The Beginning of the End
Silence settles between us after the last words spoken by Carlos, who remains in the same spot. My mind races, seeking a way to defend myself. Faced with his request, it's obvious that he witnessed what happened at X's house. I couldn't lie, as much as my thoughts begged for it. Finally, I open my lips, filtering the words present in my throat:
"Where are the children?"
"Dalia, did you hear what I said?" Carlos asks, serious.
"Where are the children?" I repeat, biting my lips afterward.
"They're sleeping," Carlos responds, staring at the papers. "Dalia..."
"Why? Why do you want a divorce?" I ask, nervously running my hand through my hair. I try to reach for his hand, but he moves away. "Carlos, I..."
"No, you're not going to say anything," Carlos says, impassive.
"Carlos, please..." I plead, sitting in the chair beside him.
"No, Dalia... I don't want to hear anything," Carlos continues, looking at me. "Nothing you say will convince me otherwise."
"Please, listen to me..." I plead, holding onto his arm.
"No, Dalia. Please, no," Carlos says, moving his arm away. He holds my head between his hands, forcing me to look at him, and then says, "I cheated on you."
"What?" I ask, confused.
"I slept with Duny," Carlos reveals before releasing my head. He covers his face with his hands and continues, "I broke our contract... I failed..."
"No... Carlos, you didn't fail... Everyone makes mistakes... can fail..." I start to say, trying to approach him. "Carlos, I..."
My husband stands up from the table and walks to our living room. I also stand up and go to him, crying, not caring that he slept with Duny. After all, who was I to judge him when I had just done the same thing? Carlos is standing in the middle of the room. He turns to face me with a defeated expression:
"I lied to you... When I came back from Portugal at that time, I lied to you. After you got into the elevator and left... I approached Duny, and we had an affair. But when you said that when I came back, I might not find you anymore... I realized I was ruining everything with you. And you, Dalia, mean everything to me... You're everything I've ever wanted..."
"Carlos..."
"I thought that after everything we went through to rebuild our marriage, nothing could shake me anymore," Carlos continues, ignoring me. "Until I went back to Portugal and met Duny. I thought I could maintain a cordial relationship with her and explained that we wouldn't do anything from the past. That we would just be colleagues. We went out, we drank, and before I knew it, I was holding her in my arms... The only thing I could think about was you, that once again, I was hurting you."
"Carlos, you need to listen to me..." I plead, crying.
"No, Dalia. You were right... You've always been. I'm not good at keeping promises, and I'll never be able to keep any of them, not even for you. Not even with a damn contract!" Carlos yells.
The sob from Marisol's room indicates that she was awakened by my husband's last words. I turn toward the hallway, but then I look back at my husband, who briefly raised his head in that direction but then looks at me again, sadly:
"I want a divorce because at least I can keep that promise."
"Stay here," I ask, touching my husband's chest. "I'll be back, and then we'll talk about everything. You're not the only one who made mistakes in this marriage." I finish by holding my husband's face in my hands, lifting my body, and kissing him on his lips that don't even open.
I walk toward our daughter's room, but not before looking back at him one more time and locking eyes. It was more than time to tell Carlos everything. This burden wasn't just his; it was mine too. I enter Marisol's room, where she's crying heavily. I pick her up in my arms, rocking her until she calms down, and then put her back, turning on her mobile with hanging animals to distract her. I leave my daughter's room, walk down the hallway, and say:
"Carlos, before you make this decision, you need to know that I've cheated on you too. In fact, I've been doing it for a long ti...me?" I start to say until I find my living room, which is empty. "Carlos?"
I walk toward the dining room, and neither my husband nor the postnuptial agreement is there. I walk toward the front door, opening it as quickly as I can, and then I find him standing in the elevator.
"Carlos!" I call from the doorway, not understanding. "Where are you going?"
My husband turns to face me, and the elevator doors open. I take two steps forward, staring at Carlos, who remains still. I feel that if I get closer, I can convince him. He needed to know the whole truth, even if I had to shout it in the hallway. I open my lips, ready to tell him:
"Mamá!" Juan shouts from inside so loudly that I can hear it from the doorway.
I look at the door and hear the heartfelt crying of our son, and then I look at Carlos, who takes a step toward me.
"Mamá! Mamá! Mamá! Where are you? Mamá!"
Carlos shakes his head and walks toward the elevator, which closes its doors, taking my husband away.
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