LOVE IN EVERY WORD

CHAPTER 3

Friday arrived quicker than Andressa had anticipated, the days blurring into a whirlwind of deadlines and distractions. Before she knew it, her plane had touched down in Bahia, and now her taxi pulled up to the manicured front lawn of her family home. The warm, salty breeze from the nearby coast carried the faint scent of blooming jacaranda, stirring memories of childhood summers. She paid the driver with a handful of crumpled bills and stepped out, the gravel crunching under her heels as she headed up the path.

“Mummy, I’m home!” she called out, her voice echoing slightly in the foyer as she crossed the threshold. The familiar aroma of polished wood and fresh flowers enveloped her, a comforting embrace from the past.

Her mum rushed from the depths of the house, her face lighting up with unbridled joy. The door swung open wide, and she pulled Andressa into a tight hug, the soft fabric of her floral blouse brushing against Andressa’s cheek. “Oh, baby, I’ve missed you so much. I’m so happy you’re finally here. We’ve all missed you.” She helped with the bags, her hands warm and steady.

“I missed you too, Mummy. I’m glad to be back, but right now, I’m tired and starving. What’s for dinner?” Andressa stepped into the living room, her eyes scanning the space. Everything remained much as she’d left it years ago—the worn leather sofa, the family photos on the mantel—but with a few new touches: a vibrant woven rug, a cluster of seashell ornaments glinting in the late afternoon light.

“I made your favorite, darling. Just drop your bags in your room and take a shower—I tidied up a bit, so you’ll be comfy. Then come down for dinner. I’ve missed you so much, my Sofie. Hurry so we can catch up.”

“I’ll do just that. I’ve honestly missed your cooking.” Andressa bounded up the stairs, the wooden steps creaking familiarly under her feet, bags thumping against her side. Home. Finally, a break from the chaos.

By the time she descended, fresh from the shower with damp hair trailing cool droplets down her back, the kitchen was alive with the sizzle of spices and the rich, savory scent of feijoada wafting through the air. The table was set with mismatched plates that held a thousand memories, steam rising from the bowls.

“Hmm, it smells incredible in here. I’m going to enjoy this.” Andressa slid into her seat, the chair’s cushion yielding softly.

“So, how’s São Paulo? Work? Business? I’m hoping you didn’t bring any work here—I plan to hog you before you leave Sunday. Though tomorrow will be hectic with the wedding.”

“Everything’s fine, and hopefully no work interruptions. I’ll be all yours.”

“Hopefully? You’re not even certain. But I’ll take what I get. No work.”

“How about you? Business? How’s Bahia been?”

“Business is good—new supplies, new customers, the works. I haven’t been to the shop much with all the wedding prep. We’ve been running around since Wednesday. Your cousin Camilla is stressed out. I pity the girl, honestly.”

“Well, thank God it’s just the Candomblé ceremony. But I’m sure it’s as stressful as a white wedding. After it’s over, she’ll be too happy to remember the chaos.”

“Absolutely. Tomorrow will be the happiest day of her life. Anyway, let’s finish dinner, then you should sleep. It’s going to be hectic for all of us.”

They ate in companionable silence after that, the clink of forks against plates the only sound. Andressa’s mum shooed her off to bed while she loaded the dishwasher, the hum of the machine a soothing backdrop.

“Good night, Mommy. I’m glad to be home,” Andressa called from the stairs, not waiting for a reply as she climbed to her room. The bed welcomed her like an old friend, sheets crisp and cool. Tomorrow’s a big day. Rest now.

The next day unfolded as hectically as predicted. By morning, Andressa and her mum were at the venue, the air buzzing with the chatter of relatives and the sharp scent of fresh-cut flowers. They helped her aunt—Camilla’s mother—with final touches, though the professional planners had already transformed the space into a vibrant haven.

Her cousin had chosen an open-air ceremony in a lush garden attached to the resort where they’d all retreat later. Palm fronds rustled in the gentle breeze, and colorful banners fluttered overhead, accommodating what could easily swell to 200 or even 500 guests. Camilla, ever the social butterfly, had invited half of Bahia, it seemed. Who knows how many will show?

A few hours later, the ceremony began. The bride and groom stood at the altar, adorned in traditional attire, as the Candomblé rites unfolded. Drums throbbed rhythmically, their deep beats vibrating through the ground, while incense smoke curled lazily into the sky, carrying notes of sandalwood and herbs. Families and guests sat on woven mats and chairs, the sun filtering through leaves to dapple the scene in golden light.

Camilla was always beautiful, but today she radiated like the sun itself. The stress of planning had melted away, leaving her face alight with a wide, joyful smile as she faced her husband-to-be.

By noon, the festivities were in full swing. Platters of acarajé and moqueca circulated, their spicy aromas mingling with the laughter and thumping Afro-Brazilian music. Guests danced under the canopy of trees, hips swaying to the infectious rhythm, while others mingled, offering congratulations and gifts wrapped in bright paper.

But Andressa, perched at a table on the garden’s fringe—away from the central cluster—needed a moment to breathe. The constant introductions and reintroductions had worn her thin, the press of perfumed hugs and booming voices overwhelming. I need to get out of here.

Her chance came when her mum was whisked away by old friends. Andressa slipped to a quieter corner, the grass soft under her sandals. Few people lingered here, and a solitary bench offered respite—a win. She sank onto it, the wood warm from the sun, and let the distant music fade into a soothing hum.

After what felt like an eternity of solitude, footsteps approached on the gravel path. Camilla plopped down beside her, her white dress whispering against the bench, a faint floral perfume trailing her.

“Why are you sitting here all by yourself, cousin of mine? Hmm?”

“Nothing, Cami. I just needed to escape the crowd.” Andressa leaned back, the breeze cooling her flushed skin.

With a sigh, her cousin replied, “Tell me about it. It’s my special day, but I’m overwhelmed by the sheer number. As soon as I get home, I’m soaking in a tub, lighting those candles you gifted me.” She laughed softly, the sound light and tired.

“You deserve it, babygirl—” Andressa started, but her words trailed off as her gaze snagged on a handsome man strolling a few feet away, another man at his side. He moved with effortless grace, his dark hair catching the sunlight, shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal toned forearms. Who is that?

Camilla followed her stare and chuckled. “You’re staring, Essa. Your jaw’s practically on the floor.”

Snapping out of it, Andressa replied, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just… looking. Admittedly, he’s very handsome.”

“Handsome, no doubt—and most likely not your type, cousin of mine,” Camilla teased, nudging her playfully.

“I never said I was pursuing anything, Madam, so drop it.” Andressa’s voice held a smile, her lips curving despite herself. Yet even as she spoke, her eyes lingered on him. And then—surprisingly—he glanced back, his gaze locking with hers, a small smile playing on his lips. Is he… smiling at me?