Relief
Helena had dreamed of freedom for as long as she could remember. She grew up under her mother's watchful eyes, whose duty it was to keep the girl with big blue eyes and hair as black as night, pure and virginal, so she could make a marriage advantageous to her father's illicit business. In the mafia, marriages are sealed in blood, and a marriage only ends when one of the spouses dies, and almost always it is the wife's life that ends mysteriously.
When she was old enough to understand the fate that awaited her, she often dreamed of escaping to a distant place where she could choose her own destiny, but deep down Helena knew that if she ever ran away, her father would hunt her down and make her crawl back home. In business, he was a puppet for his superiors and allies, but at home, he was feared by all; the beatings and food restrictions ensured his obedience. So, when she was given in marriage to Otávio Garcia, Helena accepted it as one accepts that death is inevitable; she had no choice, so she preferred to dream of a respectable life within the social norms of the society to which she and Otávio belonged. Otávio was young, handsome, and even sent her flowers; sometimes she found herself smiling, remembering him. She quickly befriended her future sister-in-law Ella, though the girl spent most of her time confined in a convent.
But the illusion of happiness was short-lived, precisely until the wedding night, when Otávio's gallantry gave way to punches, extreme violence, and the young charmer became a masochist. For a 16-year-old girl who had never even kissed a man, the wedding night turned her into a shadow of what she was; not even her father's beatings had been able to subdue her in such a way, but what Otávio did had the power to make her fear any other man.
After the honeymoon, she was under the illusion that her husband would leave her in peace; he had already taken her virginity, but Otávio pursued her at any time of the day, even living in her father-in-law's house, he found a way to drag her to their room. Over time, she learned not to scream when it happened; at least she needed to keep her pride. She lived with bruised lips and eyes, her body also covered in bruises. There was always an excuse to beat her, the bed not being well-made, the lingering look of one of the guards on her, or sometimes she tried to stop him from touching her, but it was in vain; after subduing her, she was forced to do everything he wanted. Every night in the same room with him made her wish for death. So when she received the news that Otávio was dead, she felt such overwhelming relief that she cried for hours, wishing he had died sooner; three years in that hell had felt like three decades. Now she could at least sleep in peace; she had the key to Ella's room, and from that day on, she would sleep there; she didn't want to look at the bed where she had often been r***d and beaten until she was purple. But now Otávio could not reach her, and she could finally try to return to who she was before him. Her father had promised her that he would not marry her off again; he was a rogue, but he did keep his promises.
