Aurora.

Five in the morning. I wake up the same way I do every day. Making a nutritious breakfast for my family has always been my greatest satisfaction — I take care of every last detail when preparing their meals. I have three children. My eldest, Alfredo, graduated from high school and decided to strike out on his own. He's twenty-four now, living in the capital. The two still in my care are Juliana, twenty-two, and Nancy, sixteen. Each one is special in her own way. My little Nancy is allergic to peanuts, so I always have to be extra careful with her food. Juliana is picky about certain things, so I select every dish with her in mind. And then there's my dear husband, Jose Luna — I say husband, though we were never legally married. We've lived together for twenty-five years in a common-law union. He loves his coffee, and as always, I have it waiting for him at the table every morning.

He owns a mechanic's workshop. It's not exactly big, but he works hard every day to support us and make sure we want for nothing. My name is Aurora Manrique. I'm forty-four, and my husband is forty-five. We started from nothing when we were young, saving every last cent so he could have his own shop. I've been a full-time housewife, watching over his savings and making sure there was always a hot meal on the table for my family.

"Mom, I need to leave for the university. How is my breakfast not ready yet?" Juliana said.

"Mom, this is disgusting. How do you expect me to eat this?" Nancy glanced at her father. "Dad, can you give me extra money so I can eat something at school?"

"Of course, sweetheart," Jose said.

"Jose, make her eat it all. It's just scrambled eggs with toast," Aurora replied.

"Mom, I had that yesterday. Can't you come up with something different?" Nancy rolled her eyes. "Oh, and Dad — could you come to my school meeting instead? Mom always smells like onions and dresses awful. I'm embarrassed to tell people she's my mother."

Juliana laughed. "Now you get why I never wanted her showing up at school. She always dresses so outdated. Not like your friend's mom — she always looks great. I wish I had a mother like her."

"That's too bad for you two, but I'm your mother. And I do not smell like onions," Aurora said.

"We urgently need a new mother, Dad." Nancy grabbed her things and left.

Aurora looked at her husband, waiting for him to defend her against their daughters' attacks. But he just smiled, finished his coffee, and walked out without a word to his wife. This kind of behavior had become normal in their house. Sometimes she couldn't tell if she was actually the mother of her children and the woman of this house, or just an unpaid housekeeper in her own home. They had no luxuries — her daughters even attended public schools — but every dismissive word they spoke cut into her sensitive heart.

After cleaning the kitchen, she started tidying the house. She went into her eldest daughter's room and cleaned up the entire disaster, because Juliana would leave everything everywhere, even her sanitary pads — anywhere but the trash can. In her younger daughter's room, she picked up all the notebooks and textbooks. Nancy's diary was there too, the one where she wrote about the perfect mother she wished she had. There was even a photo of her friend's mother tucked inside — and in the picture, alongside this woman and her daughter, stood Jose and Juliana. That struck Aurora as strange. Jose never got involved with his daughters' friends, much less with their mothers.

She tried to make sense of what she was seeing. The photo looked like a family of five. Her husband was smiling. Lucia Sanchez was pressed close to him. Juliana beamed with happiness, and Nancy, who'd taken the selfie, was smiling too. It looked like they'd gone on an outing — an outing Aurora hadn't been invited to. On the back of the photo, in her youngest daughter's handwriting, were the words: "I wish she were my mom. Not this ugly mom I have."

Those words were devastating. A pain pierced her chest — not because of what she saw in the photo, but because of what her youngest daughter had written. The pain deepened because she had carried these girls in her womb for nine months, had raised and cared for them to the age they were now, and this was the reward she received — cruelty of the worst kind. Jose had forgotten something at home and came back. He called for his wife, asking her to bring it. Aurora came out with the photo in her hand and demanded an explanation. Her eyes were red with tears, and for the first time, that look made Jose feel enough to actually give her one.

"We took that photo when I went to pick up our daughter from a restaurant where she was with Jamilec's mother. Juliana was with me, so we took advantage of the moment and snapped a picture," Jose said.

"You're talking about Lucia? The mother of Nancy's best friend?"

"Yes. She works at Banco Pacifico. You know she's a single mother. That day she invited our daughter out, and we just went to pick her up. That's all. Dry those tears. We've been together twenty-five years — don't start doubting me."

"You promised me a wedding," Aurora said quietly. "And that promise still hasn't been kept. It's stayed nothing more than a promise. And sometimes... I feel you so far away from me."

