New Mistakes

New Mistakes
Julia

After leaving for Brotas on Sunday morning, twenty-four hours later, I was already back at Cecília’s apartment — and with even more problems than when I’d left São Paulo.
Not to mention the several missed calls from Henrique.

Even though we were part of the same circle of friends, I’d only known him for a few weeks. Since then, Henrique had been calling me constantly, sending messages, and telling everyone he’d fallen in love with me at first sight.
Of course, I didn’t believe any of it. After everything I’d been through, that kind of talk sounded more like a warning than a compliment.

Cecília and I had ended up arguing again because of him. Henrique had offered me a job at his company after finding out I was unemployed, and when I refused, she got upset.
Right after the argument, she went out with her boyfriend — the one she’d been seeing for a while — and I stayed alone in the apartment, replaying everything that had been happening lately.

By late afternoon, I decided to look for my father. I thought maybe it was the right moment to try a reconciliation. São Paulo had already given me enough disappointments, mostly, and I could deal with college later.
But the truth was that I hadn’t been sleeping well since I quit my job, and that night was no different. When I arrived at the house where I’d grown up, already on Sunday, I was exhausted but hopeful. I had no idea I would leave it even more broken.

I explained that I wanted to move back in with him, that we could start over and leave the past behind. I admitted I’d overreacted when he told me about his relationship with Samantha — my former friend — and that I didn’t want to hold on to any more grudges.
Still, he was firm: there was no room for me in his life.

The scene only got worse when Samantha appeared in the living room, showing off a pregnant belly. That was the final blow. In that moment, I understood what he meant — there really wasn’t a place for me there anymore.

I grabbed the small backpack I’d brought and left. A bitter relief washed over me. It could’ve been worse if I’d brought all my things. I thought about going straight back to São Paulo, but it was already getting dark, and I couldn’t stand the idea of arriving at an empty apartment.
Cecília had texted me earlier to say she was going on a trip with her boyfriend and wouldn’t be back until Tuesday morning.
Even angry with me, she still cared enough to let me know, which said a lot about the kind of person she was. More than my father ever had.

Back in São Paulo, I lay down on the couch with the TV on but wasn’t really watching. My mind kept returning to the previous night — the one I was desperately trying to erase.
How could I have given myself to a stranger like that? We didn’t even exchange names. I buried my face in my hands, incredulous. I’d sworn I would never make that mistake again. And yet, I’d done exactly what I promised myself I wouldn’t.

Spending the night with a stranger was almost as bad as finding out he was taken. And of course, that was still a real possibility, a very likely one, in fact.
I hadn’t been tricked or misled in any way. The stranger hadn’t promised me anything except a night of pleasure — a promise he had kept quite thoroughly, I thought, feeling awful.
Not to mention… aroused, just from remembering.

I closed my eyes, and the memory came rushing back, far too vividly: his warm body, his strong arms around me, the way he looked at me...
I’d slipped out of his arms with difficulty, trying not to wake him. He was sleeping deeply, and I was grateful for that. I couldn’t have handled the awkwardness of the next morning, when we would’ve realized we didn’t even know each other’s names. We’d had a night of sex — nothing more, nothing less.
Still, my heart beat faster just remembering the tenderness in his touch, the intensity of his desire. It was irrational, I knew, but impossible to deny.

I sighed, turned off the TV, and decided to do something more productive than relive the past: look for a job. Even though it was a holiday, every day was a day to try to start over.
I grabbed my laptop and set it on the living room table. I opened the job sites, but the words seemed to blur together on the screen.
I sighed again, tired. Looking for a job with my mind this cluttered was like swimming against the current.

I tried to focus and started sending out a few résumés. Nothing too exciting — most of the openings paid poorly, required experience I didn’t have, or were too far away.
I closed the laptop and leaned back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. No matter how hard I tried to be strong, the feeling of always starting over from scratch was eating away at me.

The sound of my phone made me flinch. I picked it up, expecting to see Cecília’s name on the screen, but it wasn’t her.
Henrique. Again.
I rolled my eyes.
“This man just doesn’t give up…” I muttered, ignoring the call.

Seconds later, a message came in:

“Hey, Júlia. I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I just wanted to know if you’re okay. I heard you traveled, and I got worried.”

I sighed and rested my face in my hands. Henrique seemed genuinely interested, but I just couldn’t bring myself to trust anyone’s good intentions. Not anymore.
I set the phone aside and went to the kitchen to make some coffee. The familiar smell calmed me a little, reminding me of simpler days. That’s when the phone vibrated again.
This time, the name on the screen brought an involuntary smile to my face: Angel.

I answered without hesitation.
“Finally!” She complained, her sweet tone full of life as always. “I thought you’d run away to another country.”
“Almost.” I replied, trying to hide my exhaustion. “But I’m still here.”
“So? Did you talk to your dad?”
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath before answering.
“I did… and I regret it.”
“Júlia…” Her voice softened, full of understanding. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No, Angel. It’s done. I just need to move on now.”

There was a brief silence on the other end before she asked,
“And Henrique? He told me you’re not answering him anymore.”
“Because I don’t want to give him false hope. I’m not ready for any of that, Angel.”

“You talk as if he’s a monster.” She laughed lightly. “He can be impulsive, sure, but he’s a good guy.”
“I believe that. I just don’t want to get involved with anyone right now.”

Angel sighed but didn’t insist.
“Okay. But, changing the subject… Casa Luz needs help tomorrow. One of the volunteers caught a bad flu. If you want, you can come with me.”
I smiled, though I wasn’t sure I even wanted to leave the house.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Think about it carefully,” she said. “It’ll be good for you to get out a bit. And who knows… maybe clear your head.”

When the call ended, I stood still for a moment, phone in hand.
Clear my head.
That was exactly what I needed, and, at the same time, what I feared the most.