You Chose Another, Now Forget Me novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: Her Terms

Valeria walks into Emilio's office in front of his staff and calmly lists the house, cars and accounts that are hers; Rodrigo walks out with nothing and finds Inés waiting in the lobby holding his old drawing tube.

Valeria walked into Emilio's office at twenty past eight.

She did not knock.

She still wore the slate dress from the night before.

Her white coat was folded over her arm and her hair was tied back neatly.

Emilio's secretary stood up behind her and said, "Doctora, he's with a client."

"He's with my husband," Valeria said. "That's why I'm here."

She sat down in the chair beside mine and crossed her legs.

The glass wall of the office faced the open desks outside. Four people in the firm stopped typing.

"Emilio called you," I said.

"Emilio didn't have to. You were awake when I got in, and you didn't say a word."

She smiled at me gently.

"Rodrigo, what is this about?"

"You were in the car park last night."

"I was at the hospital. I'm a surgeon. It's where I work."

"I was there. I saw you kiss Iván."

She didn't look away.

"Iván lost a patient last night, a boy of nineteen on the table."

She tilted her head.

"He was falling apart, and I held him for one minute in a car park. Is that what you want to divorce me over?"

It was a very good answer.

If I hadn't seen her smile afterward, I might have believed it.

"Iván called you at the restaurant," I said. "The message said, 'Now. Please.' Emilio read it too."

Emilio coughed and looked at his blotter.

"A boy was dying," Valeria said. "Of course he called me."

"Then why did you come home after three?"

"Because I stayed with the boy's mother."

She said it without a pause.

I understood then that she had prepared every answer on the drive over, with a second answer ready behind each one.

"I want the papers drawn up today," I said to Emilio.

"No," Valeria said.

She said it softly, and she did not turn her head.

"I won't sign anything today. Or this week, if you keep it up. So let's talk about what you're actually leaving."

She counted on her fingers, one calm finger at a time.

"The house was my father's, and it's in my name. Both cars are in my name. The accounts are in my name."

She put one more finger up.

"The phone plan, your insurance, the card in your wallet. All mine."

She put her hand down.

"You haven't billed a client in five years, Rodrigo."

Her voice stayed even.

"You don't have an office. Who would you even call?"

The four people outside had stopped pretending to type.

One of them was looking at me with open pity.

I had cooked in that house for five years.

I had learned her schedule by heart and ironed her coats.

I had walked into a hospital ward with a sandwich when she missed lunch.

And she had just listed it all as a price.

"I don't want the house," I said.

Her expression flickered, only for a second.

"The house, the cars, the money," I said. "Keep them."

"Then what do you want?"

"To be the one who walks out."

Valeria looked at me for a long moment. Her voice dropped, so only Emilio and I could hear.

"You won't," she said. "You've never left anything in your life. You stay. It's what you do."

She stood and picked up her coat.

"Take the weekend," she said. "I have a valve replacement at ten. Come home tonight, and we'll pretend this morning never happened."

She kissed the top of my head in front of everyone.

At the door she turned and smiled at Emilio.

"You'll tell him he's being dramatic," she said. "You've known him ten years."

The glass door closed behind her. Through it, I watched her thank the secretary and walk out with her head high.

Nobody in the office moved until the elevator doors shut.

Emilio took his glasses off and set them on the desk.

"Rodri, I'm sorry. I should have told you. Last spring I saw her car outside Iván's building."

I looked at him.

"And you said nothing."

"I told myself it wasn't my business. I told myself you were happy." His voice cracked. "You weren't, were you?"

I didn't answer that.

"Draft it," I said. "Every word. I'll sign it today, and I'll walk it to her hospital myself if I have to."

"All right." He pulled a legal pad toward him. "Give me an hour."

"I'll wait outside."

I walked out through the open room, past four people who suddenly found their screens interesting.

Then I rode the elevator to the lobby.

I had no bag, no keys that were mine, and nowhere to sleep.

The lobby was quiet, with marble floors and one long bench by the window.

A woman sat on the bench with a long cardboard tube across her knees.

I knew the tube.

It had a strip of tape on the end, with my name on it in my own handwriting.

I had left it behind at a studio five years ago.

She stood up.

"Hello, Rodrigo," said Inés. "Emilio texted me when you walked in. I brought your drawings."

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