THE WOMAN IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BED
A chill crawled up my spine.
“Tell who?”
She glanced nervously toward the doorway.
Then she answered.
“Esteban.”
Chapter 2: Cracks in the Perfect Image
I wanted to laugh.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was impossible.
Esteban had been my husband for eleven years.
He was respected by everyone who knew him.
He worked hard.
He treated me kindly.
He was the man I trusted most in the world.
Yet when I looked at Lucía, I saw genuine terror.
Not jealousy.
Not confusion.
Fear.
That day, I began watching more carefully.
I noticed things I had ignored before.
How Lucía immediately left a room whenever Esteban entered.
How she avoided being alone with him.
How she always locked her bedroom door.
How she flinched whenever he unexpectedly touched her shoulder.
The signs had been there all along.
I simply hadn’t wanted to see them.
Chapter 3: Lucía’s Confession
That night, Lucía came into our bedroom again.
Esteban fell asleep quickly.
Or pretended to.
Hours later, when his breathing became steady, Lucía turned toward me.
“There is something I have to tell you.”
My stomach tightened.
“What is it?”
She closed her eyes.
“The night before my wedding, Esteban came to see me.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
“He said he wanted to welcome me to the family.”
Her voice broke.
“But that wasn’t why he came.”
A terrible feeling settled in my chest.
“What happened?”
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“He touched me.”
I felt as though the room had vanished.
The walls.
The bed.
The air.
