Chapter 4
Lilibeth's face reddened.
“Maria, you're being cruel.”
“No, Lilibeth. I'm finally being fair.”
Vanessa began crying.
Adrian wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“Look what you're doing,” he snapped.
I stared at him.
For six years, I'd been the woman who remembered his mother's birthday.
The woman who bought medicine when his father complained about his blood pressure.
The woman who paid Camille's children's school fees one semester when her husband lost his job.
The woman who helped Marco get his first office job through a client at the bank.
And now Adrian was comforting his mistress because I'd refused to hand over my mother's house.
Something inside me became perfectly still.
“Adrian,” I said, “I want a divorce.”
He froze.
Despite everything he'd done, he looked genuinely surprised.
“You're serious?”
“Completely.”
“But Vanessa's pregnant.”
“Yes. You mentioned that.”
“You can't just end six years of marriage.”
I looked at him for a long moment.
“I didn't. You did.”
The meeting ended twenty minutes later.
Not because they agreed with me.
But because they finally understood that bullying me wasn't going to work.
Before leaving, Lilibeth tried one last approach.
“Maria, don't make decisions while you're emotional. Think of all the years you've spent with us.”
I looked her straight in the eyes.
“I have.”
Her expression softened.
Then I added, “That's why I'm certain.”
She said nothing.
I explained that my lawyer would handle the separation arrangements, including Adrian's departure from the house and the financial issues. There would be no dramatic midnight eviction, but there would also be no agreement to give up my property.
Adrian stood near the front door, looking around the living room as though he were seeing it for the first time.
The television I'd purchased.
The dining table my mother had chosen.
The family photographs on the wall.
Then he whispered, “Where am I supposed to go?”
I couldn't believe the question.
His pregnant mistress was standing beside him.
His parents were waiting outside.
His sister and brother had spent an hour insisting that I should disappear.
And he was asking me where he should go.
I opened the door.
“That's something you should have thought about before you invited another woman to take my place.”
He stared at me.
Then he left.
When the door finally closed, the silence felt unfamiliar.
For six years, I'd been afraid of silence.
Afraid that if I stopped pleasing everyone, nobody would love me.