For seven months, he had tried to forget it.
He had heard it in dreams anyway.
Slowly, Alejandro turned.
A housekeeping cart stood near the elevators.
Behind it was a woman in a blue uniform.
Her dark hair was tied back.
Her face was thinner.
Her hands were rough.
There were faint chemical burns near two knuckles.
But none of that mattered.
Alejandro stared at her stomach.
Lucía was pregnant.
Very pregnant.
The entire lobby disappeared.
“Lucía.”
She looked at him.
For one second, something crossed her face.
Pain.
Shock.
Then it vanished.
Her expression became professional.
“Is everything all right with the service, sir?”
Sir.
Alejandro felt the word like a slap.
Valeria frowned.
“You know her?”
Alejandro did not look away.
“She is my wife.”
Valeria’s arm dropped from his.
“What?”
Several nearby guests turned.
Lucía gripped the cart.
Alejandro stepped closer.
“Where have you been?”
