It's Sunday morning, and the girl is still sleeping. Not that it's late; it's seven in the morning, and I know she wakes up from eight onwards. That's probably why Gavin called me to talk. We're in the living area, leaning against the door frame and watching the faint movement below. It must be something serious, as he didn't even consider sending me a message or making a phone call.

I don't pressure him. I take a sip of the coffee he offered, pure and without sugar as I liked it. He drinks some strange fruit juice that I can't identify by its color. Then he finally sighs, ready to get to the point. I wait patiently for him to tell me what's bothering him.

"The conference is this Wednesday."

"I know."

"And Alexandra will be there."

I don't know what to say. I just nod and go back to drinking my coffee. Gavin crosses his arms, his second sign of annoyance. The first one was putting his hands in his pockets.

"I haven't spoken to her in at least five years."

"I know, Gavin."

"What should I do?"

"There's nothing to do. Go to the conference, talk to everyone, use and abuse your charismatic talents, and as soon as it's convenient, leave. I'm sure it will be easy."

"If you were in my place, you'd understand why I'm so nervous."

"Actually, I totally understand the reason for your distress. But she's just one person, and she can't hurt you unless you allow it."

"The thing is, I hurt her first."

"We're all bound to hurt someone at some point. We have to always be prepared."

He scoffs in a scornful expression with irritation and then drowns in silence. I sigh and try to be as pragmatic as possible as I explain:

"Alexandra has done remarkable things for her company, and she may well be one of the highlights of the event. I'm sure that by now, all the focus and strength she directs is towards business, not unfinished emotional matters. Especially because it's been a long time, and wounds tend to heal better when what caused them is far away."

"My presence can't reopen old wounds?"

"No. She would have to be very insensitive to dwell on old pains on such an important day."

Then I turn to him.

"But what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Are you afraid she might cause a scene and disturb you? But do you plan to talk to her about anything?"

"Just the necessary. The usual greetings, congratulations. I'll treat her like everyone else."

"Do your feelings for her still exist?"

He almost laughs at my question. Then he looks back towards the living room. He observes the room enough to know that no one is listening, and then he says:

"Any remnants of affection I could have for Alexandra were irrevocably purged."

I raise an eyebrow. Gavin doesn't notice, just keeps staring at some invisible point ahead.

Alexandra was the owner of Jew, one of the most prosperous and well-known real estate brokers in Latin America. She had dark green eyes and fair skin, black hair cut to the neck, and a striking presence wherever she went. She was vain, somewhat arrogant, and always knew what to do and say. Being in an almost one hundred percent male environment, Alexandra used her appearance to her advantage, but her strong speeches and verbal power were equivalent. It was said that it was impossible to say no to her orders disguised as innocent requests.

She was the total opposite of Gavin, who despite also being a successful businessman and responsible for a countless number of employees, always seemed to be a bit lost in his own ways. And it was at one of these conferences that my pure-hearted but somewhat weak friend met her.

It was love at first sight. He pampered and doted on her; she praised him and encouraged him to improve even more. After two intense years in a relationship with its ups and downs, Gavin proposed to her. Proudly, she showed off the ring to everyone, a fearless and confident smile was often seen on her face.

But one day Gavin saw something he considered unforgivable.

He was going to Jew's main office to surprise her. The secretary tried to stop him, but couldn't. As he approached the door to the room, he heard voices and giggles. And the conversation that followed was never told by him, who only affirmed with certainty that he was being cheated on. Not that there was carnal conjunction, but according to Gavin himself, she was "throwing a hint," shamelessly flirting. He didn't enter. He waited until the conversation ceased and waited for the guest to leave. It was James Ethan, his arch-rival in business, who just winked at him as he left.

Gavin didn't linger with inflamed speeches. He just went in and announced the breakup. Alexandra almost fell apart chasing after him, trying to explain that it wasn't what it seemed.

That same night, Gavin hung up the phone and became unreachable. And he poured all his frustration into alcohol, mixing whiskey with cachaça. Terribly drunk and hurt, he slept with a prostitute whose name and face he couldn't remember. But the next day, he told Alexandra, who freaked out and promised to hate him forever.

The two hadn't seen each other since then. Even at other annual conferences, the girl didn't show up. Rumors said that Jew's earnings had dropped so much that she was hiding in shame, but now, however, she was coming back. If I was right, Alexandra wouldn't be rude or unpleasant. James himself always kept a respectful distance and didn't even dare to breathe wrongly in her direction, despite the circumstances and the arrogant look that was always present.

Gavin remained closed and terribly down for at least three months. He tried his best not to talk about it, but he knew he was broken inside. And he felt very guilty for betraying his ex-fiancée, even if she had provoked that reaction. The only thing that kept him from completely freaking out was the course for Brazilian natives, which was starting to pick up at that time, and my constant visits and emotional support. That had been his therapy, but part of me knew that deep down, Alexandra would always occupy a piece of his heart.

Seeing him say with such conviction that his feelings for her had been eradicated completely caught me completely off guard. But I smile and declare, relieved, that I'm glad to hear that.

Inside my head, however, I feel that there is something intrinsically linked to this fact. Something I should pay attention to. I take another sip of my coffee.

"Yesterday she almost spoke."

I cough so violently that the coffee is immediately spat out. Gavin comes to me and helps me as best he can, patting my back. I gently push him away, indicating that I'm fine, and do my best to clear my throat.

"S-She spoke? Almost spoke? What do you mean?"

"She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something. But no sound came out."

I look at him, amazed.

"But she never opened her mouth to try to say anything. That... That's wonderful, Gavin."

His eyes shine. I think mine also reflect my joy.

"Yes, yes it is..."

Then he turns around, pensive. He opens an even bigger smile and stares at me.

"Let's go inside. I need to get breakfast ready for her."