The relationship had been great since the beginning. I stayed attentive whenever Joao was home, the kind of girlfriend who remembered how he liked his coffee and waited up even on late nights. My nympho side was a fun surprise for him. I reached for him often, sometimes twice in one evening, and still felt unsatisfied when he finally slowed. He managed. I never pushed past what he could give, at least not out loud.

A year ago the new job arrived with the higher salary we had been hoping for. I smiled when he told me, then went quiet for a long moment in the kitchen. Later that night I asked how often he would travel. He answered carefully.

Joao: “It’ll be more than before. A few days most months, sometimes a full week. We’ll figure it out.”

I nodded and spent the rest of the evening pressed against him without speaking much. The following weeks we tried. Video calls every evening he was gone, short texts throughout the day, and, when the trips stretched past five days, the occasional late-night photo or voice note that left him eager to get back home. When he finally walked through the door I would already be waiting, arms around his neck before the suitcase hit the floor. The sex that followed lasted until both of us were too sore to continue. It was enough to keep the distance from turning into resentment. Barely.

Two days ago Evandro mentioned that money was tight and he needed somewhere to stay for the weekend before the next company trip. Joao had worked with him for several months. He was reliable, kept to himself in the office, and never caused problems. Joao offered the guest room. I was in the kitchen when he told me. I paused with my hands in the sink, then nodded once. I did not ask questions.

This morning Evandro arrived. He carried a small bag and stood in the doorway. I opened the door and stepped aside, pointing toward the guest room.

Evandro: “Thanks. Appreciate you both letting me stay.”

I offered coffee with a small gesture toward the kitchen. He followed a few steps behind and set the bag down near the hallway. The silence stretched while I reached for a second mug.

Evandro: “The trip starts Monday, right? Early flight. Figured this was easier than a hotel for two nights.”

I nodded and poured the coffee, sliding the mug across the counter. Our fingers didn’t touch. He took it with a small nod.

Evandro: “Joao still packing?”

I stayed on my side of the counter, hands resting on the edge. He drank without rushing. Neither of us filled the quiet.

Joao was still packing when his phone rang. The meeting that had been scheduled for Monday had been moved. They needed him on the next flight out. He ended the call and looked at me. I was standing near the hallway with my hands loosely clasped in front of me.

Joao: “I have to leave now. They moved everything up. I’ll call and text as much as I can, okay?”

I listened while he zipped the carry-on. When he finished I nodded again.

Joao: “You’ll be fine here with Evandro. Just keep things normal. I’ll message when I land.”

I walked him to the door. At the threshold I hesitated, then rose onto my toes and kissed him. My hands stayed on his chest for a moment.

Joao: “Be safe. Love you.”

The door closed behind him. Inside the apartment the only sound was the refrigerator and the faint movement of Evandro shifting something in the guest room. I remained where I was, then turned and walked toward the kitchen to finish the coffee I had started.