Her eyes widened.
Then she whispered, “You will regret humiliating Diego.”
I smiled into the camera.
“Thank you. My lawyer will enjoy that recording.”
Dolores stepped back as if the door itself had slapped her.
She left.
I sent the footage to Valeria.
By afternoon, Valeria filed the first response.
A formal notice rejecting Diego’s proposed agreement.
A demand that he preserve all financial records.
A notice regarding marital abandonment.
A documentation request related to his vasectomy, follow-up instructions, and failure to complete medical clearance.
A warning regarding harassment by third parties.
By evening, Diego unblocked himself through another number and sent:
You’re making me look like a monster.
I stared at the screen.
Then I typed:
No. I’m documenting how you behaved.
I did not send more.
I did not need to.
The next weeks became strange.
Publicly, Diego tried to soften the story.
He deleted the restaurant photo with Paula.
Too late.
Screenshots existed.
He stopped posting.
He began telling mutual friends that “things were complicated” and he had “reacted emotionally to confusing medical circumstances.”
Confusing medical circumstances.
That was how men like Diego dressed cruelty for company.
Paula did not stay silent.
That surprised me.
Three days after the ultrasound, she sent me a message.
I didn’t know he had not been medically cleared. I didn’t know he moved in with me before speaking to a doctor. I believed what he told me. I’m sorry for coming to the appointment. I was cruel.
I stared at the message for a long time.
An apology did not erase what she had done.
But it was more than Diego had given me.
I replied:
