Meanwhile, I had lost everything. My stomach churned, and I quickly closed the browser, but that image was seared into my mind. Rage and a sense of injustice began to boil inside me. That became my greatest motivation. I had to pull through. I had to prove to them that without Miguel, Lily and I could live well, even better than well. I dried my tears and, with renewed determination, started sending out resumes everywhere. After two weeks of relentless effort, I finally received a call for an interview at a design studio in Chelsea.
It was a small agency, but at that moment it was a huge beacon of hope. Besides, I didn’t want to keep living in Julian’s attic. My pride was urging me toward an independent life, even if it meant moving back to a small apartment in Brooklyn. Combining my meager savings with the money Julian insisted on giving me for Lili, I found a new, modest apartment in Park Slope, in a quieter, safer neighborhood. I wanted to prove to Julian that I could take care of my own life.
When I told him I was moving, he objected immediately. “Why the rush? Stay here until you get a job and start earning some money. Living alone out there is dangerous.” “I can’t keep depending on you,” I replied firmly. “I need to be independent.” “Don’t worry, I did my research. This neighborhood is safe.” Knowing he couldn’t change my mind, Julián sighed and agreed. He helped me pack and move to the new place. The apartment was small, but after I organized it, it looked tidy and cozy.
Seeing the result of my own effort gave me a small sense of happiness. This would be the true beginning of a new life for me and my daughter. The first night in the new apartment, after putting Lili to bed, I was alone in silence. I felt free, but also a little lonely. Around 11 p.m., as I was getting ready for bed, I heard a strange noise outside the door. It was a faint metallic sound, but in the absolute silence of the night, it sounded terrifyingly loud.
My heart stopped. I held my breath and listened. There it was again. Metal on metal. It sounded exactly like someone trying to force the lock. Blood ran cold. Another attempted robbery in this so-called neighborhood. Sure. I ran to the bed and picked up Lili, who was still fast asleep. With trembling hands, I grabbed my phone. Without thinking, the first person who came to mind was Julián. I dialed his number. My hands were shaking so much I almost dropped the phone.
It rang once before I answered. “Sara, what’s wrong?” His voice was low and calm. “Julian, someone, someone’s trying to open my door.” My voice cracked with terror. “Calm down. Secure the lock and chain. Push something heavy against the door. I’m on my way.” He didn’t sound agitated. His instructions were quick and firm. I did exactly as he said, dragging the only heavy desk I owned to block the door. The noise outside stopped abruptly. It seemed whoever it was had realized I was awake.
And he was gone. But the fear inside me didn’t disappear. I huddled in a corner, hugging Lili, my eyes fixed on the door. Less than five minutes later, my phone rang. It was Julián. “I’m downstairs. Can you let me in?” I quickly moved the desk aside and looked through the peephole. It was him. I let out a huge sigh of relief and opened the door. He rushed in immediately, his eyes scanning the room with concern. When he saw that Lili and I were okay, his expression softened.
Are you okay? Where’s the guy? I don’t know. I think he heard me on the phone and took off. I answered, still trembling. Then something clicked in my mind. He’d arrived too fast, incredibly fast. His penthouse in Tribeca was at least a 25-minute drive from Brooklyn, even without traffic. I looked at him, suspicion growing inside me. How did you get here so fast? Julian was silent. His expression became complex. He sighed and said something that left me completely stunned.
I rented the apartment right below yours. I stared at him, confused. “I couldn’t sleep knowing you and the baby were here alone,” he explained apologetically. “As soon as you signed the lease, I contacted the landlord and rented the apartment downstairs, just so I could keep an eye on her and protect her if needed.” He pulled out his phone and showed me the digital lease. It was the same address, and his name was listed as the tenant. It was all so sudden. I didn’t know whether to be furious at being watched or deeply touched by his obsessive concern.
He had arranged everything in silence, just to ensure our safety. “Please don’t be angry,” he said gently. “I was just very worried. And look what happened. You saw it with your own eyes. You’re not safe here alone. Pack your things. We’re going back to my house. If I’m there, no one will ever touch you or Lily again.” I looked at his worried face and remembered the terror I had felt just moments before. I couldn’t refuse. My pride and my desire for independence crumbled completely in the face of my daughter’s safety.
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