Page 102 of Just My Type of wrong guy

It’s just that I’m really afraid of falling in love

I’ve been through this before.

And you’re helping me move past it,

but I don’t want to be a burden in your life.

Deixa Acontecer - Grupo Revelação

The cold water crashes down like a cutting waterfall, drenching my hair before sliding mercilessly over my skin, making every muscle tense. I could switch to hot—just turn the tap the other way and sink into comfort.

But no. I’d rather punish myself for losing control over something as simple as a night with A.J.

I first walked into this house almost thirty days ago, and in here we’ve been friends—just friends—every single day. No complications. And now, in one simple moment of weakness or—hell—anger, I drank enough to forget if anything actually happened.

If anything did happen.

I feel like garbage for not even knowing, and for snapping at A.J., and for leaving him alone after everything he shared with me yesterday.

I run my hands over my body, trying in vain to scrub away this suffocating sense of failure. It’s humiliating to feel so weak and anxious because my dad doesn’t approve of my career. For God’s sake, A.J. faced far worse and still meets life with a smile and sees the glass—much more than—half full.

I don’t call myself optimistic, but I’m not pessimistic either. My dad’s abandonment, though, makes me see the glassnot just half empty, but cracked, about to shatter at the slightest touch.

As if I’m still a twelve-year-old girl trying not to disappoint dear old dad. But I’m not. I’m a woman forging my own path.

It hurts to remember how I discovered my love for music beside my dad when I was ten, marveling at how music moved people. Now, between us, all that remains is the distance. But I refuse to carry that weight any longer.

Just like A.J. gave up having his parents around to be happy with his choices, I have to do the same. I don’t sing to please Luiz Saldanha —I have a career for myself, and I need to start living that truth.

I turn off the shower, grab the towel, and wrap it around me. I face my anxious reflection in the mirror, knowing my issues with my dad aren’t the only ones I need to sort out.

I scan my face, my body, searching for any memory of last night—any clue to what happened. But I stop before I find anything. Because if something happened, the only thing worse than not remembering… would be remembering.

I turn from the mirror, pick up my phone, and sit on the closed toilet lid in the gray bathroom. I open my contacts and tap “Call” on the only number that makes sense right now.

“Good morning—look who remembered she has a cousin, manager, and best friend,” Thalia ironizes on the other end, and I accept the jab. I haven’t so much as texted her since we visited Guilherme’s place.

“Hey, gorgeous—how are you?”

“Great. I closed my last two clients, so now I can actually leave work on time without guilt. Oh—” Thalia pauses, and I’m about to ask what’s up when she continues. “As of January, I’ll be a senior auditor…”

“Oh my god, Thalia! You’re finally getting promoted—I can’t believe it!”

My reflection grins in the mirror, almost forgetting why I called.

“Neither can I—now it’s five more years to coordinator and hopefully less work burnout. But you definitely didn’t call to talk accounting trends in the States…” she whispers, curious.

“First, how are Aunt and Uncle?”

“They’re fine—normal. Your dad…”

“No. I don’t want to talk about him.”

I cut her off. I have zero time for him right now.

“Wow, I was just going to say he asked about you.”

“My dad has my number, Thalia. If he wants to hear from me, he can call me himself. And I forbid you from saying anything about me,” I add seriously.

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