You stand. “Tomorrow we begin.”
Lucía looks stricken.
“Not reckless,” you add. “Careful.”
She nods, but her expression says careful has already taken too much from her.
The next morning, you start observing your husband.
Once you begin, you cannot stop noticing.
The way Esteban’s eyes linger a moment too long when Lucía bends to lift laundry from the basket. The way he asks where Tomás is before stepping into the kitchen if Lucía is alone there. The way his helpfulness carries a quiet sense of entitlement, as if every favor is a deposit into an account he expects to collect from someday.
For years, you called him thoughtful.
Now you wonder how often women mistake watchfulness for care simply because that is how it presents itself.
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