—No. My regret was staying for ten years.
I stepped off the stage.
Nobody stopped me.
Nobody yelled at me.
Nobody laughed.
That was the most powerful thing of all. The respectful silence that opened up around me. As if for the first time, in that house, in that family, in that world of rich men and cruel mothers, I had ceased to be invisible.
I went to the main table, took my bag and the remaining folder.
There was one last thing.
I turned my face towards Ricardo.
—By the way, since you like to talk so much about what’s “in your name”…
That immediately caught the attention of several people.
I took out another document.
“Six months ago, while you were emptying accounts to pay for apartments, gifts, and trips for your lover, you made a small tax oversight. A rather clumsy one. Your accountant, who thankfully still knows the difference between loyalty and complicity, alerted me in time. With that and other evidence of psychological abuse and financial fraud, my lawyers have already filed for divorce, requested protective measures, and sought the preventive freezing of several assets.”
Ricardo remained still.
-That?
—You heard me. The house won’t be truly yours for a long time. And you won’t have anyone to yell “sterile” at while you sort it out.
For the first time, I saw real fear in his eyes.
No to ridicule.
No to scandal.
To lose.
Paola let out a broken, hysterical laugh.
—Did you bring me to live with a wife who’s suing you and a child who isn’t even yours?
Ricardo looked at her as if he wanted to kill her.
-Be quiet.
“No!” she shouted. “You told me everything was under control! That she was fine! That she was a hopeless, useless woman!”
I felt something strange when I heard it out loud.
No pleasure.
More like the exact sound of a lie dying.
Doña Carmen began to cry, but no one comforted her. Not even her own son.
I walked toward the main exit while behind me the perfect baby shower turned into a disaster. The balloons were still there. The cake was still untouched. The candy table was still gorgeous. All the decorations remained beautiful, and amidst that picture-perfect beauty, the truth writhed like an animal finally unleashed.
I was almost at the door when I heard footsteps behind me.
It was Paola.
She came without shoes, with smudged makeup and one hand on her stomach.
—Wait—he said.
I turned around.
For a second I thought he was going to insult me. Or beg me for something. Or blame me for everything.
But not.
He just looked at me with immense defeat.
“I didn’t know about the studies,” she whispered. “Or about Rodrigo. I… I thought someone was finally choosing me.”