"Woman, what do we need a wedding for? What matters is that we're together, we have our kids — isn't that enough for you? The shop isn't doing well, and spending money on a wedding right now doesn't make sense."

Jose kissed the crown of her head and left her standing there, lost in her thoughts. She still remembered the day she gave up every comfort of her family home to follow Jose's love — when he'd promised her a beautiful wedding that, to this day, he had never delivered. The years had passed and she was still waiting for that promise to come true. She went back to her chores, and while sorting his laundry, she found a motel receipt in the pocket of his pants.

"What is this?"

Meanwhile, at the workshop, Jose was already in his blue overalls and ready to work when his phone rang. He answered with a smile on his lips, joy lighting up his face. On the other end of the line was Lucia Sanchez, inviting him and his daughters to lunch. He accepted happily. But first, in that flirtatious voice of hers, she invited him over for a little appetizer before the meal. Jose grinned, ended the call, ordered his assistants to keep working, changed out of his overalls, and left the shop — heading straight for Lucia Sanchez's apartment, where she was waiting eagerly.

On the drive over, he called his daughters to let them know about the invitation. They accepted without a second thought for the effort their mother was putting into preparing the lunch they liked. Aurora never minded if she had to cook several different dishes — all that mattered to her was that her daughters had full bellies and were happy with the food.

Jose felt a pang of guilt about his wife, but the truth was she had stopped mattering to him as a woman a long time ago. She'd become nothing more than his housemate. He'd even saved her in his phone as "mother of my children."

Little did any of them know that two hours away, alone in his house, there sat a man who would one day steal the love of Aurora — the same Aurora that Jose, blinded by his mistress, had stopped caring about. Javier Mendoza, still disillusioned with life, sipped his glass of red wine and smiled bitterly, remembering the day he'd been abandoned at the altar more than twenty years ago.

Aurora was still fretting because the meal wasn't ready. She hurried to cook — her daughters and her husband would be home any minute. But when she glanced at the counter, that motel receipt caught her eye again, making it impossible to concentrate. She pulled out her phone, snapped a photo of it, and sent it to her husband with a demand for an explanation. She held out hope that he'd have a good reason for a receipt like that turning up in his pants pocket.

On the south side of the city, Jose saw his wife's message and ignored it. He climbed the stairs to the third floor and pressed the doorbell. The door swung open almost instantly, and the sight of the freshly showered woman — smelling wonderful — sent a rush of excitement through him. He pulled her close and kissed her deeply. There were still two hours before his daughters would arrive for the lunch invitation, so he didn't hesitate to strip her of her clothes. His desire for her was beyond comparison. He loved everything about her — how she never said no, how she was always willing, and above all, how perfectly they complemented each other in bed.

He was happy in the moments they spent together. Even his daughters approved of the relationship. But there was one obstacle standing in the way of his complete happiness: Aurora, the mother of his children, the woman of his youth. On several occasions he'd wanted to tell her the truth, but he'd never found the right moment.

Lying on the living room carpet, their naked bodies craving more, they made love again. When their bodies were finally spent and exhausted, they went to the shower together. Afterward, they waited for the girls. Nancy arrived half an hour later, greeting Lucia with a warm, affectionate smile. Juliana showed up a few minutes after that, bringing a gift. They all got along beautifully, as if they were mother and daughters.

Jose's heart swelled. He told himself that when he finally separated from his wife, his daughters would be on his side — and best of all, there'd be no resistance, since they already accepted Lucia as his woman.

"I have a gift too," Jose said.

"What is it, Dad? Come on, give it to her so we can see what you brought!" Nancy said.

Jose pulled out a small black velvet box and approached Lucia, who was smiling at him. He opened it. Inside lay a gold choker necklace with tiny diamond fragments. Lucia's eyes lit up, and she thanked Jose with a kiss on the lips. He fastened the beautiful piece of jewelry around her neck while his daughters clapped and called for another kiss from the couple.

"You look gorgeous, Lucia. That necklace was made for you," Juliana said.

"You look beautiful, Mom. Thank you, Uncle Jose, for spoiling my mother," Jamilec said.

"Lucia deserves to be spoiled. Congratulations to both of you, Dad," Nancy said.

Nancy had barely finished speaking when her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, then looked at her sister and father, her eyes telling them exactly who was calling. Juliana pulled out her own phone and turned it off — she didn't want her mother interrupting. Jose did the same. Nancy switched hers to silent. The moment was too nice and pleasant to be ruined by their mother.

