It wasn’t the waiters with the dinner.
There were two investigative police officers, a court clerk, and my lawyer.
The music cut out.
The guests began to murmur.
One of the officers walked directly up to Diego.
—Diego Villaseñor? You are under arrest for your probable responsibility in the crimes of fraud, falsification of documents and breach of trust.
Vanessa let out a scream.
—That’s impossible! We are good people!
“That doesn’t exempt anyone from the law,” the officer replied.
Diego looked at me with pure terror.
—Mom, please. Tell them it was a misunderstanding. Tell them you were going to give it to me. Tell them you did authorize it.
The whole room stared at me.
And in that second I knew that a mother can break down in silence and still stand.
I approached him, took his face in my hands, and said in a low voice:
“I love you, Diego. But I didn’t give you that apartment. I didn’t authorize you to empty my accounts. I didn’t allow you to betray my trust. And if I save you today, I condemn you forever to remain a coward.”
She started to cry.
The police handcuffed him in front of three hundred guests.
Vanessa saw it, understood that money didn’t exist, and her love evaporated like cheap perfume.
“You’re an idiot!” she yelled, hitting him with the bouquet. “You told me you were rich. You told me your mother was out of the way. I’m not marrying a criminal!”
He ripped off her ring and threw it at her chest.
