As I chew, I see Ana hesitating for a moment, as though she wants to say something else, but then she disappears into the kitchen, leaving me to my breakfast. For the next few minutes, I make a serious attempt to eat, but everything tastes like sand and I finally give up.

Getting up, I head to the porch, wanting to feel the sun on my skin. The coldness inside me seems to be spreading with each moment, my depression deepening as the morning wears on.

Stepping out the front door, I walk over to the edge of the porch and lean on the railing, breathing in the hot, humid air. As I gaze out onto the wide green lawn and the guards in the distance, I feel my vision blurring, hot tears welling up and beginning to slide down my cheeks.

I don’t know why I’m crying. Nobody died; nothing truly terrible has happened. I’ve been through so much worse in the past two years, and I’ve coped with it—I’ve adjusted and survived. This relatively minor thing shouldn’t make me feel like my heart has been ripped out.

My growing conviction that Julian is not capable of love shouldn’t destroy me like this.

A hand gently touches my shoulder, startling me out of my misery. Swiftly wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand, I turn around and am surprised to see Ana standing there, an uncertain expression on her face.

“Señora Esguerra… I mean, Nora…” She stumbles over my name, her accent thicker than usual. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if you had a minute to talk?”

Taken aback by the unusual request, I nod. “Of course, what is it?” Ana and I are not particularly close; she’s always been somewhat reserved around me, polite but not overly friendly. Rosa told me that Ana is like that because that’s what Julian’s father demanded of his staff, and the habit is difficult for her to break.

Looking relieved by my response, Ana smiles and walks up to join me at the railing, placing her forearms on the painted white wood. I give her a questioning look, wondering what she wants to discuss, but she seems content to just stand there for a moment, her gaze trained on the jungle in the distance.

When she finally turns her head to look at me and speaks, her words catch me off-guard. “I don’t know if you know this, Nora, but your husband lost everybody he’s ever cared about,” she says softly, no trace of her customary reserve in sight. “Maria, his parents… Not to mention many others he knew both here on the estate and out in the cities.”

“Yes, he told me,” I say slowly, eyeing her with some caution. I don’t know why she’s suddenly decided to talk to me about Julian, but I’m more than happy to listen. Maybe if I understand my husband better, it will be easier for me to maintain my emotional distance from him.