I will never forget the exact day my life was torn in two. My name is Laura Martínez, and until that moment, I believed I had an imperfect but close-knit family, and a sincere love with Daniel Ríos, my boyfriend of four years. That afternoon, sitting in my mother’s kitchen, the air grew heavy. I was three months pregnant and hadn’t yet announced it publicly. I had planned to do so that day. I didn’t get the chance.
My mother glanced at me for just a few seconds and then fixed her gaze on Daniel. With a calmness that still chills me to the bone, she said:
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“Marry her sister. She’s stronger and better for you.”
I felt like the world stopped. Ana, my older sister, stood there, silent, with an expression I couldn’t decipher. I waited for Daniel to react, to stand up, to shout, to defend me. But he only lowered his gaze. That gesture was crueler than any words. In that instant, I understood that he had already made a decision… and that it didn’t include me.
“I’m pregnant,” I managed to say, my voice breaking.
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