The Slave of Pleasure
Chapter 41

Rachel

The butler immediately followed my order and went to get Dr. Afolse, who was in the waiting room. With his departure, Vincenzo and I were alone for a brief moment. A silence hung in the air, but this time, it was different. It wasn't the silence full of tension or confusion that I had feared until then. It was a silence... calmer. One that allowed me, for a moment, to take a deep breath and connect with the reality we were living.

Still, I couldn't help but feel a certain fear when I looked at Vincenzo. He seemed so distant, so different from that man who was always so present and sure of himself. My heart was tight. But, for some reason, I wasn't as nervous as before. Maybe it was the feeling that help was on the way, or maybe it was the simple fact that, despite everything, he was still there with me.

"Rachel, sit here," Vincenzo said, extending his hand toward me. The invitation was unexpected, but I didn't hesitate. I took his hand and sat down next to him on the bed. His touch was firm, but there was a softness to it that I hadn't expected, a kindness I rarely saw in him.

Vincenzo didn't let go of my hand, and neither did I. There was something comforting in that gesture, as if by staying physically connected we could push away the fear and uncertainty that surrounded the moment. He pulled me lightly, signaling that he wanted to feel my closeness. It wasn't a closeness full of intentions, as it sometimes used to be. No. It was something purer, more intimate. He needed to feel that I was there, by his side, and I wanted him to know that I wasn't going anywhere.

The silence lasted for a few more seconds, but this time, there was no discomfort. Vincenzo didn't say anything, he just looked at me. His gaze, always intense and controlled, now had a softness that surprised me. It was a look of gratitude, of recognition. He was weak, and yet there he was, beside me, showing me a kindness that I thought would take much longer to see.

I felt my heart sink again, but this time for a completely different reason. There was something in the way he looked at me that made me realize how much our connection was changing. Vincenzo, the powerful man who was always in control, was allowing me to see a part of him that he hid from the world.

We didn't know what Dr. Afolse would say, and that still worried me deeply. But in that moment, sitting next to him, holding his hand, I felt a wave of calm that I hadn't imagined possible. Vincenzo was there, beside me, trusting me in a way he rarely trusted anyone. And no matter how uncertain the future might seem, I knew that as long as we were together, we could face whatever came.

The sound of the butler's footsteps approaching broke the silence, and soon Dr. Afolse would be in the room. But for now, I allowed myself to just be there, next to Vincenzo, feeling the weight of everything we were facing together. The butler knocked softly on the door, and I answered immediately: "You may come in." The moment had arrived, and with it, a mixture of relief and tension took hold of me. Doctor Afonse was finally there, and I could only hope that he would bring answers and a solution to what we were facing.

As soon as the doctor entered the room, Vincenzo was the first to speak, with a casual tone that caught me completely off guard: "Doctor Afonse, it's been a long time..." The naturalness in his voice almost fooled me for a second, but the expression on the butler's face brought me back to reality. I looked at Vincenzo, and my heart sank. He had forgotten again. How was that possible?

The butler and I exchanged looks filled with astonishment and sadness. It was as if we were sharing an unspoken thought: "Did he forget again? It can't be!" The feeling of helplessness hit me like a wave. I knew something was wrong, but I wasn't prepared for it to happen so quickly, so repeatedly, and again. Before I could say anything, Dr. Afonse, unlike us, just smiled. It was a calm smile, almost comforting, as if he knew something we didn't, or as if he was already familiar with this situation. His posture disarmed the tension in the air for a moment. "It's only been a few hours since we last saw each other, Vincenzo..." he began, before launching his diagnosis with cold precision: "Selective amnesia... of course it is." Those words echoed in my mind. Selective amnesia. It wasn't something I expected to hear, but at the same time, it made sense. Dr. Afonse seemed so sure of his assessment that, for a moment, I felt a little calmer. He was in control of the situation, he knew what was happening, and that was a relief in the midst of chaos.

The doctor continued: "I already knew this could happen, but not so quickly."

Although his tone was calm, myThe worries didn't completely disappear. Vincenzo was dealing with something I didn't fully understand. What exactly did "selective amnesia" mean? He remembered some things, but others simply disappeared from his mind as if they had never existed. And that wasn't something that could be easily resolved.

The relief I felt at having an explanation soon gave way to anxiety. When would he return to normal? When could I stop worrying about what he remembered or didn't remember? And, most importantly, how would this affect everything we were beginning to feel together at that moment? Would Vincenzo fondly remember these moments when I was by his side and when he was being kind and loving to me?

I tried to remain calm, anchoring myself in Dr. Afonse's serene demeanor, but the uncertainty about what would happen next still consumed me inside. Vincenzo seemed so calm, so oblivious to the whirlwind of emotions that was going on inside me. He looked at the doctor, waiting for his instructions, without realizing how much that situation was affecting me.

I knew I had to be strong. Vincenzo needed me now more than ever. And even with the fear I felt, I knew I couldn't let it show. Doctor Afonse was there, doing his job, and I would do mine: be by Vincenzo's side, support him, even if he didn't remember.