PART 1
“If you want to take the children, take them. They’re in my way when it comes to starting my new life.”
Mauricio del Río said that five minutes after we signed our divorce papers, as if he were talking about old furniture and not Emiliano and Sofía, our children.
I was sitting across from the lawyer’s mahogany desk in an elegant office on Paseo de la Reforma, watching the man I’d slept with for ten years answer the phone with a smile he hadn’t given me in years.
“My love, I’m finished,” he said, getting up before the lawyer could put away the documents. “Yes, I’ll make it to the ultrasound. Today we’re going to meet the heir.”
The heir.
He didn’t say “my son.” He didn’t say “our baby.” He said heir, as if the Del Río family were a dynasty and not a house full of rotten people.
His sister, Renata, smiled from the chair next to him.
“Oh, finally something good after all this drama,” he murmured.
I didn’t answer. I had already cried too much in silence. I had cried when I discovered Valeria’s messages, when Mauricio swore to me that “she was just a friend,” when his mother told me that a smart wife learns not to ask questions.
But that morning I didn’t feel abandoned.
I felt relieved.
Mauricio signed one last page without reading it. In it, he agreed that I would have primary custody and authorization to travel with the children. He was so eager to rush off and celebrate his lover’s pregnancy that he didn’t even ask what he was signing.
“Are we done?” he asked, looking at his watch. “My family is waiting for me at the clinic.”
Attorney Carranza cleared his throat.
“Mr. Del Río, it would be wise to review some of the property clauses…”
“Later,” Mauricio interrupted. “I’m not going to fight over apartments or accounts. Let her keep whatever she wants. I already have another life.”
Renata let out a soft laugh.
“And a woman who will actually give him a real child.”
I felt something break, but not inside me. The last shred of respect I still felt for them shattered.
I took a set of keys from my bag and placed them on the table.
Mauricio smiled.
“At least you’re being reasonable about the apartment.”
Then I took out two Mexican passports.
His smile vanished.
“What are those?”
“Emiliano and Sofía’s travel documents.”
Renata straightened up.
“Travel to where?”
I looked him in the eye for the first time all morning.
“To Madrid. We’re leaving today.”
Mauricio let out a dry laugh.
“You? With what money, Isabel? You couldn’t even afford this divorce.”
“That’s none of your business.”
His jaw tightened.
“They’re my children.”
“Three minutes ago you said they were in your way.”
The lawyer lowered his gaze. Renata remained silent. Mauricio opened his mouth, but couldn’t find a phrase to save himself from what he had just said.
I stood up, grabbed my coat, and walked toward the reception area. Emiliano was sitting in a leather armchair, clutching his dinosaur backpack. Sofía was coloring a flower without looking up.
“Are we leaving now, Mom?” she asked.
“Yes, my love.”
As we left the building, a black SUV was waiting for us. The driver got out immediately.
“Mrs. Salazar, Mr. Escalante asked me to take you directly to the airport.”
Mauricio followed me out.
“Escalante? Who the hell is Escalante?”
I didn’t answer. It wasn’t worth it.
The driver opened the door, and before getting in, I turned around one last time.
“Hurry up, Mauricio. Don’t be late for the future you were bragging about.”
Continued on next page
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