than an employee in the cleaning department.

I continued analyzing some important reports and searching for additional information on the internet, as well as requesting a legal department report by email, all simultaneously.

"Have you ever considered seeking help?" A sweet and gentle voice spoke very softly.

I thought I had heard things and looked at the only person in the room besides me. It's not possible that this girl dared to suggest that I need help.

"What did you say?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

I stared at the girl, once again my eyes screaming for help in the face of her horrible outfit. She looked at me, seeming uncomfortable, I would even say regretful for having said whatever it was she said, now standing and collecting the shards of glass on the dustpan. I hope she doesn't dare to repeat it.

"Have you ever considered seeking help?"

My ears didn't deceive me and the soft, delicate voice was indeed from that plain girl. However, upon closer analysis of her face, I noticed that her features were not unpleasant. Not that it changed anything. She had just thrown away her job at Loser Inc.

I leaned my body in a way to better support myself on the high backrest of the executive chair and with all the calmness I possess, I lifted my hand to my chin.

"You're fired."

The girl looked at me, surprise displayed on her face. Her eyes expressed a mixture of sadness and determination, but she didn't back down.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I just wanted to help, offer a friendly word. We all go through tough times, and sometimes it's necessary to recognize when we need help."

I felt a momentary discomfort in the face of the sincerity in her words. That sweetness and empathy she showed were strange to me, accustomed to dealing with tougher and more assertive people. For a moment, the thought of reassessing my decision crossed my mind. But arrogance quickly resurfaced.

"I don't need friendly words from a janitor. Take care of your duties and don't meddle in matters that don't concern you."

She lowered her head, resigned, but before leaving, she said:

"I hope someday you find the peace you're seeking."

The door closed behind her, and the room fell into a heavy silence. I struggled to refocus on the reports, but the girl's words echoed in my mind. What did she mean by that?

As the day went on, I found myself thinking about the cleaning staff member. When I arrived home at night, I found my father and uncle gathered in the mansion's living room, and all my tension and anger came rushing back.

"I hope you've considered my suggestion, Liam," Frederico Ricci said right away.

"Is that how you classify what you're forcing me to do?" I asked without hesitation. "A 'suggestion'?"

"I'm just trying to put some sense into your head, my son," Despite the words, his tone held no kindness. "I'm not going to put my company in the hands of an irresponsible playboy."

"Frederico!" Mom said horrified, entering the room at that moment. "You can't speak to our son like that."

"I'm used to it, Mom," I said sarcastically. "After all, that's the treatment I've received my whole life, isn't it?"

I love my mother and she's the only reason I still visit that house. It doesn't matter that the big idiot is also my father. I don't trust him.

"And you, as always, are acting with your usual cynicism," Frederico pointed out, bringing his cigar to his mouth and taking another puff. "I hope a wife can soften that rebellious temperament of yours."

"Strange as it may seem, I agree with Liam," my uncle Julian also chimed in. "You can't make a condition like that for him to take over the company."

"Oh, please, Julian! Don't make me laugh," I let out a sarcastic laugh. "You're hoping my father does exactly that. After all, if I don't get married within a month, the presidency of the company will go to Caíque, your beloved son."

"Please, dears," Mom intervened in the situation once again. "Let's not get into another pointless argument. We won't get anywhere with all these accusations."

Julian had the decency to stay silent, but I'm not sure if it was because of what I said or Mom's words. Julian is my father's brother, but he also knows that even though he's a complete idiot, Dad would never forgive someone who goes against his wife. That's a contradiction, considering he is a jerk to her.

As the tension continued to hang in the air, I looked around the luxurious living room, feeling suffocated by the pressure and expectations my family placed on me. I didn't want to be controlled or manipulated by my father. In their eyes, I was just a spoiled and irresponsible playboy, incapable of taking responsibility for the family business.

"Liam, I understand that you have your own opinions, but it's time to grow up," my father retorted, his voice full of authority. "If you want to be taken seriously, you need to show commitment and responsibility. Marriage is an important step in that direction."

I clenched my fists, feeling my patience running out. The idea of an arranged marriage just to ensure my supposed maturity was insulting.

"I won't accept this, Dad," I declared, firmness in my voice. "I won't submit to a marriage just to please you. I have my own goals and my own life to live."

My mother looked at me with sadness, seeming torn between her love for me and her loyalty to my father. She tried to intervene again, but I cut her off before she could speak.

"I'd better go," I said resolutely.

I left the living room. I need a moment's peace to organize my thoughts and make a decision. As I walked through the halls of the mansion, my emotions were mixed. Anger, frustration, but also a flame of determination. I'm not going to lose the company that is rightfully mine and hand it over to my cousin Caíque, after years of dedicating myself entirely to Laser Inc.