"Who is it, friend? Does your uncle and you guys have to leave soon?" Jamilec asked.

"No, we're not leaving yet. Let's order ice cream and watch a movie," Jose said.

Because of how close she was to Jose, her best friend's father, Jamilec called him "uncle" — it made things feel more familiar. After lunch, they all settled into the living room. The ice cream arrived and they ate it while watching the movie. Jamilec and Nancy shared one sofa, Juliana sat alone in a single chair, and Jose reclined with his head on Lucia's lap on the largest couch. At a glance, it looked like a family of five enjoying a quiet afternoon together.

Meanwhile, back at the house, Aurora stood at the window watching for her family's return. She checked the clock obsessively. It was already past five in the afternoon, and she had no idea where they were. Worried, she started calling her daughters' friends and her husband's workers, but got no answers. She wanted to go out and look for them, but she didn't even know where to begin. Tears of worry started to fall. The meal she'd prepared had gone cold.

Night came and Aurora's worry deepened. She'd once heard her neighbor say that if you prayed with faith, everything you asked for in the name of Jesus would be given. Aurora remembered those words, and the only thing she wanted was for her family to come home safe. She knelt in the middle of the living room and prayed to the Creator through tears, pleas, and deep faith — asking that her family be all right.

While she was praying, she heard keys jingling. She smiled and scrambled to her feet, rushing to the door just as her daughters walked in laughing. The laughter vanished the moment they saw her, and they looked at her with disdain. Aurora, seeing that everyone had arrived together, smiled with emotion and reached out to hug her daughters — only to be immediately rejected.

"Mom, we haven't even gotten through the door and you're already being clingy," Nancy said.

"I was worried because you weren't home. Look how late it is — it's already dark out," Aurora said.

"For God's sake, Mom, stop the drama. We're fine," Juliana said.

"Where were you, Jose?" Aurora asked.

"We went to the movies and got ice cream. We didn't invite you because the way you dress embarrasses us. Stop interrogating Dad with your questions," Juliana said.

When Jose saw her swollen, tear-streaked eyes, he let out a deep sigh. He considered his wife overly dramatic, and it genuinely annoyed him. He didn't bother giving her an explanation. He pulled off his jacket and tossed it onto the couch in irritation, then coldly asked for water — an order Aurora obeyed at once, bringing the glass to where he sat.

"Sweetheart, why didn't you let me know? I was so worried," Aurora said.

"The girls already told you — they wanted to go to the movies, so I took them, and then we got ice cream. You know what, Aurora? Don't you ever get tired of making a scene? You've got the girls sick of it. Let us breathe. Find something to do with yourself. I'm going to take a shower — I'm exhausted," Jose said.

"Aren't you going to eat? I can make something hot and quick," Aurora said.

"Don't worry about me, I'm not hungry. Ask the girls if they want to eat your food," Jose said.

Aurora pressed the empty glass against her chest. Her family grew colder toward her with every passing day. She even wondered if maybe she was the one overreacting. Feeling guilty for showing so much concern, she lowered her head, wiped her tears, and went to her daughters' rooms. To her dismay, they also refused her food. Frustrated and heartbroken, she went to the kitchen, packed all the food she'd prepared into trays, found some plastic bags, and left the house. Two blocks away lived a young widow with three small children — the oldest was barely twelve. It wasn't the first time her family had rejected her meals. Aurora had brought food to that struggling household before.

With her own hands, she reheated the food on the stove, and together with the young widow they served the plates. Aurora ate dinner with them. Helping people in need was her greatest joy. The children happily devoured her cooking, and she smiled while the young widow thanked her.

After dinner with the widow and her children, Aurora said goodbye with a contented heart. The meal she'd worked so hard to prepare — the one her own family had scorned — had fed a family in need who hadn't hesitated to eat it. When she arrived back at the house, everything was silent. Even the lights were off, as if no one cared whether she came home or not. She smiled and sat down in the dark, empty living room. Her family was home, but loneliness was what reigned inside her. Everyone was off doing their own thing.

Still, she had to keep going — to give them the space they demanded. How she missed her eldest son. He'd always been attentive and affectionate with her. After sitting in thought for a while, she decided to take a shower. She went into the bedroom where Jose was reading a book. Without a word, she grabbed a towel and stepped into the bathroom. For the past ten months, her husband had been ignoring her existence.

