Chapter 6 - The Lomas Sanctuary
The private medical wing of the Lomas de Chapultepec clinic looked more like a five-star resort than a hospital. Large floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over a secluded garden filled with jacaranda trees, their purple blossoms falling softly onto the stone pathways.
Catherine sat in a comfortable armchair by the window, wearing a soft white robe that Victor had ordered from the city's finest boutique. Her skin was already losing that gray, hollow look it had carried in the Northside room, thanks to forty-eight hours of proper hydration and nutritional therapy.
Annie was sitting on the floor next to her, her hair beautifully washed and braided into two perfect plaits, playing with a high-end wooden dollhouse that Julian had delivered that morning.
The door opened quietly, and Victor stepped inside. He had shed his corporate armor—no tie, his shirt collars open, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He carried a small basket of fresh sweet bread from a premium bakery downtown, the scent of vanilla and cinnamon instantly filling the clean room.
Annie looked up, her face lighting up with a radiant, gap-toothed smile. "Dad! Look at the house Uncle Julian brought me! It has a tiny little kitchen with a real metal sink!"
Victor knelt down, kissing the top of his daughter’s head. "It’s beautiful, sweetheart. But it’s not as beautiful as the real house we’re going to look at tomorrow."
He stood up and walked over to Catherine, placing the basket on the side table. He reached out, his fingers gently tracing the line of her jaw, his touch light as if he were afraid she might disappear if he pressed too hard.
"The doctors say you can leave tomorrow morning," Victor whispered, sitting on the edge of her armchair. "Your blood markers are stabilizing. They just want you to rest for the next few weeks."
Catherine reached out, her thin fingers wrapping around his wrist. "Victor... it feels too fast. Two days ago, I was scrubbing grease off an iron grill, wondering if I could afford to buy Annie a liter of milk. And now... I’m looking at this garden, and I’m afraid to fall asleep because I don't want to wake up back in 3B."
"You are never going back to that neighborhood, Catherine," Victor said, his voice thick with emotion. "I bought back the old estate in Lomas this morning. The family that purchased it from my mother last year was looking to relocate to Madrid. I paid them double the market value to hand over the keys by noon today."
Catherine’s eyes filled with tears. "The old house? With the art studio in the attic?"
"The very one," Victor smiled, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers. "The easels are already set up. The canvases are waiting. And I hired a team of designers to completely recreate Annie’s nursery exactly the way it was before... before the storm."
Catherine let out a shaky breath, her tears finally spilling over her cheeks, but this time, they weren't the tears of a woman holding a broken hotplate in a leaking room. They were the tears of a mother who had finally been brought back from the exile of a monster's lie.
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"We have three years of birthdays to make up for, Victor," she murmured, her hand moving up to touch his face.
"We have a lifetime, Catherine," Victor replied, his lips meeting hers in a soft, desperate kiss that carried all the apologies he couldn't put into words.
