For the past three months, every night I have been smelling a strange smell. It’s not a typical body odor. It was like the smell of mold mixed with a strong, pungent smell clinging to the blankets, to the bedsheet, and especially to the part of the bed where Miguel was sleeping

I wanted you to be the first to see it.

If you’re still upset, I understand.

But please know… I didn’t do this just for myself.

I did it for others. And for us.

I love you.

— Daniel”

By the time I finished, tears were already falling.

For three months… I had suspected the worst.

I thought he was hiding something terrible.

Another life. Another family.

But the truth…

was a dream.

I sat there on the floor, surrounded by money and papers, staring at the torn mattress.

“You’re unbelievable, Daniel…” I whispered, smiling through tears.

The next morning, I sorted everything carefully. I placed it all in a box instead of hiding it again.

We needed to talk.

Two days later, he called.

“I’ll be home tonight.”

“I’ll cook something,” I said softly.

That evening, when he walked through the door, he looked exhausted—but he smiled the moment he saw me.

He stepped closer, arms opening for a hug.

“Daniel… we need to talk.”

He froze.

Slowly, he sat down.

“You saw it… didn’t you?”

I nodded.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

I placed the letter in front of him.

“I read it.”

He looked up, fear in his eyes. “Are you mad?”

I shook my head.

“No.”

Relief flickered across his face.

“But I am upset about one thing.”

He tensed.

“What?”