“Get away from me. ”
The shout echoed through the elevator so sharply that Jenny stumbled backward, her elbow cracking against the mirrored wall. A man was pressed into the corner, gripping the handrail with white-knuckled fingers. He wore a perfect suit, his hair was flawless, and his face was a mask of pure panic that didn’t match any of it.
“I’m not even close to you,” Jenny said, still confused. “You touched me. ”
“I only touched your finger by accident when I picked up the paper that fell from your folder. That was all.
” She held the sheet up. “I was kind enough to pick it up, and this is how you thank me? ”
“I did not ask you to pick up anything. ”
“Oh, sorry.
Next time I’ll leave it on the floor and step on it. ”
He looked at her coldly. “Miss, you have no idea who you are talking to. ”
Jenny laughed out of pure disbelief.
“And you have no idea how ridiculous you are being right now. ”
Before he could answer, the elevator doors slid open. He walked out without looking back, fast, as if the hallway were an escape route. Jenny stood alone, her heart racing, the crumpled sheet in her hand.
She glanced down and read the header: Financial Report, Almeda Enterprises. In the corner, in small letters, Anthony Gabriel Almeda, CEO. Her stomach twisted. The crazy man from the elevator was the owner of the company where she had a job interview in six minutes.
“Oh my god. No, no, no. ”
She leaned her forehead against the elevator wall. She needed that job.
Her rent was overdue, her credit card was maxed out, and this was the only response she had gotten after weeks of sending out resumes. She took a deep breath and pressed the button for the interview floor. If she was going to be humiliated, at least she’d go in with her head held high. When she walked into the room, Anthony was already behind the desk, posture rigid, expression neutral, as if the elevator incident had happened on another planet.
But Jenny noticed one detail. His hands were hidden under the desk. “Miss Jenny Alves? ”
“Yes.
”
“Sit down. In that chair over there. ”
The chair he pointed to was ridiculously far away, almost five meters from the desk. She swallowed the urge to ask if he’d rather she sit in the parking lot and sat down.
“Did you read the special clauses in the contract? ”
“Yes, every line. ”
“Clause seven. Minimum distance of one meter in any situation.
Clause nine, no perfume or strong fragrances. Clause twelve. ”
Jenny looked straight at him. “Under no circumstance, in any situation, for any reason, touch you.
”
Something shifted in Anthony’s expression, too fast for her to read. It wasn’t coldness. It looked more like relief. “The last assistant lasted four days.
The one before that, two. The one before those didn’t even finish lunch on her first day. ”
“What did they do wrong? ”
“They thought the rules were suggestions.
”
“I don’t confuse rules with suggestions, especially when my rent depends on it,” Jenny said. He was quiet for a few seconds. Then he slid a badge across the desk to the edge nearest her. “Tomorrow, 7:00, at my house.
Do not be late. ”
Jenny picked up the badge and headed for the door. Her hand was already on the doorknob when his voice stopped her. “Ms.
Alves? ”
She paused but didn’t turn around. “I am not crazy. ”
Jenny stood still for a second, then opened the door and left without answering.
In the hallway, she leaned against the wall and exhaled. Because when clause twelve came up, she had seen something in his eyes that he was trying to hide behind all that icy armor. It was fear. Real, deep, completely desperate fear.
And Jenny already knew she wouldn’t be able to ignore that. The next morning, Jenny arrived at Anthony Gabriel Almeida’s mansion. It wasn’t a house. It was a living system designed to keep the world at a distance.
A beep sounded somewhere as soon as she stepped inside. “Proximity sensor,” said a voice behind her. Jenny turned. A thin man with glasses was watching her, clipboard in hand.
“I am Bento, Mr. Almeida’s butler. You must be the new assistant. ”
“Yes, my name is Jenny.
”
“Very well, Miss Jenny. Before anything else, I need to show you how this house works. ”
The tour lasted twenty minutes, and with each room, Jenny understood the scale of it all. The mansion was beautiful, but cold.
Every space was divided into invisible zones, lines on the floor that Bento pointed out as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “Mr. Almeida moves here. Only staff there.
Documents go through the transfer tray. Personal items never cross paths. All meetings happen through a screen. ”
Jenny listened without interrupting.
When Bento left her alone in the office that would be her workspace, she stood still for a moment, looking at the silver tray that sat between her side and Anthony’s. The first hours passed without surprises. Anthony worked silently on the other side of the office. The only sound was the clicking of keyboards.
