PART 1
The cold, white lights of the upscale supermarket in southern Mexico City hummed almost imperceptibly. It was Tuesday afternoon, a day unfolding with the monotonous calm of routine. Valeria pushed the shopping cart, carefully choosing apples, unaware that her reality was about to shatter. Beside her, her eight-year-old daughter, Sofía, shuffled along until she stopped abruptly. The girl tugged hard at her mother’s blouse and whispered:
—Mom… isn’t that Dad?
Valeria turned around, frowning in confusion.
—What are you talking about, my love? Dad is in Monterrey for work until Friday.
But Sofia didn’t look away. She raised her small index finger and pointed toward aisle 6, just past the organic section. Valeria followed the direction of her hand, and the world seemed to stop.
There he was. Calmly browsing the shelves of handmade pasta was her husband, Alejandro. The same man who that very morning had given her a hurried kiss at the door of their house, a briefcase in one hand and a suitcase in the other, promising to send her a message as soon as his flight landed in the north of the country.
Valeria blinked repeatedly. Her mind searched for a logical explanation, trying to convince her that he was a stranger who looked exactly like him. But he wasn’t. He was wearing his favorite blue shirt, carrying that same upright posture, and as she turned her head slightly, the small scar near his chin confirmed the undeniable truth.
Valeria took a breath, ready to call his name across the aisle, but Sofia grabbed her arm with unusual strength for a girl her age.
—Wait. Let’s follow him.
“Why?” Valeria asked, completely bewildered.
—Just do it, Mom. Please.
The girl’s face didn’t show the surprise of a chance encounter; it showed deep terror. That fear in her 8-year-old daughter’s eyes chilled Valeria’s blood far more than the sight of her husband lying about his location.
They moved cautiously, staying hidden behind the shelves. Alejandro strolled along, pushing a cart containing only three items: a bottle of red wine, a fine imported cheese, and a huge bouquet of white lilies. Valeria felt a pang in her stomach. She loved tulips; lilies meant nothing in their marriage.
Reaching the end of the dairy aisle, Alejandro stopped. Valeria and Sofía peeked carefully and saw him approach a woman Valeria had never seen before. She was tall, with light brown skin, dressed in elegant linen trousers and an impeccable blouse. The woman was holding a carton of almond milk and laughing naturally at something Alejandro was saying. Without hesitation, he leaned down, kissed her cheek, and placed his hand on her waist. There was a palpable intimacy, a comfortable and affectionate routine that didn’t come from a chance meeting.
Sofia squeezed her mother’s hand until it hurt.
“It’s the lady from the other day,” the girl whispered.
“What?” Valeria knelt down to her level. “What are you talking about, Sofia?”
—She went to school. I saw her with Dad in the parking lot. I didn’t know who she was.
The woman took the flowers from the cart with a dazzling smile. Then they both started walking together toward the side exit of the supermarket. Valeria, trembling, took out her cell phone and sent Alejandro a message: “How’s Monterrey?”
It only took 10 seconds before the screen lit up with his reply: “Just landing. I’ll call you after the meeting. Love you.”
Valeria looked up from her phone and saw her husband open the door for the stranger, walking together toward an adjacent medical office building. The level of cynicism was monstrous, but what her daughter knew was even worse. What was about to happen was absolutely unbelievable…
