Chapter 2

I stood there in the dark, watching the phone screen light up and fade, over and over, my heart feeling as if it was being dragged down by someone's hand.

Later, James‌ wiped the chat history clean. Then he turned it around and called me paranoid. He ranted I was sitting at home all day, overthinking everything.

Camila snapped me out of my daze. "Laura, he says you two don't belong together anymore." She looked at me like she was about to play her biggest card. "He says he wants a divorce," she finished quietly.

The air suddenly turned icy.

I could hear Teresa flipping through her book in her room. It was her workbook. She was in third grade, always working hard, but math was her weak spot. She'd often be up at her desk until ten at night.

"Do you know he has a daughter?" I asked Camila.

"Yeah." She nodded. "He really loves her."

I stayed quiet for a long time.

Camila started to fidget. "Mrs. Garcia, please don't misunderstand." She squeezed the tissue tighter. "I'm not here to fight you for anything. I only think we're all miserable, so maybe..."

"Maybe I should step aside and let you two have each other?" I finished for her.

Her cheeks turned red, but she stayed silent.

I heard a car engine rumble from outside. I knew it was James‌ coming home.

As the key turned in the lock, my heart raced.

The door opened. He strode in, rocking a sharp suit and a blue tie, not a hair out of place.

Standing next to Camila in that outfit, he looked like her perfect match.

"Camila, what are you doing here?" James‌ spotted her the moment he entered, his tone surprised and a little annoyed, but with a tenderness he couldn't hide.

I stood off to the side, like a ghost no one noticed.

"I wanted to come over and talk to Laura," Camila said sweetly. "We've pretty much covered everything."

James‌ said, "Why bother talking to her? Appreciate you taking care of it."

He'd never said those words, "Appreciate you," to me not once in all these years.

He walked over and brushed her hair aside. "Did you feel mistreated in my home?"

I stared at his hand.

That hand used to hold mine, waiting with me outside the delivery room during contractions.

That same hand had pushed me away in disgust, saying I had no femininity at all.

Now, it rested gently on another woman's lower back. I suddenly felt like this home had nothing to do with me anymore.

"So, how did it go?" James‌ finally looked at me, his voice and gaze icy.

My throat tightened. So many words were swirling in my chest.

I wanted to say I've been cooking and cleaning for this family for ten years.

I wanted to say that after your father had a stroke, I was the one who cleaned up after him, day in and day out.

I wanted to say our kid was in and out of the hospital since she was little, and every single time, I was the one holding her through the nights on those cold hospital benches.

I wanted to say you were the one who told me to quit my job, saying the family needed me, and that you'd take care of me for the rest of my life.

But in the end, all I could say was, "She said you want a divorce."

James‌ didn't look at me. He pulled Camila close and dropped onto the couch, his voice cool and businesslike. "Yeah."

I barely recognized my own voice as I asked, "Why?"

"I'm tired," he said, frowning. "With you around, there's no warmth of family here."

"What do you mean by warmth of family?" I stared at him. "You come home to hot meals, clean clothes, and someone taking care of your parents and our daughter. Isn't that what the warmth of family is supposed to be?"

He waved me off, annoyed. "Enough. Marriage isn't only about having someone cook for you. A maid could do all that."

Camila tugged at his sleeve and said softly, "Don't be mean to Laura."

He instantly quieted down, turning to her with a smile. "Okay, I won't."

Suddenly, I felt like a complete joke. Standing in my own home, I felt like a stranger.

"Alright, let's get divorced," I heard myself say. My voice trembled, but it came out clear as day.