Someone saw Ángela leaving a very elegant law office downtown, and then she was seen paying off all her debts at the bank. People talk a lot, Aurora. Yes, but they’re also saying that you got your house back from the beach and that you somehow managed to solve all of Angela’s legal problems. That costs a lot of money, Antonia. Aurora knew me too well to deceive her for long.
What exactly does she want to know? I want to know if my friend of 40 years has been lying to me about her situation. I poured myself a cup of tea and sat down across from her. It was time to be honest with someone else. Roberto left me more than anyone knew. Aurora. Much more. How much more.
Enough so that Angela and I won’t have to worry about money anymore. Aurora was quiet for a moment, processing this information. And why did you pretend to be poor all these months? Because I needed Angela to learn something she couldn’t learn any other way. I told her the whole story, Angela’s cruel call, my plan for silent revenge, the weeks watching her hit rock bottom, and finally the revelation in Jorge’s office.
Antonia, that’s it—that’s brilliant and terrible at the same time. Terrible. Yes, because you let your own daughter suffer when you could have helped immediately. But also brilliant because I understand why you did it. Do you really understand? Yes. Angela needed to learn the value of the things she had lost.
If you had simply given her money to solve her problems, she would have learned that there is always someone who will rescue her from the consequences of her bad decisions. Exactly. But Antonia, it didn’t hurt you to see her suffer. Every day, every night you saw her cry, every morning you saw her get up to go to work tired and defeated, but you knew that if you rescued her too soon, she wouldn’t have learned the full lesson.
And you think she learned it? Look for yourself. Angela knows she now has access to enough money to live comfortably, but she chose to keep her job. She knows she can move to a better place, but she decided to stay here with me. She knows she doesn’t have to worry about debt, but she is using her own savings to help other women in similar situations.
She is helping other women. Yes. She’s made friends with the ladies she works with and is using some of the money she earned cleaning offices to help a colleague who is struggling to pay for daycare for her son. Aurora smiled. That’s not the Angela who went to Europe. No, it’s not.
This Angela understands that money is a tool, not a goal. She understands that dignity comes from work and respect, not from material possessions. That night, when Angela returned from work, she found me reading in the living room. Mom, I have to tell you something. What happened today? Doña Carmen asked me if I was the daughter of the rich lady from the northern neighborhood.
What did you tell her? I told her yes, that you have enough money so I don’t have to work. And you know what she asked me next? What? She asked me why I keep working. Then I explained that it was because I need to prove to myself that I can take care of myself. And what did she say? She laughed and said, “My girl, that’s the difference between being rich and acting rich. Your mom taught you how to be truly rich.
Doña Carmen is very wise. Yes, and she made me understand something important. It’s not about the money you have, but how you use it and how you relate to it.” Angela sat with me on the couch. “Mom, I want you to know that I’ve made a decision. What is it? I’m going to stay living here with you, but not as a daughter returning to her parents’ house.”
I was sitting in the doctor’s waiting room when my phone rang. It was Angela, my only daughter. Her voice sounded strange, almost cold, as she said, “Mom, we’re going to Europe tomorrow. I already sold your beach house and your car.”
