Falling for Her

by A. C. Meyer

  “No, no, Miguel. You’re wrong . . .”

  “I’m sorry, Cadu. I don’t know exactly how you two are involved, though I know you are involved, but I’m sure she’s the one who did it. I can prove it.” I lean back in the chair, feeling the world spinning around me.

  I can’t believe that Mari, my Mari, could’ve done something like this. No, no, no. God, don’t let Miguel’s accusations be right, I pray silently, while he grabs a pile of papers from the case he’s holding. He pushes them to me and I start looking through the pages without actually seeing what’s written on them.

  “Do you remember when we went to São Paulo to install that e-mail tracking system?” I nod.

  “We feared something was up with the branch in São Paulo, some kind of leak or whatever.” Miguel nods and goes on.

  “I know you wanted me to install the software there only, but I had a feeling, a suspicion, I guess . . . And I installed it in every computer of the company.”

  “And how did it lead you to Mariana?”

  “She messages a girl named Lais all the time. At first it seemed like nothing, but then the messages seemed weird. It was as if she was showing off for ‘winning you over.’” He lowers his head, seeming embarrassed. “I’m sorry to invade your privacy. But by then, everyone was a potential suspect to me.”

  “Yeah. Well, and then?”

  “She e-mailed Lynn several times with sketches from the campaign. And yesterday, from her office computer she e-mailed her some pictures which I believe are from our photo shoot. You know that when Style wants to get ahead of us, they’ll print their magazines overnight so it can hit the newsstands first. Today, when I was leaving my house, it was the first thing I saw and I knew it had to have been her.”

  “Mariana sent them to Lynn?” I ask, baffled. Mari never liked Lynn very much . . . Or at least, she seemed to not like her. The story is so messed up that something just doesn’t feel right. “What’s in it for her?” I still can’t believe she’d be capable of doing something like that. Not my Mari.

  “A job. She interviewed there a few months ago.” He opens part of the documents, where there’s an e-mail from her, sending a résumé.

  From: Mariana Costa

  To: A. Marques

  Subject: Document

  Hi, Antônio!

  I’m sending that file. I can’t believe I’m doing this, but there’s no other way. I’m looking forward to his call.

  Once again, thank you for your trust.

  Cheers,

  Mariana

  Seeing that e-mail is like getting stabbed in the heart. I couldn’t imagine that the woman I fell in love with could harm a fly, let alone betray me like that. My heart is racing and I feel my throat closing up, my chest hurting deeply. I breathe in, trying to control my emotions. I’m too young to have a heart attack. Even if the woman I love has taken my heart and torn it in half.

  “Look,” said Miguel. “I think you need to read this slowly and think about what I told you so you can make the right call. I’ll leave you be, read it and, if you need anything, call me and I’ll help you out, okay?” I shake my head, feeling the ground disappearing beneath my feet.

  Miguel stands up and goes to the door, leaving me alone. I lean my head in my hands, completely terrified with everything I’ve heard so far. I decide to open the file and read it from the start, calmly, looking for some indication that my girl didn’t do this to me. She couldn’t have.

  Mari

  I feel anguished, my heart tight in my chest. I know how bad this whole situation is for Cadu, and that he could possibly lose his job at the magazine if the board of directors thought he was guilty. I am worried, thinking of all the things his brother could do and not knowing how to alert him, since he had no idea the scumbag his brother Zeca was. Gosh, how am I going to tell him? I take a deep breath, answering the next incoming call. It’s been half an hour since he and Miguel have been in his office and I couldn’t even turn my computer on. I’m here, just answering countless calls and taking messages. Suddenly, the door opens and Miguel leaves wearing a sadistic smile. I end the call and he comes near my desk, glancing strangely at me. After the embarrassing position he put me in just last night, I confess I started feeling a little afraid of him.

