Chapter 11 - THE LETTER
Paloma almost threw it away.
Rafael told her she should.
Gustavo agreed.
But Paloma opened it.
Victor's handwriting covered three pages.
There was no apology.
Only bitterness.
He blamed Gustavo.
He blamed Rafael.
He blamed Eduardo.
He blamed the economy.
He blamed his childhood.
He blamed everyone except himself.
Then Paloma reached the final paragraph.
You think Gustavo rescued you because he's a good man.
Ask him about Rosa Almeida.
Paloma looked at Gustavo.
"Who's Rosa?"
Gustavo became very still.
"My sister."
Paloma waited.
"Where is she?"
"She died."
"When?"
"Fifteen years ago."
Gustavo sat down.
For the first time since Paloma had met him, he looked vulnerable.
Rosa had been twenty-three.
She married young.
Her husband isolated her from the family.
When the marriage collapsed, Rosa left with her infant daughter.
She called Gustavo one night asking for help.
He was in a business meeting.
He silenced the call.
"I told myself I'd call her afterward."
His voice weakened.
"I forgot."
The next morning, police contacted the family.
Rosa had been sleeping in her car with her baby.
A drunk driver struck the parked vehicle.
Rosa died.
Her daughter survived.
Paloma covered her mouth.
"Gustavo."
"For fifteen years, I've wondered what would have happened if I'd answered."
"That's why you stopped."
He nodded.
"When I saw you on that road..."
He couldn't finish.
Paloma understood.
Victor believed this revelation would destroy Gustavo's kindness by exposing its origin.
Instead, it explained it.
"You couldn't save Rosa."
"No."
"So you saved me."
"I didn't save you."
Gustavo looked toward the four babies playing on the floor.
"You were already saving yourself."
"I just gave you a ride."
Paloma smiled through tears.
"It was a pretty important ride."
Gustavo laughed quietly.
Then Paloma handed him Victor's letter.
"Burn it."
"What?"
"He's trying to turn your grief into something ugly."
She looked directly at him.
"Don't let him."
Gustavo tore the letter in half.
Then again.
And again.
That evening, Rafael approached Paloma.
"I've been thinking."
"That's dangerous."
He smiled.
"I deserve that."
Then he became serious.
"I don't want our old marriage back."
Paloma frowned.
"I want something better."
"Rafael—"
"I'm not asking you to forgive me tonight."
He removed his wedding ring.
Paloma stared.
"I'm asking if I can earn the right to put this on again someday."
He placed it on the table.
Then walked away.
Paloma stared at the ring for a long time.
May you like
She didn't pick it up.
But she didn't throw it away either.
