I looked at the man with whom I had shared seven years of my life.
The man with whom I had a son, a mortgage, plans, memories…
And suddenly… I didn’t recognize him.
“Alejandro, I’m the director of the marketing department at a company that brings in hundreds of millions of pesos. I have eight people reporting to me and I’m managing a project worth more than four hundred million.”
He shrugged.
“So what? They’ll find someone else. You only get one mother.”
The coffee pot trembled slightly in my hand.
The coffee was about to boil.
“Our son is also one of a kind, just so you remember.”
“Mateo spends the whole day at daycare. There’s no problem with him. My mother, on the other hand, needs constant care.”
I removed the coffee pot from the heat and slowly poured coffee into the cups.
I needed time to think.
My mother-in-law, Doña Teresa, had recently broken her leg.
But calling her “sick and helpless” was a huge exaggeration.
At sixty-five she was more active than many women in their forties.
She went to the theater downtown, met friends for coffee… and always found a way to interfere in our family life when she visited.
“When does she arrive?” I asked.