Liam

I woke up determined to find a wife. If that's the condition for me to take over Laser Inc. and my fortune, then that's exactly what I'll do. However, after a restless night, during which I spent hours tossing and turning in bed thinking about this, I decided that my father would have a big surprise when he found out what I intended to do.

He has stipulated that I should get married, but he didn't specify with whom. I intend to find a wife opposite to what he believes the person I'll choose to marry would be like.

Determined to forge my path and make a choice that defied my father's expectations, I set out to find a wife who was completely different from what he imagined. Someone who didn't fit the stereotype of a shallow socialite from São Paulo's high society.

But where could I find someone like that? I have no idea. Maybe I should go out, and explore places different from the ones I usually frequent. I was thinking about this when my secretary walked into my office after a quick knock on the door.

Marta is a woman in her fifties, efficient but not very practical. I have no patience with her. However, I noticed that she seemed sad that morning. It was the second time she had come to my office and remained in complete silence, which was highly unusual for Marta.

"Is there a problem?" I asked irritably as I signed some documents she had placed on my desk.

"No."

"Why do you look like you're at a funeral?" I know, I'm an idiot.

"There's nothing, Mr. Ricci."

Marta left after I finished all the documents without saying anything, and that's how it went throughout the day. She always stuck to the strictly necessary, and I wondered what had happened to her.

When the end of the workday came, I walked past her desk towards the elevator, as the doors faced each other, but unlike every other day when I was leaving the office, Marta didn't greet me or wish me "a great evening" as she does every time.

When I got home from work, I was once again greeted by the same scene as the night before, but this time I simply retreated to my room. I had no patience for Frederico and Julian together.

However, I couldn't escape Frederico the next morning, which only added to my anger, especially when I received a message from Caíque teasing me about taking good care of his company. So, more glasses were thrown against the wall and a big mess in my office to clean up. When I called Marta, she surprised me by saying:

"I've already requested the cleaning for your office."

She ended the call after that, leaving me more intrigued by her unusual behavior. A few minutes later, a young man in the same overalls as the girl who usually cleaned my office came in, but that wasn't what caught my attention.

"Where is the girl?" I asked abruptly.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Ricci. I don't know which girl you're talking about."

I realized I wasn't being clear and corrected myself.

"Where is the cleaning girl responsible for cleaning my office?"

"You fired her yesterday, Mr. Ricci," the young man explained.

His explanation was clear, but it took me a few seconds to process his words. The memory of the scene from the previous day in my office came back to me, and I felt like a jerk, even though the girl had indeed overstepped by saying what she did to me.

Realizing that I had fired the cleaning girl over an innocuous, albeit misplaced comment made me feel a weight of guilt in my chest. I had acted impulsively and arrogantly, letting my anger control my actions.

Those innocent words, "Have you ever thought about seeking help?" echoed in my mind. At that moment, I had interpreted it as an insult, a challenge to my superiority. However, now, I felt compelled to do something to rectify my mistake.

I noticed the young man was still staring at me, probably waiting for another question, so I simply gestured for him to continue his task and called my secretary, requesting her presence in my office after the cleaning was done.

"I'd like you to request HR to contact the cleaning girl and rehire her," I said while typing some information on my computer. Then, a minute passed before I realized that Marta remained in complete silence about my order. "Marta?" I asked, a little impatient.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Ricci, but I must admit I'm surprised by your decision. Of course, I'll immediately get in touch with HR and arrange for the cleaning employee to be rehired. She'll be back to work as soon as possible."

I was pleased to hear Marta's response. I needed to correct the injustice I had committed and offer an opportunity to the cleaning girl, demonstrating that I was capable of recognizing my mistakes and acting justly. In other words, I didn't need help, as she had erroneously suggested.

"By the way, her name is Cecília," Marta said, already holding the door handle.

"I don't see why that matters. Just do as I instructed."

Before the end of the workday, Marta returned to my office and informed me that HR was unable to reach the cleaning girl, meaning rehiring her hadn't been possible yet. Marta remained in front of my desk for a few more seconds, as if waiting for something, but I simply dismissed her, and she soon left my office.

I had tried to fix the situation, but now it was out of my hands.

However, for some strange reason, that matter wouldn't leave my mind throughout the night, keeping me awake. This time, I didn't even remember the absurd condition my father had imposed on me to continue leading the company. All my thoughts were on Cecília, a very beautiful name for such an unremarkable girl, but my body responded foolishly every time I remembered her sweet and gentle voice.

Cecília

I looked around the tiny room, sadness invading me once again. The walls were damp, and as it was raining heavily that night, I feared for my safety as it seemed the ceiling could collapse at any moment. I prayed for divine help again.

There wasn't much else to do, after all. I couldn't concentrate on reading any of the books I had brought in the movie, which was entirely normal given my current situation.

