The bus swayed lightly along the road, and every jolt seemed to amplify my fear. I stared out the window, but I saw nothing. The streetlights, the passing cars—everything was blurred, as if the world were moving too fast while I stayed stuck in the same second.
Rafael was beside me, silent, but his presence… it was the only thing keeping me grounded.
I tried to keep my breathing steady, even though the air felt trapped in my throat. That was when I felt his hand touch mine.
— Come here — he murmured, low enough that only I could hear.
I moved closer without thinking, and he adjusted my head onto his shoulder. The scent of his T-shirt, the warmth of his arm, the solidity of his shoulder… all of it began to undo the knot inside me, thread by thread.
He ran his hand through my hair, slowly.
— Try to rest a little — he asked.
— I… can't — I replied, but my voice was already weak.
He kept stroking my hair, a slow, steady caress that felt almost like a mantra.
And without noticing, my eyes closed for a few minutes.
When I woke up, the bus was already slowing down, pulling into the station. The sky was a deep blue, almost night. My heart started racing again. Now the fear was real, present, sharp enough to hurt.
Rafael leaned in slightly, his voice low:
— We're here.
I nodded, even with my throat dry.
We got off… he walked beside me, didn't touch me, but his arm passed so close that if I leaned a centimeter, I would brush against him.
We took the first taxi we saw.
The hospital appeared in front of us with its white lights, cold windows, and that unmistakable smell of disinfectant mixed with worry.
Inside, the reception area was almost empty.
— Patient's full name? — the clerk asked.
— Ingrid Lins — I answered, my voice trembling.
I filled out the form too fast, misspelling letters, crossing things out, rewriting. Rafael stayed behind me the whole time, quiet, attentive. It felt like if I collapsed, he would catch me before I hit the floor.
— You can go up — the clerk said. — Room 207.
I tightened my grip on my backpack and headed for the elevator.
— I'll stay in the hallway — Rafael said. — Take your time… there's no rush.
I could only nod before stepping inside.
When I opened the door to the room, the air left my chest as if it had been ripped out.
My mother was sitting on the bed, a gauze pad on her forehead.My father lay in the other bed, his arm in a cast and a bandage wrapped around his torso.
— Helena — my mother called, her voice trembling and relieved at the same time.
I went to her immediately. Her hug was so tight it almost hurt—or maybe I was just too weak.
— What happened? — I asked, my voice already breaking. — How was the accident? I was terrified…
My mother touched my face, a mix of affection and guilt.
— We were coming back from the grocery store — she said slowly. — A driver didn't see the curve… came into our lane. Your father tried to swerve.
— But I couldn't avoid it completely — my father added, with a tired smile, the kind only someone doped up on painkillers can manage.
I turned to him, my chest tightening.
— Dad… what did the doctors say? Did it hurt? How are you…?
He took a deep breath.
— I broke my arm, two ribs… but I'm okay. It hurt at the moment; now they've given me painkillers. The doctor said I was lucky.
My mother nodded, her expression wavering slightly.
— I hit my head on the glass when the car spun — she explained. — They did a CT scan. Everything's fine, I just need to stay under observation to be sure.
I squeezed her hand between mine.
— You should have called me sooner — I murmured, my voice thick. — I would have come right away.
— Sweetheart… — my mother whispered — you have college, your life there… we didn't want to worry you more than necessary.
— Too late for that — I murmured, with a sad half-smile.
She touched my face again, as if brushing away some shadow.
— But how did you get here? Alone? You must have been desperate…
— I didn't come alone — I replied, taking a deep breath. — I came with the landlord's son. Rafael. He… he helped me with everything.
My mother let out a relieved sigh, as if a weight had lifted from her shoulders.
— Where is he?
— Outside — I said. — In the hallway.
She nodded firmly, as if organizing her thoughts.
— Then go get him. I want to thank him for what he did for you.
My father lifted his chin slightly.
— Me too. Sounds like a good kid.
I swallowed hard.I stood there for a second, trying to slow my own heart before going to get him.
— I'll call him.
I opened the door slowly, trying to breathe before facing the hallway.And there he was.
Rafael was sitting on a plastic chair against the wall, elbows on his knees, hands clasped, head down. When he heard the door open, he looked up immediately.
— They want to see you — I said, my voice barely there.
He stood up so fast the chair scraped the floor. It wasn't panic… it was determination, like he'd been given a mission. When he reached the door, he stopped for a second and took a deep breath.
— Let's go — he said softly.
We entered the room together. My mother lifted herself slightly in bed, her look curious but gentle.My father watched us too, chin raised.
— Good evening — Rafael said, respectful. — I'm Rafael… Joaquim's son.
My mother smiled—not a big smile, but a kind one.
— Thank you so much for bringing her — she said. — I imagine it was hard for both of you.
Rafael shook his head.
— It was nothing… she wasn't in any condition to come alone — he replied.
My mother observed his answer. I saw her eyes move from him to me… and then back again, understanding more than I would have liked her to understand in that moment.
She sighed.
— You must be tired — she said. — It can't have been an easy day for you.
— I'll stay here with you tonight — I said quickly, already feeling my body tense at the thought of leaving.
My mother made an automatic face of disapproval.
— Absolutely not. — she said. — Helena, we're fine. The nurses are great, the staff is attentive. There's no reason for you to spend the night here.
I grumbled.
— Mom, don't start—
I didn't even finish.
Rafael took a step to the side, standing very close to me without touching.
— Mrs. Ingrid… — he said with a calm I didn't have. — She went through a big scare today.
He didn't look at me while he said it—but I felt like it was for me too.
Then he added:
— If anyone has to stay awake here, it can be me.
My mother raised an eyebrow, firm, but with a corner smile.
— No. — she cut in. — Both of you had a heavy day. A scare like that knocks anyone down.
She adjusted the blanket over her legs, taking control of the conversation.
— Stay a little longer with us, talk, breathe… then go home. Tomorrow you can come back. You need to rest.
My father agreed with a nod.
And there, in that room, it became impossible to deny: without making any noise at all, Rafael was walking through the door of my world.