PART 3
Diana looked over my shoulder into my apartment.
Her eyes landed on the couch.
Then the television.
Then the kitchen.
“You’re home anyway.”
I almost smiled.
“That doesn’t mean I’m available.”
“You work from home.”
“Because I can’t walk.”
“You have food.”
“Food isn’t childcare.”
“You have a bedroom.”
“So does Tadeo.”
“He likes your apartment.”
“That doesn’t make it a daycare.”
Diana’s jaw tightened.
Gerardo finally spoke.
“Mónica, we’re not asking you to entertain him. He can play games. He can watch TV.”
“And who gets him breakfast?”
“There’s cereal.”
“Who makes sure he takes a bath?”
“He can do that himself.”
“Who gets him to bed?”
“He’s six.”
“Who takes him to the doctor if he gets sick?”
Neither of them answered.
I nodded.
“Exactly.”
Diana rolled her eyes.
“You always do this.”
“Do what?”
“Turn everything into a complicated problem.”
I looked down at my cast.
“The problem is simple. I broke my leg.”
“You’ve been acting like you’re dying.”
That sentence hurt more than I expected.
Not because I believed her.
Because I realized she believed herself.
She genuinely thought my injury was an inconvenience I was exaggerating.
I took a slow breath.
“Diana, take Tadeo home.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“No.”
Then Tadeo spoke.
“Mom?”
Diana looked at him.
“What?”
“Can I stay here?”
His little voice was hesitant.
I looked at him.
He wasn’t smiling.
He wasn’t excited.
He was holding the strap of his dinosaur backpack with both hands.
Something about his expression bothered me.
“Did you know you were staying here for two weeks?”
He shook his head.
“No.”
I looked at Diana.
She avoided my eyes.
“Tadeo,” I said gently, “do you know where your parents are going?”
“To the beach.”
“For how long?”
He shrugged.
“Mom said a long time.”
I looked back at my sister.
“You didn’t even tell him.”
“He doesn’t need to know everything.”
“He’s six, Diana.”
“He’ll be fine.”
I lowered myself carefully onto the chair beside the door.
My leg was aching.
My arms were trembling from standing.
But I didn’t move aside.
“I’m sorry,” I told Tadeo. “You can’t stay here.”
His face fell.
“Why?”
“Because I’m hurt, buddy. I can’t take care of you.”
He looked at my cast.
Then at my crutches.
Then at his mother.
For the first time, his expression changed from disappointment to confusion.
“But Mommy said you would.”
I felt something cold settle in my chest.
Diana had told him.
She had promised him.
Not because she thought I could care for him.
Because she had already decided I would.
I looked at her.
“You told him I agreed?”
She shrugged.
“I knew you would.”
“You lied to your son.”
“Don’t make it dramatic.”
“I told you no three times.”
“And I knew you’d eventually come around.”
That was the moment something inside me finally broke.
Not my leg.
Something else.
Something much older.
The part of me that had spent decades trying to earn a place in my own family.
I looked at Diana and said quietly,
“You’re right.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“I should have understood something much earlier.”
Her expression softened slightly.
“Finally.”
I shook my head.
“No. I finally understand that when you say ‘family,’ you mean people who are supposed to sacrifice for you.”
Her face hardened again.
“That is not what I said.”
“You didn’t have to.”
I reached for the door.
Diana stepped forward.
“Mónica, if you close that door, don’t expect us to forget this.”
I looked at her.
“That’s fine.”
Then I closed it.
I locked it.
And for several seconds, I stood there listening.
Diana knocked.
Once.
Twice.
Then harder.
“Mónica!”
I didn’t answer.
Gerardo said something I couldn’t hear.
Then Diana’s voice rose.
“You are unbelievable!”
Tadeo started crying.
That was the hardest part.
I wanted to open the door.
Not because Diana deserved it.
Because Tadeo didn’t deserve to stand outside while his parents argued.
But if I opened that door, I knew exactly what would happen.
They would push him inside.
They would leave.
And I would become responsible for a six-year-old child while barely able to walk.
So I stayed quiet.
Eventually, the footsteps disappeared.
I waited another ten minutes before looking through the peephole.
The hallway was empty.
I went back to the couch.
My hands were shaking.
Not from anger.
From exhaustion.
I sat down and stared at my phone.
There were seven missed calls.
Three from Diana.
Two from my mother.