He didn’t try to start a conversation, and she didn’t push it. But in the middle of the afternoon, while leaving a report on the transfer tray, Jenny placed a folded piece of paper beside it. Handwritten, unsigned. “Your 3:00 p.
m. coffee should be espresso, not drip. Drip is for people who have already given up on life. ”
Anthony read it and said nothing.
But in the days that followed, the notes kept appearing, always with that tone of someone poking danger just to see the reaction. Anthony never answered out loud, but Jenny noticed the small tells. An eyebrow lifting. A sigh a little longer than usual.
Their routine was forming that way, until Friday, when Bento appeared at the office door looking like he’d swallowed a lemon. “Mr. Almeida, the dinner with the investors. It’s today.
”
Anthony looked up. “I know it’s today. ”
“Are you sure you don’t want to cancel? I can call and say you have a migraine, or the flu, or chicken pox?
”
“Bento. ”
“Food poisoning is better? ”
“Bento, the dinner is happening. ”
Later, three investors and Richard Callaway, Anthony’s biggest rival in the tech industry, sat at the mansion’s dinner table.
The conversation flowed, numbers, projections, deals, everything under control. Jenny served as the logistical bridge, bringing documents, taking notes, keeping everything organized so no one needed to get up. Until dessert arrived. And Callaway raised his glass with a smile and proposed a toast.
“To the partnership,” he said, extending his free hand toward the center of the table. “Holding hands, like in the old days. ”
The other two investors laughed, and every eye turned to Anthony. He stayed frozen, as if someone had unplugged him.
Jenny saw the exact moment disaster was about to happen. “Richard, no,” she whispered, leaning toward him. “What? Did something happen?
”
“His hand. ” Jenny lowered her voice into a tone of shared secrecy, glancing around as if revealing a state secret. “Anthony got a tattoo yesterday, right on the palm of his right hand. It’s still sensitive.
”
Richard’s eyes widened as he looked between Anthony’s icy face and his closed hand. “A tattoo? Anthony? But what would he even get tattooed there?
”
“It’s something personal. Very personal. ” Jenny let out a dramatic sigh. “You know how it is.
A moment of impulse. He doesn’t like to talk about it. The tattoo artist was very clear. No physical contact for forty-eight hours, or the ink will smear and ruin the design.
And it cost a fortune, Richard. ”
Anthony was staring at Jenny with an expression that, if it could, would have turned her to ashes on the spot. “Oh, I understand completely,” Richard said, pulling his hand back as if he’d almost touched a wet masterpiece at the Louvre. “I apologize, Anthony.
I would never want to ruin your sentimental investment. The skin must be so sensitive, right? ”
“Sensitive doesn’t even begin to cover it. He’s being a warrior by not complaining about the burning,” Jenny added.
“Cheers, Richard,” she said, raising her glass with a calm smile. “To art and to intimate mysteries. ”
“To art and to intimate mysteries,” Richard repeated, completely convinced, casting curious glances at Anthony’s closed hand. The dinner continued in an atmosphere of suspense.
Richard spent the whole time tilting his head at impossible angles, trying to catch a glimpse of ink, while Anthony kept his right hand hidden as if it held the greatest secret in the world. When the guests left, Anthony looked at Jenny with cold sarcasm. “An intimate tattoo, Miss Alves? A sentimental investment?
”
“But it worked. Richard now thinks you’re a man of deep layers and burning secrets. ”
“Richard spent the whole night looking at me as if I had the name of a gang or a heart with something strange written on my palm. ”
“I don’t know, Mr.
Anthony, but from the way Richard looked at you during dessert, he’d probably bet on the name of a famous girlfriend or the company logo, if your loyalty has reached pathological levels. ”
Anthony stared at her, speechless. Her boldness was still something he didn’t know how to process. “Good night, Ms.
Alves. ”
“Good night, Mr. Anthony. Sleep well.
”
Jenny only waited for him to leave before letting her smile show for real. In the kitchen doorway, Bento watched everything. In eleven years working in that mansion, he had never seen Anthony stand there listening to anyone’s lies for that long, much less let her have the last word. A week went by.
The routine remained precise, almost mechanical, until one morning Anthony got up and walked to the transfer tray with a thick folder under his arm and an expression Jenny hadn’t seen before. He placed the folder on the tray. “Jenny, I need your help with a project that is not on the official schedule. ”
Jenny opened the folder.
Architectural plans, construction budgets, an entire care institute, with no mention of Almeda Enterprises anywhere. “Is it anonymous? ”
“Completely. ”
“Okay.
