—We have a room. You can stay. No rent. You’re already here every day… and Alice needs you.
Livia stepped back as if the proposal was an insult.
—No. I am not charity.
—It’s not charity. It’s logical.
And in that word “logical” Thiago hid what he didn’t dare to say: that it wasn’t just Alice who needed her. That he needed her too.
Livia looked at him, and for the first time her voice sounded different.
“And you?” he asked. “Do you need me?”
The question hung in the air, heavy, alive. Thiago saw in her eyes the same confusion he felt. They drew closer without realizing it, breathing the same air. Thiago could smell her simple, floral perfume. He saw a small mark on Lívia’s neck that he had never noticed before. Her lips parted only slightly…
Then Alice wept from the room, as if fate itself had knocked on the door.
The bubble burst. Livia stepped back, ashamed, and went to see the baby. And it was there, in that room, where the truth shattered everything.
In the shallows, a tiny light flickered. Livia approached, frowned, touched the base… and discovered the camera.
The ice seeped into her blood. She searched the house. She found another one on the clock. Another in the kitchen. All pointing to the places where she had been with Alice.
When Thiago entered the room, Lívia already had a camera in her hand. Her face was pale, her eyes blazing with rage.
—You watched me all this time.
It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.
Thiago felt the ground disappear.
—Livia, I…
“What were you going to explain?” her voice trembled. “That you pretended to trust me while you spied on me? That everything I told you… you already knew? You investigated me?”
—I needed to be sure that Alice…
“And I opened my heart to you!” she cried, breaking down. “I thought there was something real… and it was a lie. You never trusted me.”
Lívia threw the camera onto the sofa and went to the bedroom to gather her things. Thiago followed her, pleading, trying to explain that it was fear, trauma, pain. But she wouldn’t listen. She stuffed her clothes into the bag with trembling hands, tears streaming down her face.
Alice woke up to the noise. She saw Livia with the bag… and screamed:
—Mom! Mom!
That scream pierced Thiago’s body. Lívia knelt down and kissed the baby’s forehead.
“Forgive me, princess,” he whispered.
Then she looked at Thiago with eyes full of pain.
—I fell in love with you… and your daughter. But I can’t stay with someone who doesn’t trust me.
And he left.
The door closed. And, for the first time since Fernanda’s death, Thiago felt he was losing something alive. Something that had begun to heal.
The next three days were the worst of her life. Alice collapsed. The baby stopped eating, stopped sleeping. She cried, searching for Lívia in every room. At night she would wake up screaming “mama,” and when she saw Thiago alone, she would cry even louder, inconsolable.
Thiago tried to hire other employees. It was a disaster. Alice rejected them all. She yelled at one and backed away, hitting her head. To another, she simply refused to look at her, closing her eyes as if she could erase her presence.
At the company, Thiago was a ghost. He missed meetings, signed documents without reading them, and made mistakes. His partners called him to an urgent meeting.
“You need professional help,” they told her. “For you and for the girl.”
But Thiago knew the truth: it wasn’t a medical problem. It was grief. It was loss. It was love broken by mistrust.
And there, on a sleepless night, watching old recordings as if punishing himself, Thiago accepted it: Alice wasn’t the only one who missed Lívia. He did too. With painful clarity, he understood that he was in love with her. And that he had pushed her away out of fear.
On the fourth day, he left Alice with her mother and went out to look for her. He had the old address. The apartment owner, a gruff man, told him that Lívia had mentioned a shelter in the eastern part of the city. Thiago visited four shelters before he found her.
She was sitting on a bunk bed, thinner, with deep dark circles under her eyes. In her hand she held a photograph. Thiago recognized the image from afar: it was a photo of Alice, the same one he had printed and left on the refrigerator.
Her heart broke.
—Lívia —he said, and the name came out like a sentence.
She looked up, surprised… and then looked away, as if seeing it was physical pain.
—You shouldn’t be here.
Thiago knelt down, not caring about the ground, not caring about the stares.
“Alice isn’t eating. She isn’t sleeping. She’s dying without you.” His voice broke. “And so am I.”
Livia shook her head.
—And trust, Thiago? How could we?
He swallowed, as if he were about to confess a sin.
“I trust you.” And, for the first time, he said it without pride. “The cameras were my fear talking. My paranoia. My trauma. But you know what they revealed? They revealed that you are the kindest, most dedicated… most incredible person I’ve ever met. That my daughter loves you… and that I…” His throat closed. “…I’m in love with you.”
Livia closed her eyes. Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably.
—Don’t say that… because… because I’m in love with you too.
When she looked at him, there was fear.
—But look at me, Thiago. I’m a cleaner with no diploma, no family… you’re a rich businessman. How am I ever going to be enough? How am I ever going to… replace your wife?
Thiago took her hands with a gentle firmness.
“You don’t replace anyone. Fernanda will always be part of our story. But you are unique. And Alice doesn’t need a replacement. She needs Lívia. The woman she chose.”
Lívia broke down and threw herself into his arms as if her life depended on it. Thiago held her as if he were holding a second chance.
That same night, Lívia returned with him. When she opened the door of the mansion, Alice was in her grandmother’s arms, crying softly. But as soon as she saw Lívia, her eyes widened as if the sun had entered the house. She stretched out her arms and cried out with a clarity that left no doubt:
-Mother!
Livia ran, took her in her arms, crying. Alice clung with impossible strength, burying her face in her neck, trembling as if afraid she would disappear again.
“I’m here, princess,” Livia whispered. “Mom’s here. I’m never leaving again.”
Thiago watched the scene and felt his chest fill with life.
That night, Thiago did something he should have done from the beginning. He took out each camera, one by one, and placed them on the table.
“I want you to do it with me,” he said, picking up a hammer.
Together, they destroyed each one. The metal shattered, the plastic cracked, and with each blow, Thiago felt he was killing a piece of his distrust. When they finished, there were no secrets left. Only a floor full of debris… and cleaner air.
Thiago turned towards her.
—It’s over. No surveillance. No lies. Just trust.
Livia cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. It was a trembling kiss at first, as if fear still lingered. Then it deepened, filled with promises. When they parted, they were both crying and smiling at the same time.
Days later, Thiago made him an offer that didn’t sound like charity, but rather like a future offer.
—I want you to finish your studies. I’ll pay for them.
Livia initially denied it, but he insisted with a truth:
“It’s an investment. You have a gift. Look what you did for Alice. How many children could you help?”
Livia agreed, but on one condition.
—And you too will allow yourself to live again. Without guilt. Without fear. Our love… will grow at its own pace.
Thiago let out a laugh he didn’t remember having.
—At your own pace, then.
And time passed, and the house flourished. Alice continued to move forward. Lívia studied while the baby slept and turned the afternoons into therapy disguised as play. Thiago reduced his workload and began to be a real father, not just a busy man with hidden tears.
Eight months later, they decorated the room with pink and white balloons. It was Alice’s birthday: one year and seven months. The party was small: just the three of them, her grandmother, and two physiotherapists who had become friends with Lívia. She was in her last semester. She looked beautiful in a yellow dress Thiago had bought her, with a different glow in her face: the glow of someone who has rediscovered her self-confidence.
They sang “Happy Birthday.” Alice clapped her hands, excited about the cake. And Thiago, next to Lívia, intertwined his fingers with hers as if that gesture were an oath.
Then, the impossible happened.
Alice looked at her favorite teddy bear on the sofa and started crawling toward it. Halfway there she stopped. She looked at her legs. She looked at the sofa. And with a determination that took everyone’s breath away, she placed her hands on the sofa and… bent her knees.
—Lívia… —Thiago whispered, squeezing her hand.
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