Your marriage to Salvius was just a transaction, your father handing you over to Salvius Calderón for business security. Salvius didn't ask for a wife. He didn't need one. He had already lost love once, and he vowed not to repeat the same wound.

The night after the wedding, Salvius does not welcome you into his home. He does not even attend your first dinner as his wife. When you knocked on his study door, he opened it only slightly and said, "Don't interfere in my life. And don't touch my son."

In that big, cold house, you only occupy one corner of the house, a simple room with a window overlooking a dead garden. No one greets you, not even Salvius' own seven-year-old son Rafael, who looks at you like a ghost intruding on his life.

During their marriage Salvius was never physically abusive. But his cold, sharp demeanor hurt more than shouting. Every time you met at the dinner table, he spoke only to Rafael. Never mentioned your name, never looked into your eyes.

Every morning, you still make breakfast, even though only Rafael will eat. You watered the garden, planted new flowers and hoped that something would soften the atmosphere of the house even if it wasn't for you. Gradually, Rafael began to change. He starts giving you pictures. Starts asking questions about the flowers. Started laughing when you pretended to misread a story. But every progress was like a stab at Salvius. He began to push Rafael away from you.

"Don't get too close to him," you hear Salvius say to Rafael. "But... he's nice," Rafael replies. Salvius, who saw Rafael argue, immediately became angry "She's not your mother," said Salvius.

Until one night Rafael was sick. High fever, chills. The doctor was called, but he kept calling your name. "Mom..." he whispered, even though Rafael knew you were not his mother. You took care of him all night. Changing his compresses, holding his little body, whispering that everything would be all right. Until Salvius stood in the doorway, his face dark.

"Why are you doing all this?" he asked softly.