We deposited your share into your account. It's not much, but it will help you live for a few months while you look for something smaller. "My share?" I asked, keeping my voice calm. "Yes, Mom. Obviously, we weren't going to leave you with nothing. We gave you 30%. It's fair, isn't it? We need the money for the investment in Europe. Eduardo has an incredible business opportunity there."
30% of my own things. How generous. I understand, honey. And when are you leaving? This afternoon. We already have our suitcases packed. We'll be gone for at least six months, maybe longer if business goes well. But don't worry, Mom. When we get back, we'll help you find a small apartment, something that suits your needs.
Suits my needs, as if she knew what my needs were. Okay, Angela. Have a good trip. Oh, Mom, I knew you'd understand. You were always so understanding. We love you very much. And she hung up. I stood there with the phone in my hand and for the first time in months I laughed. I laughed like I hadn't laughed since Roberto died. The situation was so absurd it was comical
My daughter had stolen from me, kicked me out of my own house, spoken to me with unbearable condescension, all to finance a European adventure that would probably be a disaster. But what bothered me most wasn't the money; it was how easily she'd discarded me. Forty-five years of my life dedicated to her, of sacrifices, of unconditional love, and she'd erased me from her life with a two-minute phone call. That really hurt. I checked my online bank account
Indeed, they had deposited an amount that probably seemed generous to them, but to me was a joke. They had sold the beach house for far less than it was worth, surely because they needed the money quickly, and they had practically given Roberto's car away.
That afternoon, from my window, I saw Ángela and Eduardo loading suitcases into a taxi. He was carrying two enormous suitcases. She was carrying a travel bag that looked very expensive. I saw them laughing, kissing, making plans. They seemed like two teenagers excited for an adventure. They never turned toward my window, never said goodbye. When the taxi left, I sat in the kitchen with a cup of tea and Roberto's documents spread out on the table
I had to make decisions. I could call a lawyer, claim my properties, recover everything that had been taken from me. But something told me there was a better way to handle this, a more educational way. I called Jorge, the lawyer who had handled Roberto's affairs.
He had been present at the funeral, offered his condolences, and told me not to hesitate to call him if I needed anything. Well, now I needed him. "Ms. Antonia, it's so good to hear from you. How are you?" "Fine, Jorge. I need to see you urgently. I found some of Roberto's documents that I don't quite understand."
Of course, you can come to my office tomorrow morning. I'll be there. That night, for the first time in months, I slept soundly. I dreamed of Roberto. He was sitting in his favorite chair reading the newspaper as he did every morning. And when he saw me, he smiled and said, “It's about time, my love. It's about time you stood up for yourself.” I woke up with a strange feeling.
It wasn't exactly happiness, but it wasn't the sadness I had felt for so many months either. It was something like determination. For the first time since Roberto's death, I had a clear purpose. I was going to get back what was mine, but not in the way Angela expected. The next morning, I got ready more carefully than usual. I put on my wine-colored dress, the one Roberto always said made me look elegant.
I styled my hair, put on some makeup, and when I looked in the mirror, I saw a woman I hadn't seen in a long time. I saw a strong woman. Jorge's office was downtown. It was an old but elegant building, with marble floors and large windows
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