His eyes filled with tears.
“I thought you had deceived me.”
“And you decided to punish me before confirming anything. That was not pain, Diego. That was permission. You were waiting for an excuse to leave with her without feeling guilty.”
His expression tightened.
“Paola was there when I was confused,” he murmured.
“Paola did not pack your suitcase. She did not force you to post that photo. She did not make you send me papers to take my house.”
He lowered his head.
I rested my hand on my belly.
“You are not coming in, Diego.”
“Never?”
“I do not know. But not today. Not because you are feeling sorry now that you have lost control of the story.”
I closed the door.
The following months became a difficult combination of legal conflict and medical uncertainty.
Carrying twins demanded more from my body than I had expected.
I suffered severe nausea.
