My mother wanted a house in her name and my wife refused; after the birth, that decision turned my son’s first week into a nightmare that ended in front of a judge.
A week before, she gave birth to our son, Santiago.
I still remember her in the hospital—exhausted, pale, barely able to move, yet smiling as if she had been given the entire world.
“Promise me no one will hurt him,” she whispered.
I promised.
I had no idea how wrong I would be.
A few days later, I was sent out of town for work. I didn’t want to leave. Valeria was weak, in pain, and the baby needed constant care. But my mother and sister insisted they would help.