  “Oh, Mari, Mariana . . .” He puts his hands on the desk, facing me. “It’s too bad you’re so silly. If you’d only given me a chance, things might have turned out different.” He reaches out his arm and touches my face before I have a chance to pull away. “Too bad.” I move away and he leaves, laughing and making me even more confused.

  I take my phone and text Lais.

  Nearly two hours later, Cadu opens the door to his office and what I see takes my breath away. He’s not wearing his tie or his suit jacket, his sleeves are rolled up and he has unbuttoned the first couple of buttons of his shirt. His hair is a mess, evidence that he has been running his fingers through it nonstop. His eyes are red and it’s like he’s aged ten years in only a couple of hours. What shocks me the most, though, is the way he looks at me. There’s disgust and disappointment, and even some disdain. I’ve never seen him looking at anyone like that. I couldn’t see the passionate lover from last night or the even-tempered businessman who walked into this office just this morning.

  “What are you still doing here?” His voice is dry and sharp, and it hits me with the strength of a punch.

  “I don’t understand, Cadu.”

  Before I have a chance to finish, he yells, annoyed, “If you call me Cadu one more time, you’ll regret it. Pack your things and leave. NOW!”

  I start crying, unable to understand why he’s acting this way.

  “What is going on? Why are you doing this?” Tears stream down my face, but his gaze remains as hard as ever.

  “You have the nerve to ask me that? You’re even more of a fake than I imagined.”

  “Fake? What are—”

  “What did you think was going to happen? You thought I’d never find out? I’m no idiot, Mariana.”

  Oh, gosh, did Miguel tell him something about last night, something that didn’t happen? I didn’t want to tell him anything, worried at how Cadu would react, and it was my word against Miguel’s, but now, seeing his reaction, I didn’t even know what to think.

  “It’s not like that . . . Nothing happened, let me explain,” I say, crying. He comes closer and punches the desk with all his strength.

  “Fuck, Mariana, I trusted you and you betrayed me like this? I can’t forgive you for that. There’s no excuse. Get out. Take your belongings and get out. Leave the company’s smartphone on the desk. It’s over, you hear me? Someone will fetch my stuff at your house and deliver yours.”

  I never thought that rejection could hurt you physically. But that’s how I feel. Pain. Pain all over my body.

  “I don’t understand why you’re doing this to me,” I say, crying hard, unable to control my emotions.

  “Someone who has the guts to act so sordidly deserves no explanation. Enough! Out! Go! You have ten minutes to get your stuff and leave. I don’t ever want to see you again.” He turns around to his own office, his emotions palpable.

  I grab my things as fast as I can manage, getting together everything I’ve accumulated over the past few years working in this office, and the tears continue to flow. I can’t understand what happened. How did the problem with the magazine turn into a problem between us? What did Miguel tell him to make him act like that? Then he stops midway and turns to me, his face looking crushed, tears in his eyes.

  “I hope it was worth it. You disgust me.” He turns around and walks into his office.

  Sobbing, I place my cell phone on the desk and, when I grab my bag, the copy of The Little Prince he gave me falls out. I take the book and place it on the desk beside the phone. I leave the office leaving behind my gift, my job, and my heart.
r />   I walk down the hallway and the people who worked with me are still, facing me and whispering to each other, obviously talking about me. I do my best to keep my pride and hold my head up, knowing I did nothing I should be ashamed of. In the hall, Miguel and Roberta are waiting for me.

  “Well, well, it looks like someone has just been kicked out.”

  “Poor Mari . . . Oh, Mariana, things could’ve gone so different,” says Miguel, and I turn to him, drawing strength from God knows where.

  “Look, jackass, I don’t know what you told him, but I’m going to prove you lied.”

  “Really, doll? If you behave, maybe I can get the boss not to sue you,” he threatens. My chin almost hits my chest in my shock and confusion. Just as he finishes his threat, the elevator doors open and two security guards walk out of it.

