“No need,” she replied. “Hotels talk, Tomás. Receptionists, managers, concierges… everyone knows each other. By tomorrow morning, half the world will know you brought your mistress to your wife’s hotel. It’s too juicy a story to keep quiet.”

He stood up, flailing his arms in the air.

“You planned all this. Buying the hotel, being here today of all days… It was all a trap.”

“You’re wrong,” Jimena said, looking him straight in the eye. “Buying the hotel was a business deal. That you chose this one today of all days… was pure luck. For me.”

Tomás was speechless.

“So what now?” he finally asked. “What’s going to happen to me?”

“Now you’re leaving,” she replied. “You can’t come back to the house. I changed the locks. Your things are in storage; I’ll send you the address. And tomorrow you start dealing with the consequences of everything you’ve done.”

He took a step toward her.

“Jimena, please…”

“It’s Mrs. Briones,” she corrected him. “Or rather, it will be Miss Jimena Whitmore again. I’m keeping my last name. The woman who waited for you at home for years is gone.”

Tomás opened the door. The lobby seemed bigger, colder. The receptionist didn’t look up. The bellboy opened the front door for him without a word.

Everyone knew.

Out on the street, his cell phone vibrated. A message from Nadia.

I’m sorry, but I don’t want to see you again. Don’t drag me into your problems. Please don’t look for me.

Another message. From Jimena.

I canceled the card you used to pay for the hotel. Figure out how to get to your “conference.” Good night.

Tomás put his phone away without replying. In less than an hour, he had lost his wife, his lover, his home, and his dignity. All because he thought he’d never get caught.

Upstairs, on the top floor, Jimena returned to her office. The adrenaline was starting to subside. The hotel had returned to its usual rhythm: suitcases rolling, phones ringing, employees working.

Mariana said goodbye to finalize the details of the lawsuit. Jimena stood alone, gazing at the city through the window.

She felt something new in her chest: lightness.

For years she had carried the burden of the lie, the suspicions, the pain of looking the other way. That night, finally, she had let it all out.

The office phone rang.

“Yes?” she answered.

“Jime,” said her partner’s voice, “they just confirmed the deal for the hotel in Guadalajara. If we sign this week, it’ll be our fourth.”

She smiled.