Instead of protecting me, Daniel brought me to his parents’ home in San Pedro.
They called it a family discussion. It felt more like a verdict. His mother, Beatriz, sat at the head of the table, calm and composed, as if we were discussing property, not people.
“There’s no reason to argue,” she said evenly. “Both pregnancies will continue. Whoever gives birth to a boy will remain part of this family.” The room went silent. I felt my chest tighten.
My value had been reduced to biology. I turned to Daniel, waiting for him to say something. Anything. He stayed quiet. That silence told me everything.
Chapter 4. The Decision
That night, I stood alone by the window of the house I once believed was my home. I wasn’t angry. I was clear. I realized that even if I stayed, I would never belong.
My child would grow up surrounded by comparison, resentment, and conditions.
The next morning, I went to city hall. I requested a legal separation. I signed the papers with trembling hands — not from fear, but from the weight of choosing myself.
When I walked out, tears came freely. But beneath them was relief.
Chapter 5. Starting Over
