This Time, I Choose Me. novel · Chapter 1 of 12
Chapter 1: The Investor
I was showing the Valle de Bravo hotel model when the conference room door opened and my husband walked in.
I wasn't expecting him.
He'd been away from home for three weeks, on "business trips," and that morning he hadn't even texted me.
He stopped in the doorway, in his navy suit and the anniversary tie, the one I'd given him.
Behind him came Bárbara Ledezma.
My heart sank into my stomach.
Bárbara wore a perfect beige dress, her brown hair loose over her shoulders, a folder tucked under her arm.
She looked fresh, confident, like she owned the place.
She smiled at me.
"Sorry we're late, Itzel. The traffic on Reforma."
There were forty people in the room.
The fund's bankers, the two architects from my team, the receptionist, and Toña, my business partner, sitting in the corner with her brow furrowed.
Everyone turned to look at the couple who had just walked in.
I was holding the laser pointer, still on.
"Abel," I said.
He walked to the head of the table and put his hand on my shoulder.
"Go on. I want everyone to meet the new partner of Estudio Montaño."
I stared at him.
"What partner?"
"Me."
There was a silence.
The pointer trembled in my hand.
The red dot danced across the model, then across the wall.
"Grupo Sanabria," Abel continued in a soft voice, like someone explaining something simple, "just acquired thirty percent of the studio. It's an investment we've been preparing for months."
Toña let out a strangled sound.
I couldn't breathe.
Four years married to that man.
He'd never said a word to me.
"And to ensure the project's success," he added, "we've asked Bárbara Ledezma to join as creative director."
Bárbara lowered her head with feigned modesty.
"Itzel has enormous talent," she said, looking at me. "She just needs guidance sometimes."
Someone coughed.
One of the bankers tilted his head to hide a smile.
I felt the heat rise up my neck, to my ears.
For four years I'd seen Bárbara at every Sanabria dinner, every anniversary, every photo in Doña Genoveva's living room.
Abel's first girlfriend.
The youthful love who never stopped being his family's favorite.
I'd competed with her for a seat at the table, for an invitation to Cancún, for a glance from my mother-in-law.
This time she was competing for my studio.
And I was finding out in front of forty witnesses.
"Itzel," Abel said, lowering his voice. "Sign. It's all ready."
He pushed a black folder and a silver pen toward me.
The folder had my name printed on the cover.
I looked at the pen.
I thought of my grandmother, of the house in Oaxaca, of the mornings she taught me to draw plants with a stubby pencil.
I thought of the girl who slept over blueprints in a boarding house in La Del Valle at nineteen, with just enough money for the bus.
I thought of all the times I told Abel "I love you" and he answered "me too," without looking at me.
I set the pointer down on the table.
I turned off the light.
"No."
Abel blinked.
"Excuse me?"
"I'm not signing."
"Itzel, don't do this here."
"Where would you prefer? At home, where you haven't shown up in three weeks? Or in Doña Genoveva's living room?"
One of the bankers cleared his throat.
"We could take a recess..."
"That won't be necessary, thank you."
I stood up.
My hands were burning, but my voice came out steady, almost calm.
"Good morning, everyone. Today's presentation is canceled. Thank you for coming."
Bárbara stepped forward.
"Itzel, don't be dramatic. This is an opportunity for everyone."
"For you."
"For the studio."
"The studio is not for sale."
"It already is," Abel said, his tone unchanged. "You signed the letter of intent two months ago."
My blood ran cold.
I remembered some papers among a pile of invoices, on a very busy day, that Abel had put in front of me with the excuse of an insurance policy.
"Two months," I repeated.
"Yes."
"You lied to me for two months."
"I was helping you."
I said it without thinking.
"Abel, four years ago you told me you'd help me become part of your family. What you actually did was show me where the door was."
A murmur ran through the room.
Toña stood up with her arms crossed.
Abel turned red.
"We're married."
"Not for much longer."
I turned to face the forty faces.
I wanted to cry, but I held it in.
"If anyone here ever wondered why Estudio Montaño never dares to win, now you know why: because every time I tried, my own family was on the other side of the table."
I grabbed my bag.
"Abel. You'll have the divorce papers tomorrow."
"Itzel..."
"This time, I choose myself."
I walked out the door with my heart in my throat.
Toña caught up with me in the hallway.
"Girl..."
"Don't say anything."
"I was just going to say that was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life."
I laughed, and a sob slipped out.
At the reception desk I heard footsteps behind me.
Abel caught up with me by the elevator.
He grabbed my elbow.
"Itzel. Listen to me for a second."
"Let go of me."
"You can't just leave like this."
"Look at me."
"I already transferred the money," he said in a low voice. "Thirty percent of your studio is mine."
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