“If you and your daughter live or die,
we don’t care anymore”,
but ten years later they came back to my door with money,
tears
and a plea I never imagined hearing.
My mother-in-law,
Ophelia,
he went to see me at the hospital with a bouquet of white flowers
and a face that did not match the occasion.
He looked at the baby for just a few seconds
and let go,
without shame:
—What a pity…
Rodrigo needed a child.
I thought it was a cruel and isolated comment.
I was wrong.
Since that day,
nothing he did seemed enough to him.
If I cooked,
he said I didn’t know how to season
“as a real woman”.
If I cleaned,
I found dust even in the air.
If I carried my girl too much,
according to her, he was going to spoil her.
If I left her in the crib,
it was because I had no instinct.
Rodrigo,
instead of defending myself,
he started to walk away.
I was late,
he answered messages with a smile
that I never dedicated myself to myself
and
when I asked him what was happening,
he responded with rehearsed fatigue:
—Don’t make dramas,
Mariana.
I’m working.
The lie fell by itself one night,
when he left his cell phone in the living room
while bathing.
I didn’t go looking for anything.
The message appeared on the screen
like a slap.
“My love,
your child doesn’t stop moving.
I think he looks like you.”
