PART 2
Daniel held the phone up in front of us.
Adrian didn’t move, but I had been watching him for enough years to detect that small change: his jaw was tense, his fingers were slowly closing, his gaze was too calm.
It was the expression he used in a negotiation when someone had just discovered a card he intended to keep hidden.
« You’re drunk, » he said.
Daniel let out a dry laugh.
—That argument worked better for you when I was actually drinking.
He unlocked his phone and showed me a series of transfers.
I didn’t understand all the information at first.
Then I saw the company name.
AV Capital Holdings.
Adrian’s personal company.
Monthly payments.
Administration.
Maintenance.
Services.
They were all headed to an apartment in Brickell that I knew perfectly well.
It was the place Vera went to every time she argued with Daniel.
« Since when? » I asked.
Daniel swiped the screen.
—Three years and seven months.
Our marriage had lasted four years.
I turned towards Adrian.
-It’s true?
—It doesn’t mean what he’s trying to imply.
—Then tell me what it means.
—Vera needed a safe place.
Daniel laughed again.
—Of course. Because my wife was in terrible danger living in a mansion with six employees, private security, and three unlimited credit cards.
« Shut up, » Adrian ordered.
-No.
For the first time, I saw Daniel confront his brother without that mask of irresponsible son.
He approached.
« You’ve called me immature my whole life. A womanizer. A disgrace to the family. You know what? Maybe I am. But at least I never pretended to be the honorable man while I waited for my brother to destroy his marriage so I could stay close to his wife. »
Vera appeared at the end of the hallway.
His face was pale.
—Daniel…
He turned towards her.
—Perfect. You’re here.
—Don’t do this.
—What? Tell the truth?
Adrian took a step towards his brother.
—That’s enough.
—For you, it’s always enough when the questions get too close.
I raised a hand.
-No.
The three of them looked at me.
I felt a strange calm.
Perhaps because when a person has suffered for too long imagining the worst truth, there comes a moment when discovering it no longer hurts as much as continuing to doubt.
—I want to hear it.
Vera pressed her lips together.
—Clara, I think it would be best if we rested and talked tomorrow.
—I didn’t ask you what would be best.
It was the first time I saw genuine bewilderment on his face.
He had always treated me like a predictable woman.
The wife in love.
The jealous wife.
The wife who protested a little and then stayed.
That woman had disappeared.
I looked at Daniel.
—Continue.
He took a deep breath.
—The apartment is not in Adrian’s name.
-So?
Daniel looked at his brother again.
—It’s in Vera’s name.
I felt a slow chill run down my back.
Vera reacted immediately.
—It was a wedding gift from the family!
“No,” Daniel replied. “My wedding gift is in Coconut Grove. The Brickell apartment was bought six months after our wedding.”
He handed me the phone.
There was a copy of the record.
Adrian’s company had paid for the property.
Owner: Vera Lozano de Valdés.
I looked up.
—Six months after I married you.
Adrian spoke with irritation.
—I’ll explain it to you when we’re alone.
—We’ve been alone for four years, Adrián. You never explained anything to me.
Vera started to cry.
I couldn’t believe it.
In the midst of all that, she really started to cry.
—I didn’t want this to cause problems between you.
Daniel looked at her with a weariness he had never seen in her before.
-Oh really?
—You were constantly abandoning me.
—Because every time we argued you called my brother.
—Because he did listen to me!
-Exactly.
The word fell like a stone.
Daniel approached her.
—That was always the problem, Vera. You never married me to have me.
She stepped back.
Adrian intervened.
—Don’t talk like that.
Daniel pointed it out.
—And you stop acting like you’re her husband.
Adrian’s face hardened.
For the first time I felt that I was contemplating something that had been happening in front of me for years and that everyone, except me, knew about.
« Since when? » I asked.
No one answered.
—I asked how long this has existed between you.
Vera quickly denied it.
—There was never anything.
—I didn’t ask if they slept together.
The silence was even worse.
