The apartment was a mess.
The clothes I'd picked out were scattered across the bed like a tiny storm had blown through. Every time I put something on, I changed my mind five minutes later.
"Pants are too formal, but a dress feels forced… am I overdoing it?"
The words slipped out loud, almost a confession to the mirror, but the answer came from behind me in that teasing tone only one person could pull off.
"You're spiraling, Helena."
Lívia appeared in the doorway with a cup of juice in hand, watching the scene with a mix of laughter and concern.
"I swear I haven't seen you this nervous since the Genetics seminar. And that day you practically had a syncope in front of everyone."
I rolled my eyes and tossed the blouse onto the bed.
"I'm not nervous."
"Of course you're not." She took another sip, then walked toward the bed and shook her head at the mountain piling up there. "You're just sweating, tripping over your own clothes, and checking the clock every thirty seconds. Totally normal."
"Ha-ha, very funny."
"Isn't it?" She laughed, leaning on the doorframe. "Look at you. You don't even look like the girl who swore relationships were a waste of time."
I grabbed a shirt and threw it at her.
"And you don't look like someone who can keep a secret. Even Bianca came to ask if I was dating an older guy."
She swatted the shirt aside, laughing.
"Friend, you hid the guy from me for almost two weeks. Two! I deserve an award for patience. And now that I'm finally meeting 'this Caio,' you really think you can stop me from teasing you? Never."
"It's not 'this Caio,' okay?"
"Oh, sorry." She made a theatrical bow. "The great, mysterious, charming Caio."
"You're insufferable."
"And you're in love. So, in the end, I win."
I sighed, pulling my hair into a messy bun.
"It's nothing huge, just… an introduction. You asked to meet him, remember?"
"Yes, and I also asked you not to wear that button-up that looks like a school uniform."
I stared at her in the mirror, offended. "What's wrong with it?"
"You look like an intern going to an interview. You want to make a good impression, not look like you're about to hand in a résumé."
"My God." I flopped onto the bed, defeated. "Why did I invite you again?"
"Because without me you'd still be in pajamas and plotting an escape route."
"I did not plan an escape!" I lied with a straight face.
"You did." She stepped closer and pulled a light blue blouse from the hanger. "This one. It's easy, not too revealing. And it matches your 'I'm nervous but trying to look chill' face."
"My what look?"
"Trust me." She tossed the blouse into my lap.
While I put it on, she walked to the window and opened the curtains. Sunlight poured into the room in a warm, golden wash.
"It's a beautiful day," she said. "Good omen."
"You sound like a fortune-teller."
"I don't do that anymore, I never got anything right," she laughed. "This, my dear in love, is female intuition raised to the ninth power."
I rolled my eyes and slipped on my shoes.
"You're going to keep annoying me until we leave, aren't you?"
"Yes." She grabbed her bag. "But it's out of love. And to make sure that, if all goes well, I can officially approve my brother-in-law."
"Brother-in-law?"
"Well, if I'm practically your sister, what does that make him? Honorary brother-in-law."
"You're impossible."
"And you're blushing."
"Lívia!"
She burst out laughing and headed for the living room.
"Come on, before you change again."
The ride to the restaurant was a mix of nerves and occasional teasing.
In the car, Lívia chatted nonstop with the driver, begged for song after song, and I could only laugh at how hard he tried to be polite.
"He's meeting us there, right?" she asked, adjusting her sunglasses.
"Yeah. He said he'd go straight after work."
"Mhm. And how long have you been staring at your phone?"
"I'm not looking."
"Bold-faced lie. You looked three times in the last ten seconds."
I forced myself to look out the window.
"It's just… habit."
"Ahh, love. When will it be my turn," she said dramatically.
"Lívia."
"Okay, okay." She raised her hands, laughing. "But I'm excited, girl. I want to meet the guy who made you trade Biology textbooks for voice notes with smiley faces at the end."
"You're insufferable."
"And you're in love. Balance of the universe. Oh, I love this song," she said, perking up and promptly ignoring me as she started to sing, "This love has taken its toll on me…"
The restaurant sat on a wide, lively corner, like a colorful pocket tucked between avenues. The sound of a band rehearsing drifted out from inside, mixed with laughter and conversations. It looked incredible. Vintage cars gleamed under the lights and the walls were covered with posters and engine parts. In the back, a bowling lane where people laughed and played.
"My God, this looks like an '80s uncle's paradise," Lívia said, delighted. "But I love it."
"It's… different," I murmured, looking around.
She nudged my shoulder.
"Different is good. The guy's got taste. Point for him."
We laughed and chose a table near the stage area, where the sound was still soft. The waiter brought menus, and I noticed my hands tremble slightly when I set them on the table.
