Chapter 10 - Dawn over the Gran Vía
A year later, the spring morning sun spilled over the rooftops of Madrid, bathing the stone angels of the Gran Vía in warm, golden light.
I sat at an outdoor terrace table at a quiet café on the rooftop of the Círculo de Bellas Artes, looking out over the sprawling, terracotta-roofed expanse of the city I loved. The breeze was gentle, carrying the scent of blooming jasmine and freshly roasted coffee.
On the table in front of me lay the morning edition of *El País*. On page twenty-four, a small business brief caught my eye: a notice of judicial auction regarding a residential estate in Ávila, alongside a public liquidation notice for a boutique logistics consultancy that had declared bankruptcy after its principal partners were removed due to ethical misconduct.
I took a slow sip of my café con leche, feeling the warmth spread through my chest, and set the paper aside.
My life was entirely my own now. Morales Consulting had expanded, opening a secondary studio in Valencia, and my architectural designs were featured in international journals. The Chamberí apartment had been completely renovated—every piece of furniture Javier had ever touched was replaced, the walls repainted in clean, luminous whites, the rooms filled with art I loved and books I chose.
A waiter approached my table, carrying a silver tray.
“Señora Morales?” he asked with a warm, genuine smile. “Can I bring you anything else this morning?”
May you like
I looked up at the endless blue sky stretching toward the Guadarrama mountains, feeling the quiet, untouchable peace that lived within my bones. No insults disguised as humor. No walking on eggshells. No bills paid to purchase my own humiliation.
“No, thank you,” I smiled, pulling out a crisp fifty-euro note and placing it neatly on the silver tray, adding a generous tip for the quiet morning. “Just the check, please. I’m happy to pay for it.”
