Gabriel estava agora encapsulado na prisão do ciúme. Quando a força lhe voltou às pernas, conseguiu imaginar o seu futuro amoroso: solitário, amargurado, perdido para sempre. No seu habitual jeito desajeitado, Gabriel dirigiu-se para a pista de dança e enfrentou o seu temor. Dançou toda a noite e submeteu-se à infelicidade feliz da sua vida muda. Do outro lado da pista, Mimi espreitava. Bastou uma piscadela de olho e o coração de Gabriel regenerou e a voz voltou: “Olá, Mimi!” Just as he was about to address the assembled guests, he lost his voice . But it was not an absence that was noticeable to the audience. It was a loss of his inner voice. I think you could even say that his innate nature finally expressed itself: you will never speak freely again. Gabriel panicked. He was sweating profusely, almost to the point where we could have put fish in his sweat and they would have survived! His legs trembled, his heart raced, and when he opened his mouth, he said: “I am very happy to be here today, witnessing the marriage of my great friends, Joaquim and Lili! I wish that this love will last forever, and that I can witness your happiness, always by your side!” What a lie, Gabriel! He had always desired Lili, dreamed of this wedding a million times, but he was the groom. Gabriel was now trapped in the prison of jealousy. When the strength returned to his legs, he was able to imagine his romantic future: lonely, bitter, lost forever. In his usual clumsy manner, Gabriel headed for the dance floor and faced his fear. He danced all night and submitted to the happy unhappiness of his silent life. Across the dance floor, Mimi was watching him. A quick wink was all it took for Gabriel's heart to regenerate and his voice to return: “Hello, Mimi!” A atenção dela foi atraída para um pedaço de papel sobre a escrivaninha. Sem saber como fazê-lo, começou a pensar que tinha de o ler. Tinha de o ler! Durante muitas sessões, ela sempre tomou muita atenção ao gabinete da sua analista. Sabia tudo ao pormenor. Quase que podia dizer quantos centímetros por mês crescia a planta que estava colocada na frente do divã. Terminada a sessão, ela tinha de sair, pelo que se despediu e voltou costas à analista e à escrivaninha. Ainda virou a cabeça novamente para trás, mas já a analista ocupava todo o espaço, não a deixando ver o papelinho novamente... Sair do edifício, andar pela rua, apanhar o metro, regressar a casa… tudo foi feito com o papel na cabeça.
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