I had been fired from my job, and when I got home and told my family, my stepfather kicked me out of the house on the spot. I remembered Jean's words, and my chest hurt once more.

"If you can't contribute to the household expenses, you won't stay under my roof either," he said with extreme coldness. "I can't support another mouth. I already have to support your mother and your siblings."

I could have told him that my siblings were his children and that my mother was his wife, but in the current situation, I chose to try to talk to him, to explain that I had nowhere else to go. However, Jean didn't even listen to me. He stormed out, yelling and slamming the door, saying he didn't want to find me in his house when he returned from work the next morning.

As usual, my mother didn't interfere. She continued watching TV as if nothing was happening right next to her. My siblings were still too young to understand anything. Jennifer is only five years old, Jefferson seven, and I love them like crazy, but there was nothing I could do after Jean had kicked me out of his house.

I took advantage of the fact that it was still daylight, it was only 5 PM, and went in search of some guesthouse where I could rent a room for the lowest possible price. At the moment, I had very little money, but I had been informed by Laser Inc.'s HR that the next morning I could go in to sign my termination papers and receive any pending payments. However, considering that I had been working at the company for less than six months, the amount wouldn't be substantial.

All I managed to find was a damp room, full of leaks, and very hot, with no windows. Still, I considered myself lucky, and with the money I received from Laser Inc. that morning, I was able to pay three months' rent, as the guesthouse owner demanded.

Someone knocked on my room's door, which surprised and worried me.

"Hi there, cutie," said a very muscular man covered in tattoos.

"Yes?" I chose to speak curtly.

I had no idea what he could want, after all, I had only seen him once before when I joined the other tenants for dinner that night. I hadn't even exchanged a word with him!

"How about catching a movie tonight?" He surprised me with the invitation. "There are some cool movies playing."

"Thank you, but I can't accept," I replied with maximum politeness.

"Why not?" He persisted.

I stared at him, surprised by the question, and for a few seconds, I tried to find an answer that wouldn't hurt his feelings. I hated hurting people.

"I'm very tired today."

"So, how about tomorrow?"

"I already have plans for tomorrow."

"We can schedule for Friday night, then," he stated this time.

"I don't think it's a good idea," I didn't know what else to say. "I'm dealing with some problems and have no desire to go out. You understand... What's your name again?"

"You can call me Bobby. That's what everyone calls me around here."

That information caught me by surprise, and the way he spoke did too. Now, more than ever, I felt the need not to upset Mr. Bobby.

"Maybe some other time, then, Bobby."

"I'll hold you to that!"

I smiled awkwardly and waited for him to walk down the long hallway before closing my door, using it as support for my body as I leaned against it.

"Another problem?" I asked the cosmos.

Of course, it didn't respond.

I woke up early the next day, and after a very meager breakfast-a plain buttered roll and a cup of black coffee, which I discovered was what the guesthouse owner served every morning-I set out in search of a job. I have experience as a cleaner, and that has to count for something.

I hated Liam Ricci with all my might when I returned in the evening after walking for hours and not finding anything. Sure, I had been nosy in suggesting he should seek help, but he didn't need to fire me just for that.

Upon further reflection, I should hate myself as well. Liam was known for his arrogance and explosive temper. He walked the company's hallways with firm steps and a stern gaze, always ready to reprimand anyone who dared to cross his path. His intimidating demeanor was enough to make even the most experienced employees tremble with fear. I shouldn't have messed with him.

I arrived in front of the rundown guesthouse where I was staying and sighed resignedly when I saw that some men were standing right in the middle of the path, in front of the entrance. There were at least five of them, and they looked quite intimidating with their rough expressions and dangerous appearance.

"Look, a new chick in the area," one of them said when he noticed my approach.

"Hmm, this chick looks delicious," another one said, making me nervous.

I hesitated whether to continue towards the entrance or turn around and pretend I didn't intend to enter the guesthouse just yet. However, soon, a familiar voice brought me a bit more reassurance.

"Let the chick be," Bobby warned with a firm voice. "You can go in, darling. I'll protect you from this bunch of vultures."

I accepted Bobby's intervention and walked past the group, my body tense with unease and fear of those men but too tired to refuse Bobby's generous offer.

"Thank you, Bobby," I said in an almost inaudible voice and entered the guesthouse.

The guest house was quiet and poorly lit, with a characteristic musty smell in the air. I walked down the narrow hallway until I reached my modest room. It was small and simple, but it was my refuge in that difficult moment of my life.

I lay down on the bed, reflecting on the circumstances that had brought me there. It was painful to admit, but I was feeling lost and helpless. As I replayed the events of the day in my mind, I remembered the arrogant Liam once again and felt a mixture of anger and another emotion I couldn't define at that moment. I dreamed about him when I finally managed to fall asleep.