Todos los capítulos de I Am Dead To You Husband : Capítulo 81 - Capítulo 90

Camila tossed her pen onto the conference table, leaning back in her chair with a relieved sigh."Alright, team," she announced, "that wraps up the Q3 marketing deep dive. Great ideas all around. Let's get those campaigns drafted by the end of next week."Her marketing director, Flores, gave her a thumbs-up, already tapping on her laptop. The rest of the department started gathering their notes, the hum of their excited chatter filling the room.Camila pushed her chair back, stretching her arms above her head. It was good to get that out of the way.Her office was just a few steps down the hall. She headed towards it, pulling out her phone to check for any texts or missed calls from Antonio, Abuelo—some good news, anything.But an unknown number flashed on the screen.She paused, frowning slightly. Probably a telemarketer, but sometimes it was a new supplier or a press inquiry. She decided to risk it."Hello?" she answered, her tone a mix of professional curiosity and mild annoyance

"Ernesto? What are you doing here?" Camila exclaimed, stepping back.Ernesto's face practically fell. "What are you doing here?""This is my aunt's house."Ernesto frowned. "What—""Do I know you?" Jose's voice cut in, sharp and immediate, as he emerged from behind Camila, placing a hand on the wall right behind her, subtly blocking her path.His eyes locked on Ernesto. "What do you want?"Ernesto's gaze darted from Jose to Camila. He didn't reply immediately, and Camila could see the gears turning in his head, as if he hadn't thought this through before ringing the bell.Did he actually think Julie was single? A widow? Divorce even?And why was he even here? Isn't he supposed to go find Alberto?"Sorry, I think I got the wrong address," he said, turning, but before he could take a step, Camila blurted out,"You came here looking for Julie, right?"He stopped dead in his tracks.Camila smirked. This should be good. Let's see how you talk your way out of this one.Meanwhile, Jose just

Antonio flipped through the pages of a magazine, a random one he'd picked up just for something to do, anything to kill time. Anything to keep him sane from not hitting Ernesto in the face or igniting another round of argument. He wasn't even reading the thing, just letting his eyes blur over the glossy ads and articles about celebrity diets he couldn't care less about. Each page turn was like a little mental distraction, a mini-victory against the urge to just explode.He could practically feel Ernesto's eyes on him, that heavy, silent stare that just made his skin crawl. The quiet in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife, broken only by the soft flick of a page and Ernesto's annoying, drawn-out sighs.He had a mug of coffee clutched in his hand, one leg crossed over the other as he leaned back on the couch. Every now and then, he'd snap out of his daze, let out a heavy sigh, and glance at Antonio, as if waiting for something.Antonio had no clue what. Was Ernesto trying to s

The thought of retirement used to be a dream, a shimmering mirage of endless golf games and undisturbed naps. Now, sitting in the humid traffic, Jose found it was more like a mirage that promised fun but delivered… this. Endless grocery lists, for one. And the cooking. God, the cooking. Julie, his wife, had developed an uncanny knack for leveraging their daughter’s disability – “our big baby,” as she called Diane – into a get-out-of-kitchen-free card of "She’s using crutches, Jose; she needs me." Jose sighed, the familiar bitterness bubbling up. He thought of all the usual women, women who should’ve been settled in their husbands’ homes, but Diane instead ended up with an already married man like Lawson. And then the main wife returns, and she's packed out like a forgotten bag of luggage. And Julie… Julie isn't helping. Not showing her the right path. Just there for her demands and needs. If Julie isn't tending to Diane, she's onto Camila. And then there's the other agenda.

"Who was that, Honey?" Jose called from the living room, not looking up from the phone but listening intently.Julie, standing by the now-closed front door, took a breath so subtle he almost missed it."No one," she replied, her voice smooth, almost too smooth. "Just someone at the wrong address."Jose grunted an "Okay," feigning disinterest, but his mind was sharp, cataloging every detail: the swiftness of her door closing, the almost imperceptible pause before her answer, the chilling calmness in her tone that usually only appeared when she was, well, spinning a tale.He kept his eyes on the screen, letting the silence stretch, giving her space to make her next move. He wanted to see if she'd peek through the peephole, if she'd hover by the door, maybe with a lingering curiosity about the "no one."But she didn't. She just stood there for another beat, then a soft slap of skin echoed."Shit!" she muttered, more to herself than to him. "I forgot."Jose's ears perked up."Jose," she s