"Relax, Helena," Lívia said, watching me. "You're acting like you're introducing him to your parents. I know I'm important, but it's not that deep."
I couldn't help laughing.
"Sure, mom… I know. He said he'd be quick."
"And how long has it been?"
I checked the time. "About fifteen minutes."
"Fifteen? Then relax. São Paulo traffic, remember?"
I nodded, but still picked up the phone and checked the screen for the fifth time. No notifications. No messages.
The waiter returned with our drinks, and the clink of ice in the glass eased my nerves a little.
Lívia bit the tip of her straw, studying me. "Okay, but seriously do you really like him?"
I thought for a moment before answering.
"I do. It feels like I've known him before."
Lívia propped her chin on her hand. "As long as he's on the same wavelength."
"He is. At least… I think he is."
"You need to be sure, girl," she said, suddenly serious. "Don't worry I'll squeeze a real confession out of him."
I couldn't help laughing at her proud, chin-tilted look.
"Then I'm counting on you. He should be here soon."
Time moved slowly, but the waiting made my anxiety creep back in.
"How about calling him?" Lívia suggested, seeing I couldn't sit still.
"Good idea," I said, standing and walking to a quieter spot.
The phone rang, but no one picked up. It went to voicemail, so I went back to the table with a forced smile.
"Maybe he's just running late," I tried to say, almost to myself. "Or he left his phone somewhere since he's not answering."
"Or he's stuck in traffic. Or he stopped to save a kitten. Helena, relax," she joked, trying to lighten the mood as she grabbed a fry. "You can't beat yourself up."
"I'm not beating myself up."
"You are. And you're in love, which is worse."
I chuckled softly, trying to drag my eyes away from the dim phone screen.
"Lívia, it's not that."
"Right. It's purely scientific, huh? Biochemical interaction between two adult human beings in an urban setting."
"Did you study Psychology or theater?"
"Depends on the day."
Ten minutes passed. Fifteen. Twenty.
My juice glass was empty, and Lívia started glancing around, trying to ease the atmosphere.
"Want to order while he's not here?"
"No. I'd rather wait."
"So you'll sit with an empty stomach and an anxious heart. Great combo."
"Lívia, please."
She sighed and lifted her hands.
"Okay. No jokes. I promise."
The band got louder. Blue lights began to pulse on the ceiling. Still no message. No "I'm here." No "On my way."
I picked up my phone and opened our chat. The last message was from him, sent the night before:
"See you tomorrow. Don't forget your smile."
Lívia caught my expression and stayed quiet for a while. Then, in a softer tone:
"Maybe he just lost track of time."
I forced a smile. The clock said we'd been waiting an hour by the time I finally set my phone on the table, resigned.
Lívia touched my hand.
"Do you want to go?"
I shook my head.
"No. I want to wait a little longer."
"Are you sure?"
"I am. Maybe he'll still come."
She looked at me tenderly.
The noise of laughter around us felt distant. And for the first time, something small and uncomfortable tugged at the back of my mind a little sting I didn't know how to name.
Lívia sighed, stirring her straw.
"I don't like seeing you like this."
"I'm fine."
"No, you're not."
"It's just a delay."
"Helena."
I looked at her.
"It's okay to be scared," she said, serious now. "Sometimes fear shows up right before the answer."
I didn't reply. I didn't know what to say.
After almost two hours, there weren't any excuses left that made sense. Some tables around us had already turned over, the lights were changing color, and the waiter had come by a third time to ask if I wanted to order. I just shook my head, trying to hide my frustration behind a polite smile.
"Helena…" Lívia propped her chin in her hand, watching me with the look of someone out of arguments. "I think we should go."
I nodded slowly. I grabbed my bag and my phone still clinging to that absurd hope that, right there, at the last second, he would appear.
But the world kept spinning, indifferent.
The ride back was quiet. Lívia respected my mood, maybe realizing any words now would be too much. When the car stopped in front of my building, she turned to me with a half-smile.
"Girl… it could just be a hiccup, okay? From what you've told me, he seems like a stand-up guy. Something must've happened."
I nodded, but the knot in my chest didn't loosen.
"If he doesn't text you by tomorrow, then I'll help you write the hate speech," she joked, trying to draw out a smile.
"Thanks, Lívia," I murmured, opening the door.
"Want me to come up?"
"No. I'm okay."
"You're lying badly, but fine."
She winked, and I laughed, even if it was tired.
When I was alone in the apartment, the silence felt bigger than usual. I kicked off my shoes, left my bag on the couch, and stood in the living room staring at the window. I felt ridiculous too dressed up, expecting too much, feeling too much.
I picked up my phone one last time. No message. I tried calling, but it was off.
I lay down on the couch, and before I could sort through what I felt, sleep rolled in heavy and dreamless.