I arrived in Mexico with my husband, John, who was always buried in work. His phone never left his hand, and our luxurious hotel room with its stunning ocean view felt empty. John left each morning with a curt “I’ll be back late,” leaving me to explore the city alone.
I wandered the streets, finding solace in photography, but when I showed John my pictures, he barely glanced at them. “This isn’t serious,” he said dismissively. The distance between us grew, leaving me feeling isolated.
One night, after another argument, I went to the rooftop bar for tea. There, I met Mateo, a charming man from New York. His presence was a breath of fresh air. We connected instantly, sharing stories and laughs. Mateo suggested we explore the city together the next day.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Hesitant but intrigued, I agreed. The next morning, after John left with his usual “I’ll be back in 2 days,” I met Mateo. We spent the day discovering hidden gems in the city, sampling authentic tacos, and even dancing at a local fiesta. Mateo’s company was refreshing, and his appreciation for my photography was the first I’d experienced in a long time.
As the day ended, Mateo’s phone buzzed incessantly. Each time, his expression grew darker. When we returned to the hotel, I found a note outside my door: “Leave my husband alone.” It sent a chill down my spine.
The next day, I confronted Mateo. “Do you have a wife?” I asked. His smile faded. “Yes, but we’ve been separated for a long time—only on paper.” Disappointed, I told him we couldn’t see each other again and walked away.
Returning to my room, John was there, his behavior strange. “Where have you been?” he demanded. I told him I’d just been out, but his next words shocked me.
“I saw you with Mateo. I had to make sure you weren’t doing something you’d regret.”
“You were spying on me?” I asked, horrified.
John’s anger flared. “From now on, you’re under constant watch. I’ll hire a guard if I have to.”
Feeling trapped, I realized I couldn’t live like this anymore. As we flew back home, I reflected on everything that had happened. My only solace was my photography. I had planned to send my photos to a magazine in New York.
At the airport, Mateo was waiting with a sign: “Already divorced. Will you marry me?”
John was furious, but I knew I had to choose a life of love and freedom over constant control. Without hesitation, I said yes to Mateo, ready to embrace the new chapter in my life.
