The wedding ended right there.
The guests left whispering to each other. The vendors complained. The cake remained untouched, like a monument to ambition. I stood alone for a moment, amidst that pointless luxury, my heart broken but strangely at peace.
In the following months, everything fell apart for Diego. The buyer sued him. The bank investigated his transactions. The wedding vendors filed lawsuits for non-payment. Since he had no real assets, the debts snowballed. I did get him a lawyer, yes, but an honest one, not a miracle worker.
He was sentenced to several years.
The first visits to the prison were awful. The first time, he refused to see me. The second time, he told me I had ruined his life. The third time, he remained silent. The fourth time, he appeared thinner, less haughty, with a tired look in his eyes.
“Vanessa never came, did she?” he asked.
—No, son. She’s already with another businessman.
He laughed bitterly.
—I was an idiot.
—Yes —I replied, without cruelty—. But you can still stop being one.
He lowered his head.
—Will you ever forgive me?
I sighed.
—I’ve already forgiven you. That’s precisely why I didn’t save you. I want you to leave here a man, not a spoiled brat in an expensive suit.
Cry.
And for the first time in many years I saw my true son behind all that vanity.
Time passed.
I got my forty-odd thousand pesos back because the bank acknowledged the fraud. I continued living in my apartment by the sea. I did Pilates, traveled with friends, and resumed my painting classes. But, unlike before, I didn’t live waiting to be needed. I learned to love myself first.
Three years later, Diego was released from prison on parole.
