That night, back at the apartment, while he was taking a bath, his cell phone lit up on the kitchen table.
The message read: “So he did sign?”
And at that moment I understood that something much worse was hidden behind my wedding.
I couldn’t believe what was about to happen…
PART 2
I stared at the screen as if it was going to turn off by itself and erase what I had just read.
He didn’t.
The contact’s name was Marcos. Rodrigo never put a password on his phone; he always said that honest people don’t need to hide anything. I opened it with freezing hands and went into the chat.
The first thing I saw was a message from two weeks earlier:
Marcos: “Did the lawyer finalize the clause?”
Rodrigo: “Yes. The important thing is that the apartment and land deal is tied up.”
Marcos: “And does she understand what she’s going to sign?”
Rodrigo: “No. She trusts me.”
I kept going down.
My apartment in the Narvarte neighborhood, the one my father put in my name years ago. A small plot of land in Cuernavaca that I had inherited from my aunt. A savings account. Everything was mentioned with a coldness that made my stomach churn. They weren’t talking about me as a wife. They were talking about me as a file.
Then the real blow came.
