When he saw me, he looked up with tear-streaked eyes and said, "Sis, I'm sorry. Let's not get a divorce, okay? I promise I'll be better."
His eyes were red, and he looked at me with a pleading expression, like a lost puppy.
I frowned, my heart aching even more than when I discovered his affair.
Yes, I couldn't bear to see him suffer, which was why, when we were ten, I had thrown myself in front of him to protect him.
"Don't leave me, Sis—"
Leones knelt and clung to me, burying his head deeply in my embrace, his sobs uncontrollable.
Standing at six feet tall, he barely reached my chest while kneeling, crying, and calling out, "Sis."
If this were the past, I would have softened at the sight of him, but now, all I felt was disgust.
I pushed him away roughly and walked to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of ice water, then sat down.
He slumped in his chair, sulking, still murmuring about not getting a divorce.
I neither agreed nor refused but turned the question back on him. "Tell me, after all these years of marriage, how many women have you slept with?"
Leones was speechless.
"See? You can't even count them. How dare you ask me not to get a divorce?"