Five years after losing my wife, I took my daughter Alma to my best friend Esteban’s wedding. But when he lifted the bride’s veil, my world collapsed—because the bride was Lucía, the woman I thought was dead.
Years earlier, Lucía and I had married against her wealthy family’s wishes. We built a modest life together until she grew bitter about money. One day, I came home to find her gone—leaving only a note: “I want a divorce. Keep Alma.”
Her parents told me she’d died in a car accident, erasing her from our lives. I raised Alma alone, worked hard, and built a successful career.
Then, at Esteban’s wedding, Lucía stood before me alive. When our eyes met, she fled, leaving questions unanswered.
She once abandoned us, but in that moment, I realized: the best revenge wasn’t anger—it was the life Alma and I had built without her.