  “Miss, we have orders to escort you outside,” they say. Completely embarrassed, I cry again, stepping in the elevator feeling beyond humiliated. “I’m sorry, Mariana. Mr. José Carlos told us to do it,” says Sérgio, one of the security guards who has always been quite nice to me. I nod, completely lost, not knowing what to do.

  “Mariana, do you want some water before you go?” Luiz, the other guard, asks, and I tell him no.

  “No . . . I . . . I want a taxi. Can you help me call one?” I am so shaken that I can’t do something as simple as call a cab. The guard follows me to the front of the building, asks a taxi to stop and helps me in. I tell the driver my address and he begins to drive to my house, while I watch all my dreams fade away in the rearview mirror.

  I was crushed and confused. I spent countless hours reading the papers Miguel had given me. A number of e-mails and messages led me to believe that Mariana had done all she could to earn my trust just so she could take advantage of me.

  At first, it was just a few silly messages between her and Lais, until some things started revealing another side of Mari.

  These were only a few of the many examples. Then there was her e-mail to someone called Antonio, sending a résumé. Several e-mails in her inbox related to the collection were sent to a personal e-mail, which led me to believe she was doing the whole “negotiation” from her personal account.

  Her last message was from last night. The collection photos were sent at 11:35 p.m., to her personal e-mail, and just this morning, a man called Pierre Moreau sent her a confirmation.

  From: Pierre Moreau

  To: Mariana Costa

  Subject: Application

  Dear Mademoiselle,

  The job is yours. Will you please get in touch as soon as possible so we can fill out the necessary paperwork. For your performance, we have a better offer.

  I thank you for your patience and await your contact.

  P. Moreau

  It all proved to me that she was nothing like I thought. More than disappointment, I feel a sort of physical pain, as if a knife has been stuck in my chest and is now cutting my body, slicing it open from head to toe. I never thought it was possible to feel this much pain. It feels like at every word, I go dry inside . . . and die a little. I am not just angry I was fooled. I am disgusted she was capable of doing all of that just to get ahead. I would have given her the world if she’d asked me. I would have given that woman anything and she turned out to be a manipulative, fake and materialistic girl.

  The pain I feel is unbearable. I want to punish her somehow. I left my office wanting to crush her, but when I see her, the few pieces of myself that were intact are suddenly broken. While she cries and apologizes, I wonder how anyone can be that mean. That cold and calculating.

  When she calls me Cadu, my stomach revolts, angry at myself for being so stupid and for ever trusting her. I send her away and go back to my own office, slamming the door, unable to stop the tears of sadness and disappointment any longer. I hardly ever cry, but at that moment, I couldn’t help myself. It was as if the tears could somehow wash away the sorrow I felt inside. I just wondered why. Why had she betrayed me in such a wicked way? I decide to confront her again, and when I approach her office, the door is open, and on the desk, are her phone and the copy of The Little Prince I gave her yesterday. When I see the book, I see a movie in my head of all the moments we’ve spent together. And then I break down. Tears won’t stop coming, the pain surrounds me, and I fall to my knees in the middle of the office, completely consumed by sorrow. It’s over. She’s gone, taking my dignity, my professional reputation, and my heart with her.

  Mari

  I get home and I can barely take off my shoes before I throw myself on my bed. The tears cloud my eyes, which is good, since this room is filled with memories. Not even all the things I went through with my ex-boyfriend put together hurt as much as this situation with Cadu is hurting now. I know I am in love, and that my life has revolved around him, and that spending every waking hour of my day by his side was like bungee jumping with no strings. Now that it is over, I feel like I’m in a free fall, with nothing to hold on to.

  I can’t tell how long I stay inside my bedroom, crying my eyes out. I need to show him that I didn’t do anything. But at the same time his reaction seemed a little over the top and I was upset he didn’t trust me. I try putting myself in his shoes and I thought that, if the roles were reversed, I probably wouldn’t have acted so differently. That’s what happens when you’ve been so hurt before and you fall hopelessly in love with someone. As strong as that feeling can be, the fear of getting hurt is much bigger when you feel threatened.

