A Sad Birthday

I watched Mati standing in front of the candles on his birthday cake.

We were at Rodrigo's grandfather's house.

It was his fourth birthday, and the grandfather had insisted on throwing him a party.

There was a mountain of gifts. My mother and her husband stood in a corner.

The look on my mother's face said everything, and I avoided her.

"Grandpa, where's my daddy?"

The old man walked over with his cane.

"Who needs that grouch? You've got your grandpa and your mom right here. You know your father has a lot of business to take care of."

He ruffled Mati's hair.

My son nodded and blew out the candles.

The door opened and Rodrigo's assistant walked in.

Behind him, staff members carried in more gifts — toy cars in every size and color, a bicycle, and more things I couldn't bring myself to look at. Every year it was the same. The first time, Mati had jumped up and down with excitement, but now he knew what the gifts meant. His father wasn't coming.

He took a bite of cake, climbed down from the chair, and walked to me.

"Mommy, I'm sleepy. I wanna go home."

I went to say goodbye to the grandfather, who hugged me and leaned down to talk to his great-grandson.

"My driver will take you."

I carried my son out, but before we could reach the car, I heard footsteps behind me. My mother.

I buckled Matias into the car, shut the door, and walked over to where she stood waiting. Conversations with my mother never ended well.

"You know it's your fault that boy suffers, right?"

"What?"

She grabbed my arm.

"You crawled into your brother-in-law's bed and thought you'd trap him with a baby. He loves Olivia. Do the boy a favor — talk to the old man, convince him to let Rodrigo divorce you."

"I already tried. Don't think I haven't."

I had. I'd begged the grandfather just today.

"Not hard enough. If you manage to get the divorce, I'll give you thirty percent of everything I have."

She always said the same thing, but the percentage kept shrinking. That wasn't what I wanted anyway. All I wanted was my son's happiness. As for love, as for men — I'd stopped thinking about that a long time ago.

"Mrs. Cecilia, Mr. Rodrigo returns from his business trip tomorrow. Please go back to the property. It's too late to be out."

My mother let go of my arm. I walked back to the car, where my son was already half asleep.

I unbuckled his seatbelt and lifted him into my arms. Through the window, I caught my mother's face breaking into a smile as the assistant handed her a message.

I went back to Rodrigo's house. There were days I wanted to run — to escape with the only thing that mattered to me.

My son.

But I had no money. When I found out I was pregnant, I had to stop working, and every plan I'd made for independence went up in smoke.

I carried Mati up to his room, decorated in bright colors. That was another thing I tried not to think about — he was used to luxury. Every week, designer clothes arrived for him, the latest brands, the newest styles. He had everything except a father.

I took off his shoes and kissed his forehead.

I walked to the master bedroom and found my pajamas.

I took a quick shower without wetting my hair, dried off, and slipped on my robe.

I lay down to sleep. Then the door slammed open, and I shot upright, my heart hammering. Rodrigo stood in the doorway, arms crossed.

No tie. Hair disheveled. Serious, as always.

"It'd be so easy for you to just leave. Then my grandfather would have to accept the divorce."

I nodded, a flicker of hope sparking in my chest.

"Okay. I can do it right now—"

He cut me off.

"You leave alone. With nothing."

"I don't care about anything here." I made that clear, but he interrupted me again.

"Without Matias."