Part1: I put laxative in my husband’s coffee before he left to see his lover, and I watched him swallow it as if he were not drinking down his own shame. I thought the worst part would be watching him run to the bathroom, but two hours later I came home and found something that left me colder than his betrayal.
Carolina stood at my door, pale as paper, holding a baby wrapped in a yellow blanket. For one second, I forgot the broken glass behind me. I forgot Bruno’s open phone on the floor. I forgot the pharmacy bag on the bathroom sink with my name written across it by hand. All I could see…