At seven o’clock I got dressed slowly. A black dress, soft lipstick, my hair pulled back with a touch of elegance. I left without telling him and walked to a nearby restaurant—one of those places where people laugh loudly and never look at prices.
I ordered lobster.
Two of them.
And a glass of wine.
The waiter asked if I wanted to see the dessert menu. I smiled at him.
“Tonight, yes.”
I returned home after dark. I set the table as if it were a small victory.
When Javier walked in, he froze when he saw me holding a fork, the red lobster meat shining under the light. His face shifted from pride to confusion.
“What are you eating…?” he muttered.
I kept chewing slowly.
Suddenly he exploded.
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