Sofia and Carlos fight

“You did what?” Carlos spits out in the dim bedroom. He’s standing by the dresser, turning to face Sofia.

Sofia doesn’t flinch from where she’s sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs crossed, and her arms folded under her chest.

“You heard what I said. I went through your phone while you were in the shower,” she repeats, emphasizing every word condescendingly. “And I saw it all, because you’re not even smart enough to do what you were accusing me of doing.” Seeing the tension start to course through his body makes her feel proud even though she knows it’s petty.

“You had no right,” he pipes up before she cuts him off. “That’s my phone. My privacy! You don’t just-”

“No, no, no. Don’t start with that ‘man of the house’ bullshit, Carlos.” Her voice lashes out like a whip, highlighted by her accent coming out immediately. “You’ve picked up my phone whenever you felt like it, and I would give you my passcode without you even having to ask me for it. You’ve read what I’m typing to Marisol over my shoulder. You even make comments about who I’m talking to. But when I finally want to see yours for the first time in our entire relationship? Suddenly it’s a matter of privacy to go through a phone? And you’re telling me I’m in the wrong?”

He takes a step toward her as his voice drops to a growl. “This is different. I’m the one who pays for everything in this house. I have a right-”

“Ay, por favor!” she says exaggeratedly, quickly standing up. Her head goes back and her hands go up in the air like she just remembered something, before coming down to slap against her thighs. “That’s right! I forgot what I agreed to in our wedding vows. Since you pay the bills, you get to fuck around behind my back. Right? That’s the deal now? Because I saw the pictures on your phone, Carlos. And I’ve been sucking your dick long enough to recognize a picture of it buried in some puta’s ass. You took that picture on Mateo’s birthday, you piece of shit.”

The room goes dead quiet while Carlos’s face floods red. She can see his nostrils flaring as he searches for anything to throw back at her. “What kind of mother are you, saying stuff like that loud enough our children to hear?”

“Don’t you dare talk to me about how to be a parent when you don’t go to your own son’s birthday party for some ass!” she retorts vehemently. “And you can scream about privacy all you want,” Sofia continues, stepping closer, pointing her finger at him. “You can call me loca, call me jealous, call me whatever it is that makes a little man like you feel better. But you can’t undo what I saw. You can’t pretend those photos don’t exist. So how long have you been cheating on me? In fact, how many is there? Because I saw at least five fucking women sending you pictures. Or do you even bother learning their names, you little cockroach?”

He turns half away, rummaging through his drawer. “I’m not doing this with you acting all crazy. If you can’t calm down-”

“Crazy?! You think this is crazy?” she snaps. “No, you don’t get to decide when we do this. Not only did you decide to cheat, but you accused me of doing the same thing while your dick was in someone else. So we’re doing it now. Right here. Right now.”

Throwing on a shirt, Carlos grabs his keys from the dresser, ignoring her as he heads toward the door. “I’m going to a hotel for the night. I need space if you can’t be reasonable.”

“No, what you need is a lawyer before I take the kids, the house, and half your fucking paycheck!” Sofia shouts after him as she watches him storm off and slam their bedroom door. She lets out a short, bitter laugh and then chases after him, following him into the garage. “And you better go to a hotel. You’ll need too, because none of your little girlfriends are going to let you in their bed after I send them screenshots of each other. Maybe they’ll want to compare notes.”

He doesn’t say anything or even look in her direction. As soon as the car door is closed, she hits the button hard as though she were slamming a phone down. As the large garage door opens for him, she heads back inside, slamming the door behind her.

The restaurant incident happened Friday evening. How did it get it to this point by Monday? she wonders. It only took just over seventy-two hours to go from tense to threatening him with a divorce on his way out the door to get a hotel.

Taking a minute, she grabs a drink of water to calm down. Then Sofia walks to the children’s bedroom, finding them asleep, and is thankful for the heavy doors and well-insulated walls. A minute later, she’s sitting on her bed, calling her sister to let her know she was right after all.

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