She took out her phone and held it up in front of my face — a photograph of the three of them, Claudia and Alejandro and a toddler, at a luxury resort in Miami.

And on Alejandro’s wrist in the photo, catching the sun, was the gold watch I had bought him for our tenth anniversary, the one I had had engraved.

“Look at him,” she said, gazing at the picture.

“He was never really happy with you.

You were a burden to him, Camila, a sick, boring burden.

Now he has a real woman, and a son.”