”
She closed the folder and started working without asking more questions. Anthony stood there as if waiting for some reaction. When none came, he went back to his desk in silence. Later, Anthony asked Jenny to organize the physical files for the project.
They were scattered in folders inside an old cabinet in the corner of the office. She spent most of the morning cataloging everything, opening drawer after drawer, until she reached the last one. Inside were project folders, as expected, but at the bottom, hidden under everything, there was something that wasn’t part of the project. It was a photograph torn in half.
The remaining half showed the crushed front of a car. In the lower corner of the image, a child’s hand. Attached to the photo with a paper clip was a hospital record dated twenty-three years earlier. Jenny looked at it for a moment, then put everything back exactly as it had been and returned to her desk as if nothing had happened.
She knew it wasn’t the time for questions, but she wasn’t going to forget what she’d seen. On Thursday, Anthony went to the land where the care institute would be built, and Jenny went with him, carrying the tablet and the plans. Suddenly, it started to rain. Anthony opened the umbrella by instinct, while Jenny stood still for a second looking up at the sky, as if it had done that on purpose.
Then she lowered her head and kept walking in the rain. That was when she felt a tug. Light, at the edge of her blouse, so gentle she almost didn’t notice. Two fingers holding the fabric with as little contact as possible, pulling her under the umbrella without a word.
They stood there, close. Anthony kept looking at the horizon with an interest that convinced no one. Jenny slowly lifted her face, and her eyes drifted to his mouth. Suddenly there was less space between them than there should have been.
The rain fell around the umbrella while they remained wrapped in silence. Anthony stepped back quickly, without explanation. “I’m sorry,” Jenny said automatically, before she even understood why she was apologizing. But he was already walking back to the car.
Back at the mansion, Anthony went straight upstairs without a word. Jenny went to the office to finish a report that couldn’t wait. She stayed there for almost an hour, just her and the sound of the rain. When the document was done, she started putting everything away to leave.
That was when she heard it. A scream from upstairs. Jenny stood still, waiting for another sound. Nothing.
Only silence. She went up the stairs. In the hallway there was a half-open door with a thin line of light underneath. She stopped outside without pushing it.
Through the crack, she could see enough. Anthony was lying on his side, his face tense even in sleep, as if rest was something his body tolerated but his mind refused. And in his hands, resting on the dark sheet, there was a pair of fine silk gloves. Jenny went downstairs in silence, picked up her bag, and walked out.
She got in the car but stayed still for a moment before starting the engine. The torn photo, the child’s hand, the hospital record, the gloves. Something had happened to Anthony twenty-three years ago, and she was beginning to understand that he had never gotten over it. The next day, the silence in the mansion seemed heavier, weighed down by the memory of the almost-kiss in the rain.
Anthony looked paler, dark circles under his eyes. “Are you okay? ” Jenny asked as she handed over a report. Anthony hesitated, looking at his hidden hands, then at her.
“Loneliness is a habit, Jenny. Sometimes the body forgets how to behave near another human being. I have never had relationships. There was never anyone.
”
Jenny paused, surprised by the confession from a cold man with so much power. “None? Not even a kiss, Anthony? ”
His name came out softly for the first time.
“Never. The world is a minefield for me. Every close moment is a threat of pain. ”
The moment was interrupted by the beep of the computer.
The trip to Milan had been moved up at the last minute. Anthony needed to appear at the event to reassure shareholders, but his formal suit still needed adjustments. He had dismissed the tailor earlier, and there was no one left to help. “Jenny, get me a tailor urgently.
And get ready. You’re coming with me to Milan today. ”
“But sir, so suddenly? It will be hard to find someone available right now.
”
“Just make it happen, or would you rather I go to Italy wearing clothes that look bigger than I am? ”
“Sir, I can try to fix it myself. I used to sew when I was a child. My grandmother taught me everything.
”
The next scene, inside that giant closet, was almost unbelievable. Jenny held long tweezers and metal hooks that looked more like surgical instruments. “Stand still,” she instructed, keeping her voice steady despite her nerves. “If I touch your skin, you fire me.
But if I don’t close these buttons, you’ll embarrass yourself in Italy. ”
With perfect precision, she used the tweezers to pull the shirt fabric and the hooks to fasten the mother-of-pearl buttons. The closeness was unbearable. She could feel the heat from his body, the woody scent mixed with the tension of the moment.
“Done, sir,” she said, stepping back. “It actually looks very elegant. ”
“You are good with these tools,” he said with a slight smile. “It’s a matter of survival, Anthony.