Aurora was not an unattractive woman. Despite having had three children, she maintained a slim, curvy figure. Her abdomen was a little soft, with small rolls when she sat, but her long chestnut hair fell like a waterfall down her back. Her fair skin and amber eyes made her beauty stand out even without makeup. She came out of the shower wrapped only in a towel. She went to the wardrobe and found a nearly transparent silk nightgown. She dropped the towel, standing naked in front of her husband, hoping to get his attention. But he just glanced at her and went back to his book.

Aurora wasn't about to give up. The nightgown was sexy — her breasts were visible through the sheer fabric. She climbed into bed and began insinuating herself toward Jose, pressing close to him, practically invading his side of the mattress. She smelled wonderful. But Jose stayed focused on his reading, ignoring her presence. There were days when his wife's very existence irritated him, and this was one of those days.

"Honey," Aurora said softly.

"Mmm," Jose murmured.

"Don't you want to be intimate? It's been months since we've done anything."

"I'm tired. You should go to sleep," Jose said.

He pulled the blanket over himself and turned his back to her. Aurora sighed, trying to suppress the longing. She was a human being — she had needs too. She found her side of the bed and let her tears fall in silence. Her emotions were connected body and soul, and she felt her fragile body couldn't withstand so much pain from her family's lack of love. Even sharing a bedroom and a bed, her husband's coldness made her feel utterly alone. She was convinced he no longer loved her the way he once had. For more than two years he'd been cold with her. When they did have sex, Jose would finish quickly, leaving her wanting — without the release of dopamine, the hormone that brings pleasure during intimacy. There were no more caresses, no more kisses on the mouth. He no longer took pleasure in her body. He'd finish and get up, heading straight for the bathroom as if he wanted to wash her scent off his skin.

She dried her tears and, clutching her pillow, fell asleep from sheer exhaustion. The next morning, her routine continued. She rose early to make breakfast for her daughters and a good cup of coffee for her husband. When the girls came to the dining table, the delicious meal was laid out and waiting. This time, Aurora didn't speak and didn't sit at the table. She stood leaning against the kitchen counter, watching her cold family. They didn't complain about or criticize the breakfast either. When Jose arrived, he noticed there was no plate set at his wife's spot.

Their eyes drifted toward the kitchen, where they found her leaning against the counter, choosing not to join them. He didn't give the attitude much importance. He chatted with his daughters, and when breakfast was done, he left the usual money for the weekly groceries. Then they all walked out without saying goodbye to her. Aurora felt like just another piece of furniture in her own home.

She flung the rag in her hand onto the counter and went to the window to watch her family leave without so much as a farewell. Through the curtains, she saw them go. She collected the dishes from the table, carried them to the sink, and cleaned the bedroom. In the pocket of her husband's pants, she found a receipt from a jewelry store listing the price of a gold choker necklace with diamond fragments. The cost was substantial, and a smile spread across her face. Her birthday was in a week, and she thought her husband had spent a great deal of money on a gift for her.

He still cares about me. What a fool I am, putting stupid ideas in my own head. He almost always forgets my birthday — but I think this time he won't. She smiled.

With the tender smile that always characterized her, she continued cleaning the house. It was time for the younger daughter's room. As usual, it was a mess — clothes strewn across the floor. She started picking things up, and when she tugged at a coat, a new framed photo belonging to her daughter fell and shattered on the ground.

"What is this..."

It was a photo of her family together with the mother of her youngest daughter's best friend — as if they were a happy family of five. Aurora didn't have a single recent photo with her now-teenage daughters. Only her husband did. She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes, which stung as tears escaped. Now she felt excluded from the life of her sixteen-year-old daughter.

But then she smiled, remembering that receipt. She imagined the thoughtful gesture her daughters and husband must be planning. Her eldest daughter's room was locked. She went for the keys, and just as she was about to open it, the front door swung wide. It was Juliana — she'd forgotten her phone and had to come back in a taxi.

"What are you doing, Mom?" Juliana asked.

"I was going to tidy your room," Aurora said.

"I've told you not to go into my room — not today, Mom." Juliana took a breath. "I didn't make a mess. You can clean when I tell you to. Now I need you to step away."

Juliana went into her room and shut the door practically in her mother's face. She didn't want Aurora to see a portrait of her father with Lucia that Juliana herself was painting for them — a gift for their second anniversary as a couple. If her mother discovered the portrait, Juliana was sure she'd make a scene, as usual.

It's coming along so nicely. I'm not going to let Mom ruin it, Juliana thought.