Genoveva continued to turn her back. But she clearly imagined what her husband was doing; she felt him walk to the table, heard his briefcase open, the sound of documents falling onto the table, and that unmistakable sound of the button on his pen being pressed to reveal the tip.
Deciding to ignore him, she quickly walked to her bedroom without turning around and shut the door.
"DAMN IT, GENOVEVA, COME BACK HERE" Santiago shouted from downstairs, but when he received no response, he hurried upstairs with the documents in hand.
He didn’t want to knock on the door, as eight crying children were the last thing he needed at that moment. So, he took his key and opened the door.
Santiago was surprised to see Genoveva undressing. He couldn’t deny that he loved those curves, so he decided to leave the papers on the table and walk toward her.
Genoveva was ignoring him. But when she felt her husband’s hands caressing her back, it made her shiver, and her skin tingled. The five months without sex worked against her; besides, she thought this was an opportunity to save their marriage.
Santiago gave her a wicked smile and a lustful look; he began undressing and approached her, kissing her lips, then her neck, and continued down to her breasts, which were sagging but still large. He reveled in them, sucking, biting, and gently squeezing them with his hands while he thrust in and out of her again and again. His thrusts were strong and precise, drawing moans from his wife’s lips.
Genoveva had her heart shattered; she was aware that he was saying goodbye to her, and he showed it with his attitude.
Santiago, though kissing her, closed his eyes. He didn’t look her in the face, but she didn’t mind. If divorce was a fact, she would spend a long time without sex, so using her husband one last time to quench her pent-up desires wasn’t wrong, although the truth was that it tore her apart inside.
They had sex in many ways. Santiago had never felt her so insatiable; she was completely receptive to everything he wanted to try.
But Genoveva made a mistake; as Santi groaned and released inside her, she whispered in his ear,
"I love you, Santi" she said it from the bottom of her heart, but it seemed to have offended him.
He pulled away, began to dress, and didn’t hesitate to disappoint her.
"Don’t get confused, Genoveva. Just because you were a good lay doesn’t mean this changes my decision to divorce you."
Genoveva could only show a bitter smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
"A lay that lasted ten years. Santiago, be a man and just tell me the truth; I think I deserve that" she said, getting up from the bed and putting on her bathrobe.
"Fine, I didn’t want to hurt you, but you never take anything well. Camila is back, and I want to be with her."
"Camila? Who is Camila? An ex? Damn, did you make me name my daughter after your ex?" she asked, standing in front of him.
"She’s also my daughter, and Camila is the love of my life. She’s back, and she wants us to try together. We spent these past two months together, and with her, I feel complete and happy. She is a beautiful, refined, and elegant woman."
Every word from Santiago stabbed Genoveva’s heart; she felt as if she was beginning to struggle for breath.
"She is what I used to be before I met you. But if you want to have a mistress, go ahead; I won’t oppose it. But I’m not getting a divorce. If you want to, go be with her."
"No, understand this, Genoveva. I want to spend the rest of my life with her. Camila is pregnant, and my child will not be a bastard."
"Ah, and mine will be? I remind you that we have eight children, eight little ones who need their father and that each one of them was a result of your great desire for a large family. It’s not fair that my little ones grow up without you."
“Genoveva, my children will never be bastards; they were born into marriage, they are my legitimate children. It is you I want to separate from, not them. For God's sake, have some dignity and sign the damn paper,” Santiago said, with a look of disdain, offering her the pen.
At that moment, Genoveva understood that she had lost him, and she bit her lips to prevent her tears from flowing. She was broken inside, wishing she could tell him to his face that he was destroying her, that he was finishing her off, but what difference would it make? He loved another person, and she had only been his substitute. The owner of his heart had arrived, and Santiago discarded her like an old piece of furniture. But Genoveva remembered something—Oh God, what an idiot she was! How could she have forgotten?
She took the pen and let out a loud laugh from the depths of her heart.
“Ha, ha, ha. Ha, ha, ha. Why don’t I have dignity? For wanting to keep you by my side? But you do have dignity? You, who are leaving your home for a woman who abandoned you at the altar eleven years ago? Ha, ha, ha, how foolish I am! How could I forget that it was I who rescued you from the abyss, who pieced you together when she left you? But now, since the woman got tired of sleeping around and returned to look for the idiot she mocked all those years ago, I must simply step aside. Fine.”
“Don’t talk about her like that, you don’t know everything she’s been through,” he said.
“No, and I’m not interested in knowing,” Genoveva expressed, holding back the storm inside her.
Santiago’s gaze was fixed on her; apparently, her words had hurt him. But nothing would stop him now. What angered him most was that Genoveva’s demeanor had changed; she wore a wicked smile, occasionally looking at him with pity, like one would look at a pig heading to the slaughterhouse.
“I hope you don’t regret it, Santiago. Because the moment you cross that door, you are dead to me,” Genoveva said as she signed the divorce papers, not bothering to read anything; nothing mattered to her anymore.
“I’ll come to visit my children. Don’t worry; they will lack for nothing,” he said, trying to meet her gaze. But she turned her back to him.
Santiago had little left to collect. He had been preparing for this moment before the trip, gradually taking his things away. So, he simply opened the door, took one last look at his wife’s back, and left.
When Genoveva heard the door close, she sat on the couch, brought both hands to her face, and let out the tears she had been holding back.
Santiago, on his part, reached the car and started it, but he felt strange, experiencing a void in his heart. Had he really divorced Genoveva?
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