I learned early that to deal with demanding bosses, you need to know how to do a little of everything. ”
Hours later, Anthony and Jenny were in Milan. The ballroom at the Palazzo Reale was full of elegant people. Anthony walked stiffly, clearly uncomfortable, trying with all his strength not to touch anyone.
Jenny stayed right behind him, watching for any sign that he needed her. It was in that tense atmosphere that everything happened in the blink of an eye. A loud electrical crack echoed through the hall, and out of nowhere, the lights went out. The music stopped, the air conditioning shut off, and the silence lasted only one second before chaos began.
Unable to see anything, the crowd started pushing desperately. “Anthony, where are you? ” Jenny shouted, but her voice disappeared in the screaming. In the dark, people crashed into her hard.
Just ahead, she saw Anthony stumble. His panic was obvious. He was being touched by unknown hands, shoulders slamming into him. To anyone else it was just normal pushing in a crowd.
For Anthony, it was suffocating. He dropped to his knees and covered his head with his hands, trying to hide. Jenny didn’t think twice. She pushed through the crowd with her elbows, making a path until she reached him.
She stood with her back to Anthony and opened her arms, becoming a shield so no one else could touch him. “Breathe. Stay calm. No one is going to touch you.
It’s me, Jenny. ”
As soon as the security team cleared the ballroom, Jenny got Anthony out of there as fast as she could. When they entered the hotel suite, he threw himself onto the couch, completely exhausted. Sweat ran down his face, and he was breathing like he’d run for miles.
“Haphephobia,” he said with deep sadness. “That is the name of my prison. ”
Jenny sat on the floor at a safe distance, watching him fall apart. “Since I was seven years old.
The car accident. My mother. ” He closed his eyes. “I saw her hand.
I tried to hold it, but I froze. Touch became the same as despair. My brain understands any contact as a burn. It hurts, Jenny.
It really hurts. ”
Jenny felt her chest tighten and fought back tears. She understood now. Anthony’s luxury was only a padded prison.
The man in front of her wasn’t arrogant. He was wounded. When they returned from Milan, the atmosphere in the mansion had changed. Anthony seemed to have left part of his icy armor in Italy, and Jenny felt the barrier between them starting to give way.
Three days later, they were in the office. On top of the desk lay a pair of thick leather gloves, the kind motorcyclists wear. “Anthony, if the problem is what you feel when you touch someone, let’s try to trick your brain,” Jenny explained, calmly putting on the left glove. Anthony hesitated, then picked up the right glove and put it on.
He was visibly tense. Jenny noticed the fear there, almost childlike, but also a courage she had never seen in him before. Jenny carefully held out her hand. When her gloved hand touched his, Anthony squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, preparing for pain.
But he didn’t pull away. He squeezed her hand back tightly. “It doesn’t hurt,” he said softly, his voice unsteady. “Jenny, I feel the pressure, but that burning… it’s not there anymore.
”
They stayed like that for a while, just holding each other’s hand. For the first time in years, it didn’t seem impossible. What neither of them knew was that up on the ceiling, hidden in a corner, a tiny camera was recording everything. The next morning, Anthony’s brother, Marcus, walked into the office without knocking.
He wasn’t alone. He came in with two lawyers and a cynical smile that made Jenny’s stomach turn. “The little show is over, Anthony,” Marcus said, throwing a tablet onto the desk. The images showed the two of them in the office.
From the camera angle, without sound, the scene looked strange. Anthony seemed fragile, out of control, while Jenny held his hand in a way that looked manipulative. “You are a sick man, and this woman is nothing but an opportunist,” Marcus continued. “I have already gone to court to have you declared incompetent.
You are in no condition to take care of the Almeida family assets if you can’t even shake an employee’s hand without getting sick. ”
Jenny tried to speak, but Marcus cut her off, signaling toward the door. Two police officers walked in with official papers. “Jenny Silva?
” the officer asked. “We have a court order. You must leave now and stay five hundred meters away from Mr. Anthony.
If you attempt contact, you will be arrested for abuse of an incapacitated person. ”
The shock was so great that Jenny lost her voice. She looked at Anthony, waiting for him to react, to shout, to make his power count. But he was frozen, his eyes fixed on the screen, reliving the trauma of being exposed that way.
“Anthony, react! Say something! ” Jenny begged, while an officer grabbed her arm. “Get out of my brother’s house!
” Marcus shouted. Jenny was taken to the gate under the cold stares of the security guards. She spent the next two days locked inside her apartment, glued to the news. Anthony’s name was in every newspaper.
