THE WEEKEND THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING 6 - THE SEPARATION

THE SEPARATION

Juan arrived at his house that Friday afternoon like any other day in the last few months. He had spent the lunch hour at Pedro's house, as had been the routine for so long, and was returning to work with the familiar taste of humiliation still fresh in his mouth. His life had become mechanical: work, Pedro, lies, home, sleep, repeat.

But when he opened the door to his house, something was different. There was an eerie silence, an absence that could be felt in the air. Normally at this hour, he would hear his children playing, his wife preparing dinner, the sound of the television.

Nothing.

"Hello?" he shouted, leaving his keys on the entrance table. "Is anyone there?"

Silence.

He walked towards the kitchen and found a letter on the table. His name was written in his wife's familiar handwriting. With trembling hands, he opened the envelope.

"Juan,

When you read this, we will already be at my parents' house. The kids and I left this morning.

I can't take it anymore. It's been months since you haven't been the same. It's been months since you've been living a life that doesn't include your family. I don't know who you're cheating on me with, but I know there's another woman. The strange schedules, the excuses, the distance, the fact that you no longer touch me...

I've tried to talk to you many times, but you always lie to me. You always have an explanation that doesn't explain anything.

The kids ask me why their dad no longer plays with them. I don't know what to tell them.

I need time to think. I need to decide if our marriage has a future or not.

Please, don't call me for a few days. When I'm ready to talk, I'll call you.

I'm sorry, Juan. I'm sorry it's come to this.

María"

The letter fell from his hands. He stood still in the kitchen, staring at the paper on the floor, unable to process what he had just read.

His wife had left him. His children had left him.

His family had disappeared.

He let himself fall into a chair, feeling like the world was crumbling around him. Everything he had worked for, everything he had built, had collapsed. And he knew exactly why.

All the lies. All the excuses. All the afternoons at Pedro's house. All the times he arrived late, distracted, absent. All the times he rejected sex with his wife because he couldn't think of anything else but Pedro.

He had destroyed his family. And it hadn't even been for love, or for another woman. It had been for a sick obsession, for a submission that had consumed him completely.

He began to cry. At first softly, then with sobs that came from the deepest part of his chest. He cried for his wife, who had left him thinking there was another woman when the reality was much worse. He cried for his children, who no longer understood why their dad had changed so much. He cried for ...