César sat at the table, arms crossed, looking like a man who had been waiting for a performance he already knew by heart.

A crooked smile curled at the corner of his mouth—one of those smiles that mocked, that tried to disarm through sarcasm.

“I missed you… especially your habit of not giving notice.”

Celina didn’t say a word. Standing at the door, her eyes locked on him, her expression was a storm of pain, courage, and a fury barely contained, threatening to spill over.

She walked in, chin lifted, though her throat tightened with every step. She closed the door behind her and said nothing for a moment. The silence was sharp, heavy with everything left unsaid.

“I came to end this, César,” she said finally, her voice steady despite the tension. “I’m here to sign the divorce.”

César leaned back slightly in his chair, fingers interlaced on the table. The corner of his mouth lifted into a dry smirk.

“Well, well… the fairytale ended so quickly? Decided to return to the real world?”

Celina