Marcus had taken control of everything, spreading the story that his brother was under medical care. On the third day, Bento knocked on her door. He looked like he’d aged ten years in three days. “He is not eating anything, Miss Jenny.
He is locked in his room in the dark. Marcus fired half the staff and brought in new security. He is going to destroy the boss. ”
“But I can’t go near him, Bento.
The police will arrest me. ”
“Marcus lied to everyone,” Bento said, handing her an old folder. “I went through the files he tried to burn. On the day of the accident, Marcus was in the car too, but no one ever knew.
He was older. He knew the brakes were bad, and he didn’t warn his father. He fed Anthony’s guilt all these years just to keep him destroyed. ”
The hatred Jenny felt turned into strength.
She grabbed the tablet and opened the mansion’s floor plan. “Did Marcus turn on the alarms? ”
“All of them. If a cat walks through the garden, the police station will know.
”
“Then we’re going to need a plan to distract them. ”
That night, Jenny returned to the mansion. Bento turned off the outside lights for only ten seconds, just enough time for her to jump over the side wall. As soon as she stepped into the garden, the system glitched and started rebooting.
Red sensor lights swept across the garden. She hid behind a statue when a guard passed nearby. Her heart was pounding. She was no longer the assistant.
She was an intruder. When she reached the back door, the alarm went off, echoing through the whole neighborhood. “Damn it! ” she shouted, forcing the door Bento had left slightly open.
Jenny rushed into the hallway. She could hear the guards coming right behind her, but she didn’t stop. She ran up the stairs, out of breath. Her body begged her to stop, but she ignored it.
She had to reach Anthony’s room before the police arrived. When she reached the bedroom door, she didn’t think twice. She kicked it with all her strength, and it flew open. Inside, the air was heavy and dark.
Anthony was curled up on the floor in a corner, knees pressed to his chest. He looked like he could neither see nor hear anything, lost in a state of shock. “Anthony, it’s me. Wake up.
We need to get out now! ” she shouted, running toward him. Before he could react, Marcus appeared at the door. Bento tried to hold him back, but Marcus shoved Bento against a table.
As he fell, Bento knocked over an old lamp, which short-circuited immediately. Sparks flew onto the curtains, and within seconds, fire climbed up the fabric. Smoke filled everything. “Look what you did!
” Marcus shouted, terrified. A coward, he turned and ran, leaving everyone behind. The fire rose fast. Black smoke spread through the room.
Jenny tried to reach Anthony, but before she could, the wardrobe fell right in front of her, completely blocking her way. “Anthony! ” she shouted, already coughing. “I’m trapped.
Help me, please. ”
It was her scream that brought him back. He looked at the flames and saw the fear on the face of the only person who truly cared about him. Sweat ran down his forehead, but his body wouldn’t respond.
In his mind, touching someone still meant pain. He looked at his own shaking hands. If he touched her, he knew what would come. If he didn’t, she wouldn’t get out of there.
Anthony took a deep breath and moved. He stepped into the smoke. No gloves, nothing to protect himself. He grabbed Jenny’s arm with all his strength, closed his eyes, and waited for the shock of pain.
It didn’t come. There was only the warmth of her skin and the urgency to get her out. Without letting go, he forced the wardrobe open, just enough space to free her. Then he pulled her close, held her in his arms, and crossed the burning hallway until he reached the service stairs Bento had kept open.
Hours later at the hospital, the silence was broken only by the beeping of machines. Anthony sat on the edge of the bed, eyes fixed on his own hands, still unable to believe it. No blisters. No marks.
And most importantly, none of that pain that had followed him all his life. Jenny was in the bed beside him, safe. “It didn’t hurt, Jenny. ” His voice broke.
“For the first time in my life, touch didn’t bring suffering. It brought peace. When I held you, it felt like I was protecting my whole world in my arms. ”
At that moment, the doctor walked in, looked at the test results, and gave the news.
“Mr. Anthony, based on our tests and what happened, you are cured of haphephobia. ”
Anthony froze. “What do you mean, cured?
I touched her. I held her arm with all my strength in the middle of that fire, and I didn’t feel anything. No burning, no pain at all. ”
The doctor smiled slightly.
“It was the surge of adrenaline and the strong emotion of saving her life. Your brain gave priority to survival and ended up resetting the trauma. ”
Anthony’s joy was so great he could barely stand still. He saw Bento walk in and, on impulse, pulled the butler by the arm into the hallway, away from Jenny’s ears.
