Chapter 7 Zara's POV

After their chat, Enrique ended the call and handed the phone back to me without saying a word. He then excused himself to continue watching his television show. I was about to start washing the dishes when Nick called again. For a moment, I was tempted to ignore the call, but in the end, I couldn't.

"Wazzup, Nick? You called again," I said.

"Did you know that Giselle is one of my clothing models, right? Your husband is here supporting her," he informed me. I wished he hadn't.

A new wave of pain washed over me, a pain I thought I was immune to.

"It's fine... he told me about it," I lied, trying to save face. But Nick's anger flared.

"No, it is not fine, Zara! Are you crazy? I just told you that your husband is cheating on you, and you tell me it's fine. What's wrong with you?"

As Nick's voice raised in anger, the tears I had been holding back began to flow freely. Through the video call, I saw a mix of confusion and pity in Nick's eyes.

"Hey, Zara. Listen to me, buddy. Don't cry over that jerk! Hey, stop crying," he pleaded.

"I-I'm fine. It's because of you," I managed to say.

"Why are you crying over that fool? Divorce him," he suggested.

"I think I will," I said, then lied about Enrique calling me to end the call.

The call ended. Normally, I would have sat there, staring into nothingness, imagining Lucas and Giselle being affectionate with each other, perhaps even kissing in public. But this time, I reacted differently.

I picked up the plates and brought them to the sink. Just last week, I had a maid, but only God knows what Lucas did to her because she suddenly disappeared. It was always like that. He would never oppose hiring a maid, but then, somehow, they would always end up leaving abruptly.

After drying the plates and placing them on the white mat, I joined Enrique in the living room. We watched cartoons together, and when it was snack time, I got up to prepare some refreshments.

Whenever Lucas was away, I had the freedom to relax. There was no one to dictate my actions. I knew that Lucas's behavior had an emotional and psychological impact on both Enrique and me, yet I was hesitant to leave him for good.

Lucas was never present for any of Enrique's special days. My son had never experienced spending his birthday or any other special occasion with his father.

Just like me, it seemed Enrique would never experience a father's love, and that was heartbreaking. However, I couldn't solely blame Lucas for our dysfunctional family. I was also at fault.

I should be the one to blame, and Enrique should be angry with me. Oh God, I was confused by everything. Was it really my fault? Was everything my fault from the start?

Later in the afternoon, after picking Enrique up from school and having dinner together, I knew it was time for a serious conversation. I waited until we were both settled on the couch and then gently took his hands in mine.

"Enrique, there's something important I need to talk to you about," I began, searching for the right words.

He looked at me with those innocent eyes, and a wave of guilt washed over me. My sweet little boy didn't deserve to go through this.

"What is it, Mom?" he asked, sensing the seriousness in my tone.

"I want to talk to you about Daddy and me. You know that we haven't been very happy lately, right?" I said softly.

He nodded, his expression serious, and I continued, "Well, sometimes grown-ups have disagreements, and it can make them sad. And when grown-ups are sad, it can affect their relationships with others, even the people they love the most."

"Are you and Daddy sad because of me?" he asked, his voice breaking. It broke my heart to see him blame himself.

"No, sweetheart, it's not your fault at all. You are the light of my life, and I love you more than anything in this world. Mommy and Daddy's problems have nothing to do with you," I reassured him, wiping away a tear from his cheek.

"Then why don't you both smile like we used to?" he asked innocently.

I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to explain this to him in a way that he would understand.

"It's like when you used to love playing with a certain toy, but as you grow older, you find other things you like. It doesn't mean you didn't love that toy; it's just that things change," I said gently.

"But I want things to be like before," he said, his lower lip trembling.

I pulled him into a tight hug, trying to comfort him, "I know, baby. I wish things could be like before too. But sometimes, life doesn't work out the way we want it to. And it's okay to feel sad about it."

He stayed in my embrace, and we sat there quietly for a while, his little arms wrapped around me tightly.

"Mom, are you going to leave me too?" he asked hesitantly.

My heart shattered into a million pieces at his words. I never wanted him to feel abandoned, and the thought of leaving him hurt me deeply.

"No, baby, I would never leave you. I will always be here for you, no matter what," I said, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.

"But if you and Daddy don't love each other anymore, why do you still stay together?" he asked, and I knew he was too young to understand the complexities of relationships.

"It's not because we don't love you, but we want to make sure you have a stable and happy life. But if Mommy and Daddy are not happy together, it's not fair to anyone, especially you," I explained.

He seemed to absorb my words, and after a moment, he spoke again, "So, what are you going to do, Mom?"

I sighed, knowing this was the moment I needed to be honest with him.

"I think it's time for Mommy and Daddy to live apart, sweetheart. We both love you very much, and we will always be your parents, but we need to figure out a way to be happy," I said gently.

Enrique's eyes welled up with tears again, and he buried his face in my shoulder, sobbing softly. I held him close, whispering comforting words and trying to soothe his pain.

"I don't want you to leave," he said between sobs.

"I know, baby, and I don't want to leave you either. But sometimes, grown-ups need to make hard decisions for the best. We will figure it out together, okay? You and me, we will always be a team," I said, hoping to bring him some comfort.

As the night went on, I held my son close, promising him that no matter what happened, I would always be there for him. We both cried that night, but in each other's arms, we found a little comfort.