Chapter 3 - THE CLOSED DOOR
The silence returned to the house as the front door closed,
leaving the couple alone in the grand hallway.
Andrés looked directly into Renata’s eyes,
his gaze cold and unblinking.
Why is my mother’s bedroom door closed,
he asked,
his voice dropping to a dangerous register.
Renata smiled immediately,
a practiced,
beautiful expression.
However,
her eyes remained completely dead,
failing to mirror the warmth of her lips.
It is for her own safety,
my love,
she explained quickly,
placing a hand on his chest.
Yesterday she wanted to go out into the street in her pajamas,
confused and angry.
She almost ran over a delivery truck,
and I had to drag her back inside.
Andrés felt a chill run down his spine,
knowing his mother’s sharp mind.
In the army,
he had learned a vital lesson about survival.
The first impulse,
the sudden reaction born of anger,
almost always kills you.
He took a deep breath,
forcing his muscles to relax.
He leaned down and kissed Renata’s forehead,
a gesture devoid of true passion.
He looked past her,
glancing out the window at Mrs. Lucha who was still watching.
Thank you for listening,
Miss Lucha,
he called out with a calm that startled the old neighbor.
Renata guided him toward the kitchen,
offering him a glass of cold Jamaican water.
She began to list the medical appointments she had scheduled,
her voice trembling with manufactured grief.
She wept without shedding a single actual tear,
covering her face with a delicate handkerchief.
Andrés waited patiently,
allowing her to spin her web of lies.
He watched the neighbors retreat from their windows,
convinced of Renata’s martyrdom.
Only when the house fell completely quiet did he make his move,
stepping away from the kitchen.
May you like
He began to climb the stairs,
each step heavy with anticipation.
