The middle class is a strange land.
Mirtes couldn't stand it anymore, so she told Lurdes.
-Your husband was seen going into a motel.
Lurdes' jaw dropped and her eyes widened. She sat there, like a statue, for a minute, minute and a half. Then she asked for details. When? Where? With whom?
-Yesterday, at Discretissimu's.
-With whom? With whom?
-That I don't know.
-What do you mean? Was she tall? Skinny? Blonde? Did she have a limp?
-I don't know, Lu.
-Carlos Alberto will pay. Oh, he'll pay!
When Carlos Alberto came home, Lurdes told him she was leaving him. And why.
-What are you talking about, Lurdes? You know who the woman with me at the motel was. It was you.
-I know. I knew I shouldn't have agreed to go. Discretissimu's! The whole city is talking about it. Good thing no one recognized me.
-So...
-So I have to leave you. Don't you see. It's what all my friends expect me to do. I am not the kind of woman that gets cheated on and does nothing.
-But I didn't cheat on you! It was you! You were with me!
-But they don't know that!
-I can't believe this, Lurdes. You are going to ruin our marriage because of this? Because of some convention?
-Yes.
Later, when Lurdes was leaving the house, bags packed and everything, Carlos Alberto stopped her. He looked somber.
-I just got a phone call. It was Dico.
-What did he want?
-He was reluctant at first, but finally spit it out. He said that, as a friend, he had no choice.
-What?
-You were seen leaving Discretissimu's last night, with a man.
-You were that man!
-I know, but I was not identified.
-You didn't tell him it was you?
-What? So my friends will think I go to motels with my own wife?
-So?
-I am sorry Lurdes, but...
-What?
-I am going to have to shoot you.
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