“Sign it.”
The divorce was finalized a month later.
I learned to walk again. Slowly, painfully, but on my own.
When I returned to Mexico, I was no longer Mrs. Montes. I was Sofia Rivera.
I opened a small gallery in Roma Norte. My first exhibition was called Own Signature.
The main painting showed a woman on an operating table, removing a ring beneath a bright white light.
Under the real ring, sealed in a glass case, I wrote one sentence:
“Removed in the operating room.”
A young woman asked me, “Did the man finally turn around and see her?”
“Yes,” I said. “In the end, he did.”
“Did she forgive him?”
I looked at the ring.
“She didn’t need to. By then, she had already learned to walk alone.”