“Bento, did you hear that? ” he said, almost out of breath. “That means I can kiss now, Bento. I can finally kiss Jenny.
”
In the very next second, his smile disappeared, replaced by pure panic. “But now what? How do I do it, Bento? I’m thirty years old and I don’t know how to kiss.
I’ve never touched my mouth to anyone. I’m going to look like a fool. ”
Bento, with the calm of someone who had already seen everything in life, placed a hand on his employer’s shoulder. He picked up a grape and a plum from the basket he had brought.
“Easy, Mr. Anthony. Breathe. Kissing is like a contract.
You don’t sign it without reading the fine print first. ”
“Fine print? ” Anthony wiped sweat from his forehead. “Imagine this plum is your lips, and the grape is hers.
You bring your lips close to hers very slowly, like testing whether an expensive coffee is too hot. If you rush in too hard, it looks like you’re trying to bite the poor girl. No rushing. ”
“Expensive coffee.
I understand. And the rest? ”
“The tongue is like seasoning, boss. Use it wisely, like someone getting the salt right in a risotto.
Too much, and you ruin the dish. None at all, and it’s bland. ”
Anthony stood there, staring at the grape and the plum, memorizing every detail. The fire had taken his house, but now he had something far more valuable: the chance to learn how to love like everyone else.
Anthony was discharged from the hospital with the press present, but the mansion was not at peace. Marcus was being investigated, and the company’s board was already trying to protect its own interests. As soon as Anthony stepped into the living room, he came face-to-face with Helena, the daughter of one of the biggest shareholders. “It’s good to see that you finally got past this problem, Anthony,” she said, stepping closer with a confident smile.
Before he could react, she hugged him. Jenny, coming right behind with the tablet, stopped at once. Anthony went stiff for a moment, but he didn’t pull Helena away immediately. That was enough.
It hurt Jenny. Now he could touch anyone. He didn’t need her anymore. She took a deep breath, turned, and walked out through the back door.
She left her badge on Bento’s table and went away. Inside, Anthony finally pulled Helena away. “What do you think you’re doing? ”
“What needs to be done.
My father and the board think a marriage between us will bring security to the company. We need to show stability. ”
Anthony let out a short laugh. “You are talking about marriage as if it were business.
Helena, that is not going to happen. ”
Without waiting for a response, he turned and went straight to the office. But there he found only Jenny’s badge. A tightness seized his chest.
“Bento, where is she? ”
“She left through the back, sir. She looked very shaken. ”
Anthony grabbed the keys and drove fast to Jenny’s apartment.
He knocked. Nothing. He knocked again. A neighbor opened her door a crack.
“She’s not there anymore. She left a little while ago with two suitcases. It looked like she was traveling. ”
“Where to?
”
“She didn’t say, but I heard something about the airport with the taxi. ”
Anthony drove straight to the airport, parked carelessly, and ran inside. He searched everywhere until he saw her, near the boarding gate. “Jenny, wait!
” he shouted. She stopped and slowly turned around. Her eyes were red. “What are you doing here, Anthony?
Go be with Helena. That’s what you need now. ”
“Are you serious? I don’t want Helena.
I don’t want anyone but you. ”
“I saw you hugging,” Jenny said. “Now you can touch anyone. Why would you stay with me?
”
Anthony stepped closer. “Because you stayed when no one else did. ” His voice softened. “I feel nothing when Helena hugs me.
But I feel everything when I look at you. My world only makes sense if you are in it. ”
Jenny fell silent. Anthony didn’t wait any longer.
He pulled her by the waist and kissed her. Jenny dropped her carry-on bag and kissed him back, holding his face. Anthony tried to remember what Bento had said but forgot everything. He only did what he felt.
And for the first time, he wasn’t afraid. “You were going to leave without telling me anything? ” he whispered against her lips. “I thought I meant nothing to you.
”
“You mean everything to me, Jenny. ”
Days later, Anthony called the press. In the crowded room, he told the truth about Marcus and announced he would fund hospitals and research into conditions like the one he had suffered. He wanted other people to have the same chance to be cured.
Months later, Anthony and Jenny walked along a deserted beach. He wore no shoes, no gloves, no suit. He held Jenny’s hand tightly, feeling every detail of her skin. “No gloves today?
” she teased. “Never again. ”
They walked slowly, enjoying every second of contact. Love had overcome the barrier of touch.
And they stayed together, wrapped in the love they felt for each other. Many times, the healing we seek isn’t found in medicine, but in the care of the person who stays by our side when the world falls apart.
