Chapter 10 - The Passenger Seat
The company’s investigator interviewed Teresa on Thursday.
She arrived dressed as though she were attending a charity lunch.
Pearls.
Cream suit.
The same sunglasses she had worn in my SUV.
I was not in the interview.
Neither was my father.
The company used an outside investigator, and Elena made certain we did not blur my marriage with the review.
By evening, there was enough information to understand the shape of it.
Teresa had registered a renovation business.
Marco had helped submit paperwork that made it appear qualified for a company project.
An advance had been paid.
Some of that money had gone toward a condominium reservation and personal expenses.
When finance began asking questions, Marco tried to turn my house into an answer.
Rosa’s deposit covered only a fraction of what was missing.
The rest would come from a sale I had never agreed to.
I read the summary twice.
The house listing.
The boxes.
The floor plan.
Mom’s room gets morning sun.
Every separate humiliation slid into place.
“This started before Mateo was born,” I said.
“Yes.”
“And when it started falling apart, he needed me home and quiet.”
Elena did not answer the part she could not prove.
She only said, “He made repeated decisions without your consent.”
I remembered standing outside the hospital.
How Marco had looked toward Teresa before speaking.
I had thought he was choosing the woman he loved more.
Now I saw something uglier.
He was choosing the person who knew what he had done.
That afternoon, he attended the supervised visit.
He washed his hands.
He held Mateo awkwardly.
For a few minutes, watching them hurt in a different way.
Our son settled against his chest.
Marco kissed the top of his head.
I had wanted that picture to be our whole life.
Then he looked up.
“Can you ask your father to stop the investigation?”
There it was.
Even now.
“You’re here to see Mateo.”
“I’m his father. If I lose my job—”
“Then hold him while you still have this hour.”
His face reddened.
The family counselor supervising the visit reminded him of the agreement.
Marco looked down at the baby.
Afterward, while Mateo was being settled, he stepped close enough to speak quietly.
“You wanted me to admit I needed you.”
“No,” I said. “I wanted you to notice I needed help.”
He stared at me.
Then his phone rang.
Teresa.
May you like
He answered immediately.
And walked away while our son was still crying.
