request? I thought the role of parents was to show wisdom and my father comes with one of those? See me married before I die to make sure his marriage to my mother didn't mess me up? Holy shit. I'm not messy. I'm a good son, he said it himself. And please, man, I'm 25 years old. Who gets married at 25? This is the beginning of life. But it was his last request, Tina said when I told her what my father really wanted. Maybe he won't have time to ask you for anything else. I really hope not. Pretend you're married, honey. Take some photos with a model, bring them to him to see.

Show that you care about his last wish in life. My gasp wasn't just disappointment, it was also impatience. What model would feel good collaborating with me to deceive a dying man in his final moments of life? I don't think any. No one is that cruel, even professionally. But here I am, in my office, surfing the internet trying to find someone who can cooperate with this because there's no way I'm calling any woman I know. They would confuse the whole damn thing. They would think it was indirect, that I wanted to ask them to marry me and I made a "joke". I don't understand women's minds, no one does, not even them; but I can bet that it would happen. So, when I've been browsing for too long searching, my cell phone beeps with a notification. I take it to see, opening the messages from my friend Samuel. He swears at me in greeting and asks if I forgot that today is the day for him to choose his wedding suit. Yeah, I actually forgot. I leave the notebook with my search aside and get up to go find my very passionate friend, who sends a photo with our other friends, all giving me the middle finger. I smile. Two of us have already gotten screwed in this wave of love; my turn I pass with flying colors. I prefer to pretend. It's better to deceive my father with a false bride than to see myself trapped forever, forever, by someone's side. I'm out. Chapter 1 Victoria 10:42h Where are you? 10:51am I saw that you are online. Answer me at 11:03 am You won't answer me, right? I'll go there then 11:04h I'll find your new address and you'll see me 11:04h whether you want it or not 11:05h you do the shit and you want to disappear ______________________________________ My eyes wander over the messages sent earlier and I take a deep breath many times – so many times when possible in an attempt to calm down. He couldn't find it, could he? He's not even from the police! Only authorized personnel can collect addresses, right? Of course you do, Victoria. Stop worrying. I get up from the sofa and go to the window, pulling the curtain a little and watching the activity on the street. I don't think he'll find me here, in a place so full of people. And I'm no longer recognizable. Now I have brown hair, not black. Apparently, I'm thinner too, as I'm having to buy new clothes in smaller sizes. The cause of this? Probably the days I spent eating soup to save money for the rent on the new house: in another neighborhood, far away from it, trying to feel free again. And I also got two tattoos. On the left thigh and another on the right shoulder. I'm no longer the Victoria I was months ago. Months in which I was still close to him, in that relationship that suddenly became suffocating. I suffocate. And that's all we had, that's what I realized later. When I met Jacob that rainy morning at a bus stop before going to work and he offered me company under his umbrella, I could not have imagined that this man would later be so inconvenient, with distorted ideas. I thought about refusing the offer to be with him escaping the rain, after all, he was an unknown man at a bus stop. There was only him. And me. I also tried to take into account that he looked strange. I don't know if it was his appearance, his look, the combination of the two with emphasis on that cap he was wearing and which made a statement together with the large and apparently heavy jacket that covered his body. But, at first, he didn't give an impression of comfort being around him. Then I remembered that my mother was the one who used to judge people by their appearance and I ignored that – my instincts. I went under his umbrella and we started talking. Jacob didn't seem very friendly at first. He told me to be careful when I stepped on his sneakers, to stay still so he didn't get too wet and to stop rubbing his arm too much, which bothered him. That was very uncomfortable and I made any excuse, going to the other spot where there was a seat, to get away from him. Then he grabbed my arm, smiled and apologized. He said he was having a bad day and offered me his umbrella so I could be alone – which I didn't accept, of course. But I accepted his apology, which was my biggest mistake. I should have run away, but since I don't have a crystal ball, I really thought it was the result of a bad day on his part. We started talking calmly and, carried away by the moment, I ended up giving him my number when he asked me. He said he had recently moved and friends of his had stayed behind. That's what life as an adult means, renouncing yourself, he explained. Real friends don't take the time to see each other, I should have paid attention to that. But I didn't. I gave my number and we started chatting on WhatsApp. Because of my work, a photographer for PEARL, a famous and acclaimed magazine, it took me a while to say yes to his invitations for dates. Until it finally happened. On a Friday night, when I just wanted to relax, we went to a bar. We talked, laughed, drank, danced and kissed. And then came another date and another, several more until I was asked to be his girlfriend. It was more of a normal relationship until the third month, when Jacob started wanting to know who was texting me, asking to see my cell phone, asking when I was going to give him a copy of my house key, also insisting on knowing if I didn't. I trusted him, and that question always scared me, because I didn't trust him like I thought. And whenever I refused any of these things or hesitated too much, he became irate. He once pulled the cell phone out of my hand so hard that it hurt. And since that day, I had to hide my applications and avoid talking about very personal topics on WPP. When I realized, I was already feeling trapped, almost hanging in the will of a man I didn't love and who gave me nothing but fear. I said I wanted to finish, he accepted. All at peace, were his words