All Chapters of Sold by my husband: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Call Juice narrating: Taking a deep breath, I understood perfectly the irritated way that Leonor got up from the bathtub. It wasn't that he wasn't attracted to her, but he hated the fact that he felt so much attraction that he hated that he'd faltered and failed. I felt proud to have a strong woman by my side, holding my hand even in the immature decisions I made, but I hated the fact that I felt that Leonor was more capable than me, she managed to solve situations and have a broad view of the business in a way that I couldn't, and not being macho, the more I felt weak around her. As if I didn't want to accept the fact that she had all the skills I lacked to solve the problems she got me into. Leonor lay down naked on the bed and with her back to me she fell asleep quickly. She couldn't even touch her, and it tortured me to think of how she managed not to lose the roof over our heads. At nine in the morning, I prepared coffee in the kitchen in a calm way so as not to wake

- you know what's crazy? – I questioned him. Drunk and with the bottle in hand – to imagine that while I cook a shitty dinner to save our relationship, you sell me because you can't take your bruised ego... - I called and said I acted on the spur of the moment.... - he said interrupting me. - shut up. You sold me out, you made that decision without even talking to me, and now I'm going to... I'm going to do what no wife does, spend a night with her partner, because of course, you don't even realize how much weight this is going to have then, just look at the side that recovers your company and will be able to tell your friends... I can't believe we're talking about this. - I'll take the couch. - Do you think I'm an immature teenager like you? It doesn't matter if we're going to sleep as far away as possible, but sharing the bed. I told him going upstairs before we broached the subject again, deep down the alcohol made me question if I was happy to be under that

Leonor juice narrating: Waking up in bed, I realized it was empty. Different from what I imagined, even after having spent a whole night awake, I didn't feel sleepy, and it was still nine in the morning. I went downstairs, Call wasn't home, neither was his bag of papers from the service, he had gone to work, even drunk, even without sleep, the messy sofa made me see that he had dozed off there for at least an hour, without giving a damn. the job of lying down next to me in bed, there was no coffee, no flowers, much less a note, it was our tradition, as if it were something that only belonged to us, but whenever we made a mistake, or we had a fight, to prepare coffee and a written note that had bothered us was the starting point of finding calm for a conversation. And oddly enough, it really worked, because whenever there was a note and a coffee we remembered how we respected and cared for each other in our relationship and Call came up with the idea of ​​writing our feelings down

Leonor narrating: Arriving home with my legs still shaking from what I had just discovered, I leaned behind the living room door, closing it, lowered my face looking to the floor, pressing my lips against each other and stayed silent for a few minutes, I walked putting my bag on the sofa I noticed that Call was sitting at the top of the stairs: - Hi how are you? I thought you were at the company. - Where were you? - he questioned me. - Well, I didn't want to talk about it like that anymore... I decided to go back to work at the magazine. I told Call without further ado, I knew I needed to get right to the point, that way it would be easier than saying my questionable motives earlier. - What do you mean back to the magazine? - he told me in a surprised and at the same time saddened voice, it was clear to see his desperate eyes. - The writing wasn't working out, I felt I needed to get out of that bubble of just being stuck inside the house waiting for things to work out. -S

Leonor narrating: Sitting on the couch while questioning myself what had made Cal leave so desperate, I saw the hands of the clock run slowly as if time had stopped, while thoughts were arising I remembered the phrase he said, about how love must be worth more than any debt, I don't know if it was because that phrase came out of Hard's mouth, or because Call said it at a time when he was fragile to see his eyes calming down when he knew he hadn't lost me, which made him I felt wanted by him, but inspiration took shape, it was the first time in months that I really managed to think of something to write about, and whether it was just because I wanted the hours to pass, or because I was finding another face of love, the face of resurrecting him little by little. My fingers glided across the keyboard and made me drop silly smiles. As if time unlocked, the various written pages brought me a sense of peace, which intensified seeing Call pass through the door, heading towards her I hugge