I looked at Adrian.
—I asked you when you started caring more about her than your own wife.
—Don’t dramatize.
I smiled.
Those two words had summed up our entire marriage.
Don’t dramatize.
When he left me alone in the emergency room after an accident because Vera had argued with Daniel: don’t dramatize.
When she cancelled our anniversary because she was sad: don’t dramatize.
When he forgot my birthday but remembered to buy Vera that bag she’d been looking for for months: don’t dramatize.
When my grandmother died and he reproached me for crying: don’t dramatize.
I grabbed my suitcase.
—You’re right. I’m not going to dramatize it.
I walked past him.
—My lawyer will contact you.
Adrian grabbed my arm.
Not with violence.
But I did have the certainty of someone who had never imagined that I could leave.
—Clara.
I looked at his hand.
—Let me go.
—Let’s talk.
—I’ve been trying to talk to you for four years.
—This time it’s different.
-Yeah.
I looked him in the eyes.
—This time I don’t plan to stay afterwards.
Something changed in his expression.
It was just a moment.
Fear.
Adrián Valdés felt fear.
But he hid it again immediately.
—You’re upset.
—I am perfectly calm.
—Tomorrow you’ll think differently.
—That’s what you’ve always believed about me. That I don’t know what I want.
I freed myself.
Daniel picked up the keys from a table.
—I’ll take you.
—It’s not necessary.
—It’s almost three o’clock.
Adrian reacted.
—You’re not going anywhere with her.
Daniel turned slowly.
-Sorry?
—You drank.
—The driver can take us.
—She is my wife.
Daniel smiled.
—For a few more weeks, it seems.
Adrian’s fist clenched.
Vera approached again.
—Adrián, leave her alone. If Clara needs time…
He turned around with unexpected harshness.
—Stay out of it.
Vera remained motionless.
Me too.
It was the first time she had seen him speak to her like that.
Unfortunately for him, he was four years too late.
I left in Daniel’s car.
For the first ten minutes, neither of them said a word.
Miami slept under the lights of the buildings, beautiful and oblivious.
I rested my head against the window.
I didn’t cry.
I was a little worried about not crying.
« Do you want us to stop? » Daniel asked.
-No.
—You can insult him if he helps you.
-I don’t want to.
—You can insult me too.
I looked at him.
—That I could do.
She smiled.
—Perfect. You look human again.
Daniel was five years younger than Adrian.
At family gatherings, he had always been the official disaster.
He was late.
She flirted with everyone.
He spent absurd amounts.
She had dropped out of two university degrees before finishing a third.
We had never spoken for more than ten minutes at a time.
—Why did you show me the apartment?
Her smile disappeared.
—Because I was tired.
—Really?
—From everyone.
He leaned back against the seat.
—My family has a very particular way of functioning. Adrián fixes the problems. My grandfather is in charge. My mother pretends not to see. I play the fool. And we are all happy as long as no one changes their role.
—And Vera?
—Vera learned how to use the system.
—Do you love her?
It took him a long time to reply.
-Ever.
I didn’t insist.
We arrived at the apartment that I had kept since before my marriage.
Daniel brought my suitcase down.
Before leaving, he said:
—Change the lock.
—Adrian has a key.
-Precisely.
I looked at him.
—Do you think he’ll come?
Daniel let out a humorless laugh.
—Clara, my brother has never lost something he considers his own.
He closed the trunk.
—He doesn’t know how to do it.
At eight in the morning, Adrian called.
I didn’t answer.
At eight past three he called again.
At eight past seven.
At eight twelve.
Then the messages started.
We need to talk.
Answer.
Don’t turn this into a spectacle.
At nine o’clock a different one appeared.
I’m going there.
Daniel was right.
I called the concierge.
—If Mr. Adrián Valdés asks for me, he cannot come up.
There was an awkward silence.
—Mrs. Valdés…
—Montiel.
-Sorry?
—Clara Montiel.
Saying my maiden name produced an unexpected feeling.
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