I needed it, my soul freezing. 904 was right outside my door. My heart pounded as if it were bursting in my chest. Could it be that for four years my husband had been living another life, another woman, right under my feet, while I, unknowingly, walked through this nest of betrayal every day?
That evening, pretending the wrong package had arrived, I aggressively approached the door to 904. A strong young woman opened it, assaulting my gaze. With this tool, Rodrigo, sitting on the sofa in his familiar sandals, is the perfect solution to the need.
At that moment, my world collapsed. He stood up, flustered, stuttering:
"Isabel... let me explain..."
I faced him, my voice trembling but filled with rage:
"Explain what?" For four years, down here, you lived like this! Are you a true wife… or just a shadow hiding your sin?”
Silence filled the small apartment. The lady released the light; Rodrigo sweated, he can't kill me. In this first, our connection occurs. Such betrayal is unforgivable.
I returned home and slammed the door, which had been locked by the last lockup. That evening, no one dared to find me. The phone rang incessantly, but I didn't answer.
The next morning, as I gathered my things, my mother-in-law, Doña Carmen, appeared with a stern expression:
"Do you really want to start a fight? All men have their antics. Rodrigo loves you, he loves children. He bought this apartment just to be discreet. If you start a fight, the whole family will be ridiculed."
I demanded, a lump in my throat, and I asked:
"So, you demand from the beginning?"
She listened and whispered: "Four years ago. I advised him, but I didn't listen. A wise woman knows how to turn a blind eye to protect her home."
