Chapter 5

I woke up almost at noon, still feeling the weight of the night before in my body. From the kitchen came the smell of food — he was cooking. I sighed. I didn’t want to drag out that fight, but I knew it was inevitable.

I got up, made the bed that he never bothered to straighten out, and gathered the clothes scattered on the floor — all his. In the bathroom, I washed my face and sat on the toilet, using my morning moment to think about life. The issue was always the same: I had an unhappy marriage. I loved Tommy, sure, but he didn’t pitch in at all. And the accusation from yesterday was still pounding in my head.

I knew I was wrong, I wasn’t crazy, but I hadn’t slept with Fernando either. What hurt me the most wasn’t the argument, but the fact that instead of defending me, he chose to believe what they said. I’d never given him reasons to be suspicious, never done anything to make him doubt me… until yesterday.

After brushing my teeth and taking another shower, I went to the living room to grab my phone and check the latest notifications. As soon as I opened my purse, I felt something off — my phone wasn’t in the inner pocket where I always kept it. I frowned. Tommy must have poked around. That wasn’t new between us; he knew my passwords and never hesitated to snoop.

I grabbed the phone and, when I unlocked it, saw a message from Manu:

“Tell me, did you make it home okay? I was worried, you drank too much.”

I sighed. Knowing Manu, that was a ploy for me to use as a defense, a way to reinforce that I hadn’t done anything wrong. And, apparently, it worked. Tommy probably saw the message while I was asleep. Another point against him.

I stopped at the kitchen door and watched him cook — the only thing he ever did around the house. He noticed me there, but pretended not to see.

Without saying a word, I went back to the bedroom, grabbed the laundry basket, and passed by him again, carrying the weight of all the piled-up clothes, hoping he’d notice the obvious: I was doing the chores he ignored.

He glanced over, but kept stirring the pot, like it was no big deal.

“I’ll do your chores to help you out, okay, babe?” I shot out, loaded with sarcasm.

No response. He just kept cooking, like my words had vanished into thin air.

I threw each piece of clothing into the washer like I was punching his face. My breathing got heavy, my eyes burned, and before I knew it, tears of pure rage were streaming down my face. Why was my life such a mess? Why, when everything started to go right, did the good stuff fall apart?

It wasn’t about money. It never was.

My legs were shaking, and an insane urge to scream, smash everything, kill someone took over my body. I tried to swallow it down, hold back the explosion, but then I heard his voice, cold and casual, like none of it mattered.

“See how you are? You fuck up, and you’re the one who gets pissed off and out of control. In the end, it’s always about you, right? You never see how selfish you are?”

The words hit like a bomb, exploding inside me before I could react.

“And before you start,” he went on, not even giving me time to breathe, “I already know what your next move will be. You’ll say you pay for everything, that I’m useless and don’t help with shit. I know how you are. I know you.”

I had the right words. I knew exactly what I should say. But nothing came out. I just stood there, frozen, staring at that calm face, that indifferent expression, like he was just stating the obvious.

And then he sealed it.

“If you feel good fucking other people, go right ahead. Just do me a favor and hide it well, so no one points at me on the street calling me a cuckold.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Flip-flops, wallet, phone. That’s all I could think. If I stayed there one more second, I’d crumble. I walked past him without looking, without saying a word. Grabbed what I needed and walked out the door like the world didn’t exist anymore.

I was in my stay-at-home clothes: baggy flannel shorts and a shirt that covered everything, my sleepwear. No bra, no panties. Hair a mess, face hot with anger and humiliation. I walked down the street like a lunatic, heart pounding in my chest, eyes burning. I called an Uber without thinking. Tapped any option on the screen, not even knowing where I wanted to go. Manu was my last ride, so that’s where I headed. After all, when you don’t know where you want to go, anywhere will do.

The driver kept eyeing me in the rearview mirror, concerned.

“Miss, you okay? Need anything? Want to go to the police? The hospital?”

I gave a weak, lifeless smile.

“No, sir… Just a bad day.”

He didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t push.

