My daughter's XXL physical therapist

Chapter 02

Urso

I'm not a friendly guy, and over the years, that has only gotten worse.

I'm not a good person. Only two people in the world get the best of me: my daughter and my mother. No one else. When I took an interest in someone, when I offered her the best of everything, the only thing I held back was my heart, my love. Even so, she won me over. She made herself essential, made herself present. We experienced so many wonderful things; I was falling in love, giving myself to her, and in the end, it all seemed to be nothing but a game where both me and our family were disposable to her.

The day my daughter was born, I was terrified. I had never felt so much fear as I did that day; it was terrible, simply devastating. I had never felt so much panic as when we found out she had a congenital heart defect and needed urgent surgery, being so tiny.

Sophia wasn't planned. But from the moment I found out her mother was pregnant, I stepped up.

We were dating at the time, and I didn't love her when we started. But I found myself falling in love over time. I liked what we had, I liked the adventure with her. I liked our chemistry, how we understood each other, and it naturally turned into a relationship. I did right by her, and she knew that. I never messed around on her. From the moment I committed to her, I was all in.

But the day she came to me and said we were having a baby, I felt reborn right then and there. I didn't expect that just growing in her belly, Sophia would already change me so much. I never let my woman go without, spoiled the hell out of her, rearranged the whole house for the two of us. I was ecstatic. I felt so fulfilled; it had always been my dream to be a father. And I had more than that, or so I thought...

Five days after Sophia's surgery, our daughter was still admitted in the hospital under observation. I had come back to the favela because the police were trying to pacify it, and I stayed here for two days straight. It was the longest I had been away from Sophia, and I was in contact with her mother the whole time, especially since she had just given birth. With our daughter in that situation, it wasn't easy for anyone. I was incredibly worried, tense, terrified of the whole situation, and still dealing with hell here in the favela.

Until she disappeared, and I freaked out. I completely lost it. I left the favela in a hurry, even with the cops still here, panicking and thinking something had happened to my daughter. The hospital had called me, asking for a guardian to come in, and I didn't understand what was going on. My head was spinning. But when I got there...

She was gone.

She abandoned my daughter, left her all alone after a surgery, while I was killing myself to secure my favela, our home, our livelihood.

I called, I sent messages, I was furious. I went crazy. And you know what I found?

Wrapped in Sophia's blanket... a note.

I won't be able to raise this sick girl. I am full of life, I have so much left to live, people to meet, opportunities... I don't want to take care of this sick child. Don't look for me, you won't find me, and even if you do, it will never change my mind. It's over. Good luck with the girl.

I was even more outraged by that, and that day, I swore I would be the absolute best for Sophia. I would be a damn good father, and whatever she needed, I would be there.

Of course, I couldn't handle it all alone, so I needed—and still need—my mother.

These past four years have been incredibly challenging. When she was a baby, Sophia also suffered from reflux. I couldn't sleep; I could never find a moment of peace. Every day was a new situation, a doctor's visit, a rush to the ER, and I was there. Me and my mother, standing strong for her.

I'm protective of her in a way that I confess is sometimes borderline obsessive. I'm terrified that something will happen to my daughter. Even my mother judges me for it, because I never think the professionals are qualified enough to take care of Sophia...

Which ends up being torture for my mother too, but I don't care. If I see one little thing wrong, I fire them. If I see my daughter isn't developing, I fire them. If they miss a single day, I fire them. If I hire a service, I demand responsibility and priority. We're talking about my daughter here.

I don't talk about it, but I suffered a lot. Imagine me, twenty-five years old, boss of the favela, with a mountain of responsibility on my back, seeing my life turn upside down like that, out of nowhere, with no explanation.

My daughter's illness, having to raise her, give her attention—because I'm damn present in her life—going to doctors, speech therapists, everything. And on top of that, watching the woman I loved disappear... abandoning the family we talked about and made plans for every night lying in bed. In our room full of her clothes, full of her things, our daughter's nursery that we painted together... it was brutal facing all of that, seriously. It was like I was drowning and had to gasp for air just to make it back to the surface... and I did!

Today, I'm a badass—respected, renowned, highly regarded. My favela is strong as f**k, and unfortunately, very envied. But I hide a lot of heavy hitters here, guys who need a safe haven to let the dust settle on their image. All of that comes with a fee; everything here has a price. And I think very carefully before making any move, because I have to think about Sophia living in the middle of this favela before anything else. Her safety and my old lady's are my top priorities.

Hey, where's the physical therapist? I ask my mother as soon as I get home.

She didn't show up again. Said her feet hurt this time. Look, honestly, these people just don't want to work. I don't know what else to do, she says, frustrated, as she does some exercises with Sophia.

What about that company you mentioned? Hire someone from there, offer more money, I don't know... because this isn't working, Mom, I say, annoyed, picking up my daughter, who immediately grabs at my gold chains.

I'll call the home care agency right now and ask them to recommend someone as soon as possible, she says, getting up from the rug in Sophia's room and already dialing her phone.

I stay there playing with my baby, and my mind drifts to that woman...

Damn, she's so serious, so unyielding. Her gaze pierces right through your soul...

The way she pulled up to the diner in that nice-ass car. A modern Golf GTI—no joke. White, flashy as hell, grabbing everyone's attention, just like her...

She treated it like a real conquest, and you could see the hard work behind it, the way she glowed when her mother hugged her...

I checked out the whole car. It even had a custom exhaust. A really beautiful ride...

My dream is for her to give me just a sliver of an opening... but today was the first time she really looked at me. Normally, she just walks right past, doesn't give a s**t about me, and it's frustrating as hell.

Everyone messes with her, talks about her weight, her body, but I notice they all follow her, like her photos, and all that shit... those guys are all a bunch of d***s. Makes me want to smash every single one of their phones so they stop looking at her.

What a smile... The image of her smiling when she got out of that car is burned into my brain. Damn... this woman messes with my head.

Every time she walks past me, my heart races...

I know I'm a player who runs wild, but if there's one woman who shakes me to my core, it's her... fuck...

Did you get someone, Mom? I ask, shaking my head to try and get her out of my mind.

Because it's no use. She doesn't give me an opening, she doesn't smile at me, never even speaks to me directly. It's hard to approach a woman like that.

I almost lose my s**t at the bailes when she shows up... The way she moves is beautiful, it drives me crazy. And she stays entirely in her own world, full of attitude, confident as hell, not giving a damn about anyone's jokes or anything else. Damn...

I got someone, boy. I'm talking to you, my mother says, snapping her fingers in front of my face.

Oh, yeah? What did they say? I pull my attention back to her.

They're going to send me some resumes, and by tomorrow morning, we'll have someone here, she says, and I launch into the same speech as always.

Be careful, pay attention, don't leave her side, monitor everything, record it for me to see in case I have to be away dealing with favela business. I have strict rules when it comes to Sophia, and if they aren't followed, I lose my temper real quick.

I stayed there with my daughter, handling business on my phone. The b***h I was with at lunch was already annoying me. Tripping, trying to act tough with the workers. Nobody acts tough with me. If she doesn't wise up fast, I'll smack her on the ear so she learns her place.

Once again, that woman invades my mind. The way she stood up to defend her mother, her eyes locked on my table, her scent... f**k, I'm going to lose my mind soon if this keeps up.

Sophia fell asleep and I left the house. I just told my mother I was heading out and disappeared. I needed to blow off some steam with someone, or I was going to bash my head against a wall, because this woman just won't stop invading my thoughts.