That same year, Camila’s mother passed away. Camila was traveling at the time, and she never got the chance to see her mother in her final moments. Afonso did everything he could for her mother, arranging for proper medical care during her illness. When she passed, he managed all the funeral rites himself, organizing a traditional meal for the community and ensuring the final ceremonies were performed with utmost care, as if it were his own mother who had departed.
With her father already gone, Afonso had become the sole head of his family, free of anyone to restrain him or challenge his decisions.
Now, Camila had little reason to visit her childhood home, and even less time. She had taken on the role of mistress of her own household, with her duties keeping her close to home. Over time, she had two more children. Her eldest son was old enough to attend school, while her younger one studied at a village school. Each year, Afonso would send a messenger to check on her well-being and the children, content with the news that Camila was safe and settled. For him, knowing that she was happy was enough.
As the years passed, Afonso’s own sons had grown up, and he was entangled in the responsibilities of his household. His life had entered the steady rhythm of middle age, and he was now past forty. Yet, somewhere deep within him, he still held the memory of Camila close to his heart, safely preserved in the quietest recesses of his soul.
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