  I must’ve fallen asleep because when I felt someone’s hand shaking my shoulder softly I open my eyes to darkness.

  “Mari, girl, wake up.” I open my eyes slowly, leaving behind the sleepy numbness I was in. “It’s me, Lais. Darling, what happened?” she asks, passing her fingers through my hair, speaking slowly to me as if I were a child.

  “I . . . Cadu . . . I . . .” I’m not strong enough to say it. I mumble disconnected words, and when I remember what happened, I start crying again.

  “Honey, talk to me. I called your office, some lady told me you don’t work there anymore. I rang your doorbell several times, ended up using your spare key . . . What’s wrong, Mari? I’m worried.” Before I can form a sentence, I hear a deep voice in the room.

  “Mari, it’s Rodrigo. Drink some water.” He turns to Lais while he pushes the glass to me. “She looks weak and she’s shivering. I don’t think she’s had anything to eat.” He looks at me again and I shake my head in agreement, while I sip the water.

  “But I’m not hungry,” I protest, handing him back the glass. Rodrigo leaves and Lais pulls me into a hug.

  “Girl, talk to me.”

  “He broke up with me, Lais. And fired me.” I lower my head, embarrassed by my own situation. She hugs me tight and in a few minutes, Rodrigo is back with a plate full of food. He places it in my hands.

  “Mari, eat something. It’s just pasta. I’m sorry, I can’t cook anything else,” he says with a smile, and kisses my friend’s head before sitting in the chair in front of my bed. I force some food down my throat since I’ve really not eaten anything today, except for the breakfast I had earlier this morning in Cadu’s apartment.

  When I’ve had enough, I hand the plate back, which Lais places on my nightstand, and before I realize it, I start telling her everything that happened. And by that, I mean really everything: how people treated me at work; how rude Cadu’s brother had been; Miguel hitting on me the night before, and everything that happened until the moment of the fight. I talk about how surprised I was with his cruelty towards me, that he didn’t even hear me out. I explain that I knew we’d only been together for a short period of time, but I expected something different, just a little respect that wasn’t there at all when he talked to me.

  They both listen to me in silence. When I’m done, Lais has tears in her eyes and says, “Mari, I don’t get it. Why didn’t you say anything before? This i
s really serious, Rodrigo.” She turns to her boyfriend. “These things people keep doing to her at work, that’s bullying, isn’t it? She shouldn’t be going through that, right?”

  “Baby, I’d need to hear every little detail to see if you can call it bullying. But, no matter what, she should’ve told us, or Cadu . . . Or someone, I don’t know.” He sighs. “But you know what really surprises me about this? This isn’t like Cadu at all. He’s not jealous like that, or unstable like that. We’ve talked a lot about you and he always said that the workplace had nothing to do with your relationship. Even though you could easily use what’s been happening against him, claiming harassment . . . Anyway, Cadu has been my friend since we were kids. Something happened to get to him like that, and it’s not only what you’ve told us,” Rodrigo concludes, looking at me, and I don’t know what to tell him.

  “I’m sorry, but I didn’t do anything that might have . . .”

  “No, dear, that’s not what I meant,” he says, holding my hand. “This Miguel must’ve said something else . . . I don’t know, something very serious, if he acted like that.”

  We’re quietly thinking about what Rodrigo just said, when the phone rings and startles us.

  “Leave it, it’ll go to voicemail. I can’t handle my mom right now,” I say, presuming it’s her calling, and Lais nods. Then a drunk voice fills the silent house.

  “Fuck, Mariana, why? Why did you do it?” We’re all baffled. Cadu sounds drunk and crying over the phone. “I could’ve given you anything and you betrayed me. I loved you, why did you do that if I loved you?” Then, nearly in a whisper, he says, “Shit, I still love you.” I hear a loud sob and I start crying myself when I hear his despair. Before I have a chance to pick up, he ends the call.