For two days, Camila lived with the email as a constant presence. She printed it out and carried it in her suit pocket, the creased paper a physical manifestation of her turmoil. She read it between court sessions, before bed, the words becoming a part of her. The urge to reply was a physical ache, a constant pressure behind her sternum. But she respected Lívia's strange request, trusting that there was a reason for it.
On the third night, unable to sleep, she found herself not in her office, but on her computer, searching for flights. It wasn't a conscious decision; it was an instinctual one. The fear was still there, a cold knot in her stomach, but it was overshadowed by a more powerful force: the overwhelming need to see her, to close the distance, to know if the connection they felt was real or just a memory.
She booked a flight to Lisbon for the following Friday. It was impulsive, reckless, and completely unlike her. It felt like coming back to life.
The next day, she sat down to write the reply. She didn't try to be eloquent or profound. She just wrote the truth.
*Your email is in my pocket. I've read it so many times that the paper is soft. I look at your name in my inbox and it feels like a lifeline.*
*You asked if I feel it too. I feel it in every empty room, in every song on the radio, in every moment of silence that isn't filled with your voice. The space between us isn't empty, Lívia. It's a vacuum, and it's sucking the air out of my life.*
*I was wrong. I thought I was being strong, but I was just being a coward. I let the fear of a future repeat dictate our present, and I've been miserable without you.*
*I'm not writing this to ask you to take me back. I'm writing this to tell you I'm coming to see you. I'll be in Lisbon next Friday. I'll stay at the Hotel Real Palácio. If you want to see me, meet me in the lobby at 7 p.m. If you don't, I'll understand. I'll fly back the next morning.*
*But I have to know.*
*I have to know if the love I feel here is the same one you feel there.*
*-Camila*
She hit send before she could second-guess herself. The relief was immediate, a weight lifting from her shoulders she hadn't realized was there. She had no idea what Lívia's answer would be, but for the first time in months, she felt like she had some control over her own story.