“My dear Lucía, be honest with me, are you truly happy?” She remained silent for a long time. I thought she wasn’t going to answer. “Yes, of course I’m happy. Why wouldn’t I be?” she smiled, but her smile was bitter. “I have a house, a car, a respectable husband, four beautiful and healthy children. Do you know how many people envy me? My parents, when they talk about me with their relatives, do so with their heads held high. What more could I ask for?” “But you’re not content,” I said bluntly.
“Happy,” she repeated the word as if it were some strange food. What does it mean to be happy? That’s life. Whoever you marry, in the end it all comes down to routine, to the little things of everyday life. Marcos doesn’t hit me, he doesn’t drink, he doesn’t have lovers, he brings home the money, he’s just a little demanding, a little strict. I’m the one who isn’t good enough, the one who doesn’t measure up. Her voice faded until it was almost inaudible.
“What does he demand of you?” I persisted. “That the house be spotless, that the children be well-behaved and respectful, that I take perfect care of him, that I control the expenses, that I stay in shape, that they don’t make him look ridiculous,” she began, counting on her fingers. As she did so, she let out a laugh that sounded more like a cry. “As you can see, it’s nothing out of the ordinary. These are things a woman is supposed to do. It’s not like I’m useless and can’t do them properly.”
Lucia, that’s none of your business. I took her hand. It was freezing. You’re wonderful. You’re the bravest, kindest girl I’ve ever known. You had excellent grades, so many ideas. That was before, she interrupted, letting go of my hand. She downed what was left in her glass in one gulp. Now I’m just Marcos’s wife, the mother of four children, nothing more. She stood up, a little unsteady. It’s late, let’s go to sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll see. She went upstairs.
Seeing her from behind, I felt a knot in my stomach. How could the radiant, passionate, and courageous woman I knew have become this? A woman who walked with leaden feet, cautiously, trapped in a seemingly perfect life, slowly losing herself. In the middle of the night, half asleep, I heard noises downstairs. It sounded like a door opening and stealthy footsteps. It must be Marcos; he’d come back. Immediately afterward, I thought I heard a quiet argument coming from the master bedroom.
I couldn’t understand what they were saying, but their tone was anything but pleasant. After a short while, silence returned, but it was a silence heavier than any sound. The next morning, the atmosphere was noticeably different. Marcos sat at the table, frowning, staring at his phone. Lucía’s eyes were a little puffy. She prepared breakfast in silence, with slower, more careful movements than the day before. The children, sensing the tension, didn’t even dare to breathe.
Breakfast passed in almost glacial silence. Marcos put down his cutlery and looked at Lucía. “Someone has touched the papers on my desk.” His voice wasn’t loud, but it was very cold. Lucía’s body shuddered. She turned pale. “It wasn’t me. I didn’t go into the office yesterday.” “Then why aren’t they where they belong?” He glared at her. “I told you not to enter my office without permission and not to touch my things.”
“You can’t believe it. I swear it wasn’t me.” Lucía’s voice sounded as if it were about to break. “Maybe it was the children. Children are very obedient, they wouldn’t have gone in there,” Marcos interrupted, glancing at his children, who lowered their heads in fear. Finally, his gaze fell on me for a moment. There was no expression on his face, but he quickly looked away. “I hope this is the last time,” he said to Lucía in a tone that brooked no argument.
“The rules of this house are for everyone to follow, including guests.” He said the last sentence in a neutral tone, but I understood the warning behind it. Are you with me, or was he just taking advantage of the situation? Lucía bit her lip, her eyes filled with tears, and nodded repeatedly. Marco stood up, grabbed his briefcase, and stopped as he reached the door. “Oh, by the way, my parents are coming for dinner tonight. Get everything ready.”
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