Chapter 6
Chapter 6: The Broken Man
The rainy season hit Mexico City with a vengeance, turning the streets into slick, reflective mirrors. I was sitting in the enclosed terrace of the Polanco house, sipping chamomile tea, when the front security gate intercom buzzed.
I glanced at the monitor. Standing in the pouring rain, without an umbrella, was Diego.
He looked unrecognizable. He had lost at least twenty pounds. His expensive tailored suit was gone, replaced by a soaked, faded jacket. He was shivering, staring up at the security camera with hollow, bloodshot eyes.
I pressed the talk button. "Why are you here, Diego?"
He jumped at the sound of my voice, looking around wildly before focusing on the speaker. "Laura... please. Just five minutes. Just let me stand under the awning. It’s freezing."
"Tell me what you want, or I'm calling the guards."
"Paola left me," he choked out, a sob breaking through his voice. "She took the last of the cash I had hidden in the apartment. She’s gone, Laura. She used me. She was using me the whole time."
"I know," I said coldly. "Everyone knew except you."
"I made a mistake. A horrible, catastrophic mistake. The vasectomy, the cafe... it was all her idea. She told me we could start over in Europe. Please, Laura. I still love you. This baby... it's my blood. I know I signed the waiver, but we can tear it up. Let me come home. Let me be a father."
I looked at the screen, expecting to feel anger, or perhaps a lingering shred of sorrow for the eight years we had shared. But all I felt was absolute, profound disgust.
"You didn't care about being a father when you left me crying on the bathroom floor," I said, my voice steady and unwavering. "You didn't care when you tried to make me pay for the dinners I cooked for you. You only care now because you have nowhere else to go."
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"Laura, please! I have nothing! I'm sleeping in my car!"
"Then I suggest you drive that car away from my house," I said. I shut off the intercom, pulled the curtains closed, and went back to my tea. Behind me, the steady, rhythmic kicking of my daughter reminded me exactly who I was protecting.
