After the cr3sh, the doctor said I needed urgent surgery, but my husband held another woman’s hand and muttered, “She’s always been fragile.”

”

A young woman asked me, “Did the man finally turn around and see her?”

“Yes,” I said. “In the end, he did.”

“Did she forgive him?”

I looked at the ring.

“She didn’t need to. By then, she had already learned to walk alone.”

Because my happy ending was not Alejandro finally choosing me.

It was me choosing myself.