He didn’t hit.
He had several days’ growth of beard and dark circles under his eyes.
—I need to see you.
—Talk to my lawyer.
—Laura, please. It’s me.
I looked at him through the peephole.
—That was the problem. That it really was you.
He remained silent.
“I broke up with Paola,” he said.
I almost laughed.
-Congratulations.
—Don’t be like that.
I barely opened the door, with the chain.
I wanted to see his face when he understood.
—So what? Hurt? Lucid? Pregnant with your children and still not wanting to comfort you?
Her eyes filled with tears.
—I thought you had deceived me.
—And you decided to punish me before even confirming. That wasn’t pain, Diego. It was permission. You were waiting for an excuse to leave with her without feeling guilty.
Her face twisted.
Because the truth doesn’t always need medical tests.
Sometimes it just needs to be said out loud.
—Paola looked for me when I was confused—he murmured.
—Paola didn’t pack your suitcase. Paola didn’t force you to post that photo. Paola didn’t make you bring me an agreement to take my house.
He lowered his head.
—My lawyer handled the house situation.
—The lawyer doesn’t sleep in your body.
Silence.
I placed a hand on my belly.
—You’re not coming in, Diego.
-Never?
That word brought fear.
And for the first time, I didn’t feel like fixing it.
—I don’t know. But not today. And not because you’re feeling sorry for yourself right when you lost control of the story.
I closed it.
The following months were filled with war and waiting.
The twin pregnancy forced me to slow down. Severe nausea, fatigue, constant appointments, vitamins, ultrasounds. My body became both a battlefield and a temple.
Diego tried to accompany me to the appointments.
At first I didn’t stop.
Then, on the advice of the psychologist and the lawyer, I allowed her to attend some sessions, always with clear conditions. No scenes. No touching me. No speaking for me.
The first time she heard both complete heartbeats, she cried.
She cried a lot.
