Today, around 11:00 AM, Clara returned home after a 4-month business trip.

Heavy.

“Clara…” he began.

She raised her hand.

“No.” Her voice came out dry. “First… someone tell me who she is.”

A brief silence.

Mateo swallowed.

“She’s… my girlfriend.”

The word lingered in the air.

Clara held it in the air, as if it didn’t quite fit.

“Your girlfriend…?” he repeated slowly.

The girl lowered her gaze.

“It’s not just that…” Mateo added, now more firmly, as if there were no turning back. “She’s pregnant.”