The Other Wife

Paris

PENÉLOPE

Paris, the city of love.

Paris, the city of the dark stage.

I arrived in an unfamiliar city, with a different language, in an unknown country, amid disdainful looks towards my person because of my appearance. My hair was frizzed out, my black-rimmed glasses were twisted, my face was haggard, and my outfit—a long skirt and a regular button-down blouse—was deemed fit for a woman of seventy, according to fashion critics.

I won't deny that at that moment, I felt fear, because it was clear that I did. My hands were trembling, and my legs and I had to take a taxi. It was difficult for me to communicate that I wanted to go to the Hotel De Crillon; however, I managed to arrive safely. At all times, I held onto my briefcase and the bag with jewels hanging from my shoulder.

Once I was inside my room with the door securely closed and nerves on edge because I didn't know if I was being followed at that moment or not, I finally collapsed on the floor. I had stopped running, crying because I didn't know what fate had in store for me.

My life has changed since I met Ulises. I knew nothing about him, nor was I even sure if I knew anything about myself. I stood on the floor, embracing myself, with the sounds of the Parisian streets barely reaching my room from the balcony door.

I didn't know how much time had passed when my tears had dried up. I stood up with difficulty, feeling a bit dizzy, as until that moment, I hadn't been aware that I hadn't eaten anything. I took the briefcase in my hands, getting up with some difficulty. I leaned it against the bed and opened it.

It was full of bundles of one hundred dollar bills.

Ulises had sent me to France with money. At least I wouldn't have to worry about food and lodging for a while until he arrived.

I got a few bills. I stored the briefcase in the hotel safe and set out to buy a change of clothes and eat something before returning to take a bath.

It was difficult for me to make myself understand that I was looking for underwear, personal hygiene items, and clothes in general. I had to walk a long way to find a store and only take what I needed by myself before paying. I couldn't help but feel paranoid that someone was following me and watching me all the time.

I returned to the room two hours later with a sandwich in hand and a coffee. I locked myself in, bolting every possible latch and checking every corner of my room so as not to be surprised by a lunatic.

I ended up turning on the shower and taking a bath, vigorously scrubbing my body to remove all the sweat and dirt I had been carrying for days. I put on my pajamas, turned on the TV, and then realized that I needed to learn the basics of French if I wanted to survive these days.

The sound of the phone startled me, as I only had the noise of the television accompanying my loneliness. My heart raced as I picked up the receiver, but in the end, I decided to do it.

"Hello?" I answered fearfully.

"Penelope, is that you?" I heard Ulises's voice on the other end of the phone. He sounded breathless.

"Ulises, are you okay?" I asked. I got up from bed upon hearing his voice.

"Listen, I don't have much time, but you're going to have to wait for me a little longer. I'm going to have facial surgery to make it difficult for them to recognize me. I have no other choice."

"Ulises, what's going on?" I wanted answers and didn't have them.

"Misunderstandings, that's what's going on. I have no idea either. You need to leave the hotel because you might be followed. Contact the people I told you about. I'll find a way to reach out to you."

With that, Ulises hung up. I was left on edge knowing that the feeling of being watched after all might turn out to be true.

I hurried to gather my few belongings and search for the crumpled paper my husband had given me for this emergency. I could barely ask the receptionist if I could make a phone call. The phone rang three times before it was answered.

"Who?" replied the voice of a woman on the other end of the phone.

"Camille? It's Penelope, Ulises Asker told me you could help," I said.

"Ulises Asker." She fell silent for a moment. "Where are you staying?" she asked.

That same night, I left the hotel after contacting the person I was told about. It was Camille, a woman nearing sixty who hadn't seen Ulises in years, but she had agreed to help me as a favor to my husband. She came for me from the hotel.

I was waiting for her in the lobby with my briefcase and the jewels I had in my bag when I saw a couple of men dressed in black enter. Luckily, I was leaning against a corner near a plant. One of the men adjusted his pants, and my heart leaped into my throat when I saw he had a concealed weapon at his waist.

I heard them mentioning my name, and then I began to take slow steps towards the street, intending to run away. I stepped onto the street as they got into the elevator, and then I collided with a woman who looked impeccable.

It was Camille, the woman I had contacted. How did I recognize her? She was holding up a sign with my name on it. She glanced at me and I explained that we had to leave quickly.

The next morning, it was reported on the news that there was an arson attack at the hotel where I was staying, specifically in my room.

Camille took me to her home for temporary accommodation. She was one of those women who looked like queens of fashion, those who led the world and could get whatever they set their minds to. She tried to avoid me as if I were a contagious virus or something similar.

"Do you know how long Ulises will take to come?" she asked grumpily one morning when she had to share the table with me for breakfast.

"He told me a couple of weeks ago to contact you, and he would find a way to reach me," I replied.

Camille made a disgusted face upon hearing that it wouldn't be days, but weeks. The last thing I wanted was to make her uncomfortable.

"Camille, I appreciate your kindness in receiving me into your home, but it's clear that you don't like me, and I can leave if that makes you more comfortable," I said honestly.

She turned to me, scanning me and twisting her mouth. "It's not that you have anything wrong, except for your penchant for dressing like an old lady. For God's sake, girl, I'm old enough to wear what you have, and it's something I would never do. What traumatized you to dress like that?"

I remained silent, seeing that Camille could see beyond a person just by their clothes. I wasn't ready to discuss my past, not at the moment. There were things inside me that I wasn't willing to discuss with a stranger. I lost myself on my plate of fruit, not knowing what to say.

"It must have been serious for you to stay quiet like that. Anyway, I hope you'll get over it in time. Not all troubles should last a lifetime, but good taste, that should definitely remain," she said, leaving her cloth napkin and getting ready to leave.

Days passed, and I heard nothing from Ulises. I couldn't contact him for fear of them tracing my whereabouts. However, two weeks turned into a month and then two months. Camille was desperate, just like me. I spent my time trying to learn a little French from the gardener or the lady who helped with household chores.

Three months passed, and it seemed that Ulises' absence was catching up with me again. It wasn't the first time I hadn't seen him for long periods.

My husband's face was fading from my mind once again. There had been so few times I had seen him since our return from the honeymoon in Las Vegas. I wasn't even sure if I would ever see him again.

That's how my time in France began to pass painfully, without knowing that I was about to have a real change in my life and my revenge would begin.