“Lucia, this is no time
“Of course it’s time,” I replied, without looking at her. I’ve been waiting for five years.
Diego moved awkwardly in his chair.
“Don’t put trouble with this.
“Problems?” I looked at him for the first time. Asking for what is mine is a problem?
Camila leaned forward.
“You’re looking really bad.
“Worse I look now,” I replied, pointing to my hair soaked in broth.
A pause.
His eyes hardened.
And then he did.
He took the soup plate next door.
And he dumped it on me.
Straight.
Without hesitation.
The hot liquid hit me like a slap.
And the table… burst into laughter.
I went back to the present.
There I was.
Soaked.
Engraved.
Humiliated.
But not quiet anymore.
I lowered my hand slowly.
I looked at Camila.
And I smiled.
Not a big smile.
Not kind.
A small one.
Easy.
That didn’t fit the scene.
She frowned.
“What’s wrong with you?”
I tilted my head slightly.
“Nothing,” I said quietly. I was just thinking…
I took a napkin. I wiped my face calmly.
Then I looked up, fixed on it.
“…that I wish you enjoyed your birthday.
A pause.
“Because tomorrow… you may no longer have anything to celebrate.
The laughter on the table slowly went out.
Diego looked at me.
What does that mean?
I didn’t answer.
I just turned, walked to the kitchen, leaving behind the growing murmur.
But inside me, something was already underway.
Something that had been forming for years.
And this time…
I didn’t plan to stop him.
The kitchen door closed behind me with a dry knock that, for the first time in five years, didn’t make me shrug. Outside, the voices began to rise in tone, first in murmurs, then in uncomfortable questions, in that kind of noise that appears when someone says something that does not fit the script.
I put my hands on the edge of the sink. The water was still leaking. I opened the key and let it run, as if the sound could clean up what had just happened.
But not.
The smell was still there.
The heat attached to the skin.
And the laughter… still resounding.
I closed my eyes for a second.
Five years.
Five years swallowing everything.
And yet… when I looked up at the opaque reflection of the glass, I didn’t see the woman who came to this house. That one was gone. The one who was there… was no longer afraid.
I heard steps.
Diego.
“Lucia,” he said, going in. What was that?
I didn’t turn.
“What part?” I replied. The soup… or the five years?
He was silent.
“It wasn’t that big,” he murmured. Camila overreached, yes, but so did you—
I turned.
“So too what?”
He could not respond immediately.
You’re creating a problem where there isn’t.
I let go of a low laugh.
“Sure. Because they humiliate me in front of everyone… it’s no problem.
“They didn’t humiliate you
I looked at him.
Straight.
And he stopped.
Because in my eyes there was no longer that thing he knew.
