The accusations.
The mistress.
The social media post.
The coercive divorce agreement.
The ultrasound room.
The twins.
When
I finished, she said only one thing.
“Do not sign anything he gives you, and do not meet him alone.”
“I won’t.”
“Good. Send me every message, every post, every document, and the ultrasound report. We are going to control the story with facts.”
Facts.
The word felt like clean water.
By midnight, Diego had called twelve times.
I did not answer.
He sent messages.
Laura, please. I panicked.
We need to talk for the babies.
I never meant for things to go this far.
Then:
My mother is upset. Please don’t tell people about the twins yet.
There it was.
Not love.
Not remorse.
Management.
I replied once.
All communication goes through my attorney.
Then I blocked him.
The next morning, I woke to banging on the front door.