One from my father.
One from an unknown number.
Then the messages began.
Mom:
How could you turn away your own nephew?
Dad:
Your sister needs you. Stop being stubborn.
Diana:
You embarrassed me in front of my son.
Another:
We are still leaving tomorrow. Figure out your attitude before then.
I read them all.
Then I placed the phone face down.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel the urge to defend myself.
I didn’t write an explanation.
I didn’t apologize.
I didn’t ask them to understand.
I simply let them be angry.
That evening, my friend Jessica called.
“How are you?”
“Exhausted.”
“Did your sister come?”
“Yes.”
Jessica went silent.
“What happened?”
I told her.
She listened without interrupting.
When I finished, she said,
“Mónica, you know you’re allowed to protect yourself, right?”
“I know.”
“No. I don’t think you do.”
I looked toward my cast.
“Maybe I’m learning.”
“You’re not selfish.”
“I know.”
“Say it.”
I sighed.
“I’m not selfish.”
“Again.”
“I’m not selfish.”
“Good.”
She paused.
“And there’s something else.”
“What?”
“Don’t let them make you feel guilty because you live alone.”
I didn’t answer.
She continued.
“You know what my mother always told me?”
“What?”
“Being alone and being available are not the same thing.”
I smiled.
“That sounds like something I needed to hear.”
“You did.”
After we hung up, I went to bed.
I thought the situation was over.
It wasn’t.
At 7:15 the next morning, someone began pounding on my door.
I woke up startled.
My heart raced.
I reached for my crutches.
The pounding came again.
“Mónica! Open the door!”
Diana.
I checked the time.
7:16.
“I’m not opening the door.”
“You need to talk to me!”
“No, I don’t.”
“You’re making a huge mistake!”
I heard another voice behind her.
Gerardo.
“Mónica, please.”
I stayed in bed.
Then Diana said something that made me sit completely still.
“If you don’t take Tadeo, we’re leaving him with Mom.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“He’ll stay with Mom.”
I almost laughed.
“My mother is helping with your kitchen remodel.”
“She can handle him.”
My mother’s voice suddenly came through the hallway.
“I can hear you!”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
They had brought Mom.
My mother started speaking.
“Mónica, open the door.”
I didn’t.
“This is ridiculous,” she said.
I heard Diana whisper something.
Then Mom raised her voice.
“You’re the only person making this difficult!”
I pushed myself upright.
I had spent the entire night thinking about how unfair they had been.
Now I was beginning to understand something worse.
They had no backup plan.
They had booked a two-week vacation without arranging childcare because they had assumed I would surrender.
And now they were trying to make their poor planning my emergency.
I opened the door.
All three of them stood there.
Diana.
Gerardo.
My mother.
Tadeo was sitting on the hallway floor beside his little suitcase.
He looked exhausted.
His hair was messy.
He had a stuffed dinosaur tucked beneath one arm.
I looked at Diana.
“Did he sleep?”
She hesitated.
“Of course.”
Tadeo looked at the floor.
I knew immediately.
“No,” I said.
Diana frowned.
“What?”
“He didn’t sleep.”
“He’s fine.”
I crouched as far as my cast allowed.
“Tadeo?”
He looked at me.
“Did you sleep?”
He shook his head.
“Why?”
“Mommy and Daddy were fighting.”
Diana’s face changed.
“Tadeo—”
“He said you were mean,” the boy continued.
Gerardo looked uncomfortable.
“And Mommy said you were ruining our vacation.”
“Okay,” Diana said sharply. “That’s enough.”
Tadeo hugged his dinosaur tighter.
I looked at my sister.
“Take him home.”
“We can’t.”
“Why?”
“We have to be at the airport in two hours.”
“That isn’t my problem.”
My mother stepped forward.
“You’re being cruel.”
I turned toward her.
“Mom, what would you do if I left a six-year-old child with you for two weeks while you were preparing for Diana’s renovation?”
She stared at me.
“I would make arrangements.”
“Exactly.”
She opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
I continued.
“You would call someone. Hire someone. Change the trip. Ask a relative. Do anything except force an injured person to take responsibility.”
Diana snapped,
“We already paid for everything!”
I looked at her.
“Then lose the money.”
Silence.
Gerardo’s face went pale.
Diana stared at me as though I had slapped her.
“You would really make us lose thousands of dollars?”
“You’re the ones choosing that.”
