Real.Doc - Part 1 (English Version)

At least he's paying for your services

After spending the night with Guilherme at a pub somewhere in Germany, I returned home feeling like a teenager fearing parental reprimand.

Upon entering the house, I discovered Cesar seated in the living room armchair, watching television with apparent calm.

"Hey," I greeted tentatively, still carrying the apprehension of a teenager anticipating disapproval.

Cesar raised a hand calmly, gesturing for attention. "What's this?" he asked, holding up the necklace Ian had given me.

"Where did you find it?" I inquired, recalling vividly that I had placed it in one of my clothing drawers.

"You know where it was," he replied.

"So you're going through my things now?"

"Lilian," he interjected firmly, signaling the gravity of the situation. For a brief moment, my mind wandered to the household laundry process and who handled my clothes, but I refocused on the matter at hand. Cesar's anger over the necklace needed immediate address. The laundry matter could wait.

"It's a gift from Ian," I explained.

"That's what I thought," he muttered nervously, tossing the necklace aside. "At least he's paying for your services."

"Cesar!"

"Enough! Whether it's your vampires or Ian or whoever, you're NEVER home! There's no point in us living together," he practically shouted. "And what's with those clothes?" he added, noticing my gothic attire. Before I could respond, he took a deep breath and continued, "Forget it, it doesn't matter... I was just waiting for you to say goodbye."

"What?" I was taken aback.

He switched off the television, grabbed his wallet and keys from the coffee table, and headed towards the door, where I noticed the suitcases for the first time. I tried to comprehend.

"Where are you going?"

"I found another place nearby," he answered.

"What?! When?!"

"You wouldn't know, would you? You're never home," he remarked, moving towards the door. I followed.

"I was working!"

"Or sleeping with whoever."

"Cesar!"

"Even after what happened between us."

His last statement stunned me, but before I could respond, he loaded the luggage into the car.

"Cesar, you can't do this."

"Yes, I can."

"Cesar, please..." I pleaded, but he got into the car and shut the door. As he started the engine, despair washed over me.

"Wait! Cesar!" I called out. When I heard the gears engage, I knocked on the window and implored, "Wait!"

But he drove off, leaving me in his dust. Suddenly, a thought struck me. Was it him at the bar? Did he go there to spy on me? He saw more than he bargained for, that's for sure. And now, was he questioning me to ascertain the truth?

Well, if that were his reason for anger, then so be it. Though my heart ached, I had to confront my reality.