“What do you mean you don’t? She’s your mother. And I need to rest too. I can’t do everything.”
After two weeks the tension was obvious.
Doña Teresa was in a bad mood, Alejandro exhausted, and I… surprisingly calm.
One night, when Mateo was already asleep, Alejandro sat across from me in the kitchen. His shoulders were slumped.
“Gabriela… I think I made a mistake.”
I looked at him silently.
“In everything,” he continued. “In the way I spoke to you. In deciding for you. I didn’t understand what it meant to give up your life.”
“Do you understand now?” I asked.
“Yes. And I’m ashamed of it.”
The next day Doña Teresa asked to speak with me.
“Gabriela, I think it would be better if I return home earlier,” she said coldly. “I’ll manage on my own. Or hire someone.”
“As you wish,” I replied evenly.
That same day Alejandro received a call from Patricia. She explained that after my “departure,” several projects had stalled and an important client was very upset.
Alejandro collapsed onto the sofa.
“You lied to me…” he whispered.
