Episode 2

Laura's point of view

Night had fallen, and with it, a silence that knotted in my throat. There was no news from Felipe. Since his explosion at lunch, he hadn't called back, not a single message, nothing. The minutes stretched into hours of anguish, every sound a false alarm. I tried to call him, again and again, but only found the empty echo of his voicemail, a recorded voice that sounded cruelly alien to my desperation. The house, once a home full of promises, had become an icy prison, a mausoleum waiting for a dead man.

The first rays of the sun crept through the window, and with them, Felipe appeared. He entered in silence, but his eyes spoke for him: anger, disappointment, and a cold, unknown contempt. There was something else, something my heart refused to acknowledge.

"What are you doing awake so early?" he asked, his voice flat, without the slightest hint of concern. He didn't even bother to look at me.

"You didn't come home to sleep... It's the first time," I whispered, and my voice came out broken, stripped of all strength.

He didn't answer. He simply walked to the closet, took out a suit, and locked himself in the bathroom. There was no need for words. The silence said it all. This was the end. My heart, a runaway drum in my chest, screamed it to me with every beat.

Tears welled up uncontrollably, a salty torrent that burned my cheeks. "Don't let anyone humiliate you," my mother's words echoed in my mind, a beacon of dignity in the midst of my shipwreck. I got up from the sofa, trembling, and dragged myself to the mirror.

What I saw was not the woman I was. The one who dressed carefully, the one who dressed for him, fresh and radiant. In front of me was a ghost: a withered woman, with eyes swollen from crying so much, with dull skin and an empty soul. It was a reflection of my defeat.

Felipe came out of the bathroom, impeccable, as if the night hadn't existed. His eyes scanned me with a coldness that broke me in two. He took his clothes from the closet and, without saying a word to me, dressed to face the world. The contempt was so palpable that I felt like I was drowning.

"Do you want to get a divorce?" My voice broke in the middle of the sentence, but the courage of the question kept me standing.

"Yes. I want to get a divorce. This no longer makes sense," he replied, and each of his words was a knife that sank deep into my soul.

Every sound that came out of my mouth was a piercing pain. Five years of my life, my body, my soul given to him. And it ended like this? Without an explanation, without looking me in the eye. He was leaving, leaving me turned into nothing.

"Ok. Then start the paperwork," I said, struggling to keep my voice firm, so he wouldn't notice the tremor inside me.

As soon as the bedroom door closed, I collapsed. The weight of the pain I had held back crushed me. I wanted to scream at him, demand answers, break something. But I couldn't. I was raised to be strong in weakness, to not show my wounds, to not be seen as a weak woman.

I looked for a suitcase, packed the essentials. I didn't want to take anything he had given me, not a single memory of the happy days that now seemed like a lie. I left that immense house, a place I had imagined as the home of our children, my love nest. Now it was just an empty shell. And I, a worthless container, with nothing to offer.

I couldn't go to my parents' house. The failure weighed too heavily. It would be an embarrassment to my father, a stain he would never forgive me for. Wandering through the city, dragging my suitcase, only silence kept me company. With the little money I had, I took refuge in a seedy hotel, an anonymous place where no one would look for me. For now, that's what I needed.

Once alone in that sordid room, I allowed myself to collapse. The tears welled up again, hot and bitter. I wanted the pain to dissolve, for my whole life to disappear. But just when the darkness began to envelop me, a message on my cell phone brought me back to reality. It was from Felipe. For a second, a ray of absurd hope ignited in my chest, only to be crushed by the message: "The divorce papers are ready, go to the lawyer's office tomorrow to sign them."

Was he so eager to separate from me? The question pierced my mind. A bitter smile drew on my face. Without thinking twice, I replied with a simple "ok." I turned off the phone and collapsed on the uncomfortable bed. I wouldn't shed another tear for someone who had only seen me as an incubator, a container that had now turned out to be "defective." Exhaustion overcame me, an emptiness that dragged me to sleep.

The first rays of the sun hit my face. When I opened my eyes and saw that miserable place, I knew it was all real. It hadn't been a nightmare. The pain was tangible, but something in me had hardened. I got up determined to face the day.

With steady hands, I dressed impeccably. The makeup covered my dark circles, my face acquired the mask of the perfect woman. I took my suitcase, went out into the street, and rented a car. I drove to Felipe's lawyer's office.

He was already there, his face colder than ever. "Where have you been?" he asked as soon as he saw me, and an invisible mockery drew on his lips.

I snorted. "From today, that's none of your business," I said with a coldness that surprised even myself.

"Your mother is worried and keeps calling, that's why I'm asking."

My mom. I had spent two days without talking to her. Guilt pierced me, but I didn't allow myself to give in. "When I sign the divorce, I'll talk to her."

Felipe looked at me, incredulous. He surely expected a drama, a scene of pleading. But that wouldn't happen. I wasn't going to lose my dignity. Not in front of him or anyone else.

We entered the lawyer's office. The professionalism of his greeting was a welcome to legal indifference. He asked us to sit down and spread the papers in front of me. Just as I had imagined, the agreement didn't offer me a penny of his fortune. I signed without hesitation, without a single emotion betraying my face.

"Are you planning to sign just like that?" The intrigue in his eyes was almost palpable.

"I want to get this over with once and for all. Besides, you're the one who's most interested in this ending."

With each stroke of my pen, I felt like I was burning inside. While my exterior remained unmoved, the flames of pain consumed every cell of my skin. The divorce was signed, but the wound was just beginning to bleed.

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