millionaire heiress

Karen that I started not recognizing the womanizing and uncommitted man I had been before her. If I had known that my happiness could be numbered, I would not have made the choices I made. I wouldn't have.

wanted to be happier than I already was, because I feel like it was my ambition that took away everything I cared about in the world. Even though people said it was too early and that we both needed some alone time

before the kids, my wife and I were dying to have our frst heir. So we both ignored the intrusion of the people.

around us and went to the doctor to fnd out if the heart problem would be a risk to his life and that of the possible baby. Even though I really wanted to be a father at the time, I knew that I would never try anything if I suspected that everything could end the way it did. But we were assured that my wife could have a peaceful

pregnancy without risks for her or the baby if we followed medical recommendations and she received the necessary treatment. The gestation period was magical for both of us. The pregnancy confrmation came.

three months after we started trying and we were so happy that we started dedicating all our free time to our son. Like silly frst-time parents, we took courses, went shopping and decorated the baby's room with our own

hands. I went to every appointment, felt every touch and loved him from the frst moment. I remember as if it were yesterday the day she entered the operating room to deliver the baby and how her eyes were shining.

She entered the maternity ward smiling at me and that was the last smile I got from the woman I loved. It was the last time I saw her alive. They said the cardiac arrest was a fatality that could have happened to a woman

without any pre-existing illnesses, but I could never convince my mind and heart of that. I can't move forward.

without remembering that I lost my wife and my son in one fell swoop. As if it were a punishment for something unforgivable I did, I couldn't even see my baby alive. They left without me and I have nightmares almost every day about the image of earth being thrown over their cofns. Whenever I visit their tombstones, I

feel a stab of pain so sharp that it takes my breath away. Whenever I see happy people, I feel like I'm betraying their memories for the simple fact that I wish I could forget the empty, sad man I've become for at least a few minutes. So I became a man that few want to be around and I started dedicating myself completely to my

work. Before I met Karen, my life was my restaurant and partying on the weekends. After I loved her I started.

dividing my time, but everything went back to normal when I lost her. I do nothing but work and I feel like that's

what I need to forget that I'm still alive and that I have a heart that bleeds in my chest. Because I only thought about my typical local food restaurants, I made the decision to expand my horizons and open a branch in one of the largest capitals in the country. The chosen one is the capital of São Paulo and, between one

appointment and another, I ended up meeting Carlos again when I arrived last week, an old friend I met during.

the months I lived here to do a specialization in Japanese food a year before. to meet my wife. He is more than an acquaintance, Carlos became my closest friend and that has never changed. Carlos was the one who perfectly matched my party side and it was with him that I discovered all the clubs here. We didn't lose

contact with each other after I returned to Espírito Santo, which is why I accepted the invitation to have lunch with your parents as soon as I arrived a few days ago. Mr. and Mrs. Botelho are very kind people who treated

me like family every time we were together. I haven't had the opportunity to meet the adopted sister yet.

considering she's never home, but my friend talks about her so much that it feels like I know her intimately.

Not that anything about her personality interests me. I just laugh at the stories Carlos tells, just like I would laugh at a teenage sister if I had one. But I don't always like Carlos. Now, for example, I hate him for making.

me come here. He knows my story, he's smart enough to understand my mood without me having to open my mouth to say something, but today he took it upon himself to try to cheer me up. Not only did I not say that nothing would be able to alleviate the feeling that my soul was being torn apart every moment for twelve

months, but I accepted one of his many invitations to go out. I did it with the intention of making him realize that it was useless to keep trying to get me out of the deep end. Now I'm here alone and licking my own wounds while drinking. At least I can breathe a sigh of relief that he thought only with the head of his dick and disappeared behind a skirt fve minutes after we arrived. On the other hand, I haven't left my seat for an hour.

No matter how much I drink, I can't feel like I'm drunk enough. I'm also tired of ignoring covetous glances from women who don't interest me. That's why I choose to keep my head down, as if there's something very

interesting to look at at the bar. I feel the exact moment the atmosphere changes around me. First I smell an almost citrusy scent with something sweet, a smell that makes the invisible hairs on the back of my neck

stand up instantly. The immediate reaction makes me want to lift my head and stare at the woman who just sat down in the empty chair next to me at the bar, but I stop myself from making it look like I want to meet her.

When she fnishes settling down next to me, she's as still as I am and that's actually comforting in a way. I know she is a woman, because this good perfume could never be confused with something masculine. The

two of us spend several minutes side by side without moving, so still that others might believe we're not breathing. But there comes a moment when curiosity gets the better of me, so I lift my head discreetly and turn my face toward her. Sensing my movement, the woman also moves and looks directly into my eyes. I am

taken by surprise by the beauty of a young woman with fair skin, brown eyes and hair as far as I can see in the dimly lit place. The girl is really beautiful and I couldn't help but notice, because even my miserable state didn't

make me blind. What's strange is thinking that I've seen many beautiful girls like her and none of them caused.

any reaction in me. What really catches my attention are the red eyes, which betray the fact that she had just cried, and the deep sadness that I identify on her face. I live with pain every day and I don't wish the same for anyone else, but something in me rejoices and feels relieved knowing I'm not the only one broken in a place

only happy people should go. — Martino, pour me a glass of beer, please — the woman asks, without taking.

her eyes off me. - Beer? You never miss anything that strong,” the bartender says and lets me know she’s a regular. — I know, but today I want something different. — For some r