Two days later, Rosa finally opened her eyes.
She didn’t cry. She didn’t ask where Hugo was. She just stared at the ceiling with a blank, hollow expression.
Tears slid down her cheeks as she whispered, “I knew he didn’t love me. But I thought if I loved him enough, he might change.”
That single sentence broke my heart.
No one blamed her, but we all knew the pain she carried was deeper than any wound money could heal.
The Woman Who Finally Let Go
Since that day, Rosa has never been the same. The vanity, the perfume, the endless hours in front of the mirror — all gone.
She no longer dressed up or took selfies. Her evenings, once filled with romantic music, became quiet. She spent her days knitting, reading, and caring for her grandson.
Once, as I passed by the living room, I saw her wiping away tears while my son sat on her lap, asking innocently, “Grandma, can you tell me a story?”
She smiled faintly and said, “One day, sweetheart. When you’re older.”
A Lesson That Stays With Me
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