He was still sleeping in the bed. As if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t broken my heart in front of my eyes a few hours earlier.
I looked at the screen. Number unknown. A message.
“I’m sorry you had to go through this. But you have to see that. »
There was a photo underneath.
At first, I didn’t understand what I was seeing. The image was blurry, taken from a distance. It looked like an office.
Two people sitting in front of the same secretary. I zoomed in. And my soul collapsed.
It was him. My husband. But the photo was old.
Maybe from two years ago. He was in the process of signing papers. And on the other side of the desk was… My father.
My father died a year and a half ago. A sudden heart attack, they said. It had destroyed me.
I was his only daughter. I had inherited everything: his business, his property, his savings. A fortune that I had not asked for and that crushed me.
But in this photo, my father was alive. And he was with him. With the man who had just humiliated me on the night of our wedding.
Pode ser uma imagem de casamento
How was this possible? Why were they together? My hands were shaking so much that I almost dropped the phone.
I looked at the image again. The papers on the desk. The date in a corner of the document.
March 15. Two months before my father’s death. Another message arrived.
“Your father changed his will that day. Everything you inherited was to be yours ONLY if you got married before you were 30. Otherwise, everything would go to a foundation.
Your husband knew it. Your father told him. And he prepared everything.
»
I felt the air escape from my lungs. It was not possible. But as I read, everything fell into place.
Every piece. Every lie. I met Damián exactly eight months ago.
It was in a café. I was alone, drinking tea, trying not to think about the emptiness
I had felt since my father died. He had sat down at the next table.
He smiled at me. He asked me if he could share my table because there was no room elsewhere. We had talked for hours.
He was charming. Funny. Attentive.
He listened to me like no one had done for months. He made me laugh. He was bringing me back to life.
We had started dating. Everything had been fast. Too fast, now that I think about it.
After three weeks, he told me he loved me. After a month and a half, he introduced me to his mother. After four months, he asked me to marry him.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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