Chapter 13
I also remember that he ordered me to water his plants.
How absurd.
He had decided to abandon our marriage, yet he still expected me to take care of the things he didn't want to bring with him.
For a long time, I believed love meant enduring.
Always understanding.
Forgiving even before receiving an apology.
Staying, even when staying hurt.
Now I know that loving someone shouldn't require sacrificing your own self-respect.
Daniel believed his absence would teach me how much I needed him.
And in a strange way, he did teach me something.
He taught me that I could stand on my own.
That I could make difficult decisions.
That I could start from scratch in another city, surrounded by a different language and a future I couldn't yet imagine.
He taught me that a house filled with memories can become a prison when only one person is allowed to feel free.
And that closing a door doesn't always mean losing something.
Sometimes, it means finally stopping yourself from disappearing.
One Sunday morning, while watering the tulips I'd bought to celebrate my divorce, I received a message from Michael.
He had been passing through our old neighborhood and had run into the new owners.
The couple had welcomed a baby girl.
He sent me a photograph they had given him permission to share.
They were standing in front of the building, smiling, holding their baby.
Behind them, I could make out the apartment balcony.
The very same balcony from which I had watched Vanessa's car drive away.
I looked at the picture for a long moment.
Then I typed:
"Please congratulate them for me. I hope they'll be very happy there."
Michael replied:
"They say they are. And that they were lucky to find that home."
I smiled.
For them, that apartment was the beginning of a story.
For me, it had been the end of another.
And both things could be true.
I set my phone on the table and opened the window.
Fresh air swept into the apartment.
I had plans for the day.
A walk in the park.
A phone call with Sofía.
And dinner with a few friends.
Simple things.
A simple life.
But for the first time in years, no one else was going to decide when I was allowed to enjoy it.
My ex-husband walked away convinced that his absence would be my punishment.