— It’s my money. I decide where to keep it. Don’t get your hopes up.
Over time, the arguments between us began to grow.
Lucía was exhausted from working two jobs, but I said she was lazy.
When she asked me for more money for our son’s school expenses, I exploded:
— All you have to do is take care of the house and the kid! If you can’t even do that properly, what are you even here for?
One night, after a terrible fight, Lucía didn’t scream.
She didn’t cry.
She simply began packing her clothes in silence.
When she finished, she left a piece of paper on the table.
It was a divorce petition, already signed.
She looked at me with tired eyes and said quietly:
— I’m tired, Daniel. I don’t want to live in a house where my voice has no value. I will take our son with me.