When I got to Manu’s building, I asked the doorman to buzz her. My chest was heaving fast, my head spinning. A few minutes later, I went up.

She opened the door and her eyes went wide when she saw me.

“Oh my God! Did he hit you?”

I collapsed.

In Manu’s arms, I broke down. I was crying so hard I could barely breathe, chest tight, head spinning. I tried to explain between sobs, but the truth was I barely knew what I was saying. At some point, the anxiety attack took over completely, and everything got jumbled.

She hugged me tight, and after a while just said:

“Take this pill and go to bed. Rest. I’ll handle it.”

Manu was a problem-solver. And that’s exactly what she did. She listened, calmed me down, gave me a sedative.

I woke up at night, groggy. The bedroom light was dim, and the smell of pizza filled the air.

“Boss, get up, I ordered pizza.”

I forced myself to sit up. I grabbed my phone and saw over twenty notifications. I sighed deep and handed the phone to Manu. She glanced at it and got it right away — she did that all the time at work.

“Aside from your dad freaking out because you vanished, the rest is all him trying to find you. Want me to call?”

“Better let him know… I’m not irresponsible like him.”

She didn’t hesitate, already dialing.

“Tommy? Everything okay, handsome?”

“Yeah… Manu?”

“Yeah, hotshot! Look, I’m just calling to let you know the boss is staying at my place, okay?”

On the other end, he huffed.

“Let me talk to her…”

“Well, you two can’t talk right now. But as soon as possible, she’ll get back to you, okay?”

“Seriously, Manu? You pulling your telemarketing shit now?”

“Sorry for the inconvenience, cutie.”

There was a silence, and then he let out, in that voice loaded with resentment:

“You already know she cheated on me yesterday with Fernando, right?”

Manu laughed. Just laughed, a low, amused sound, like he’d told the dumbest joke in the world.

“So, sweetie… You really dropped the ball last night. Fernando was with Carla. Remember Carla? Yeah. Whoever fed you that gossip got everything wrong, sweetie. Honestly, I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes right now.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry, okay?”

And she hung up.

That woman’s sass made me laugh. Manu had a way of handling things that made everything lighter, and in that moment, it gave me a ridiculous boost. I got up, remembering I was starving, and we headed to the table.

We ate the pizza between laughs, replaying how she talked to Tommy, imitating her dramatic, sassy voice. But then, in a moment of silence, she got thoughtful, twirling the rim of her glass between her fingers.

“Girl, who was the asshole who told him they saw you leaving with Fernando?”

I made a face, still chewing.

“I don’t know. No clue.”

“Think it wasn’t Fernando to screw you over at work? That’s just like him…”

I shook my head.

“He hates Fernando, I don’t think he’d go up to Tommy like, ‘Hey, I’m banging your wife.’”

“It’s just Clara and me. I didn’t… leaves Clara.”

“Dude, it could be anyone who saw us leaving.”

Manu looked at me seriously, crossing her arms.

“But, girl… that was straight-up malicious. You gotta find out who it was.”

I sighed, rubbing my temples.

“Fernando has a million ways to mess me up at work if he wanted. He’s more subtle than that, he’s smart. And honestly, that wouldn’t change anything professionally, doesn’t make sense it was him. Same with Clara.”

“But…”

I glanced sideways. I knew a bomb was coming.

“But what, girl?”

She laughed mischievously, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“But you did cheat.”

I huffed, tossing a piece of pizza at her.

“Shut up! It doesn’t count with a woman.”

“Tell that to him.”

I crossed my arms, laughing nervously.

“If I tell him, he’ll flip right away. His dream is a threesome.”

Manu went wide-eyed and threw up her hands like she was already backing out.

“Yeah, girl, but I’m out on this one.”

I grinned, naughty.

“Shut up. Up until yesterday, you were ‘out’ on women too.”

She looked at me for a second, then laughed.

“True!”

We locked eyes for a moment, and then I let it out, almost casually:

“But no hard feelings if we keep… just talking…”

The silence that followed said a lot.