Chapter 8 - The "Temporary" Trap
Shortly after we got married, Diego sat me down in the tiny, cramped apartment we were renting. He took my hands in his, putting on his most charming, persuasive face.
"Just for a few months, my love," he pleaded, gently stroking my hair.
"The construction company I want to start desperately needs initial capital. If we save on rent and live with my mother for a while, in less than a year we will have enough to buy our own house."
I agreed. I loved him, I trusted him completely, and I desperately wanted to support his entrepreneurial dreams. I was so breathtakingly naive.
May you like
Moving into Doña Carmen's house was like willingly walking into a maximum-security prison, where I was the sole inmate and they were the cruel wardens. The promised "few months" stretched agonizingly into a year, and then into two.
The so-called construction company Diego was supposedly building never took off. But the money from our joint savings account kept evaporating, drained month after month to pay for the extravagant luxuries of his mother and sister.
