Camilla was approaching her forties. She was also approaching the end of her husband's attraction towards her diminishing beauty. Her once sparkling deep blue eyes were becoming hollow sockets of old age. Her slightly curved cherry lips were losing their enchanting colour. Her husband Ricardo was a typical Spaniard, he was macho for the sake of appearances and his twirling dark moustache was his primary source of pride. He would use every opportunity to stroke his moustache and act as if he did it involuntarily. However there was a wound in his masculinity; he didn't have a child unlike his friends. They had tried and tried for years to no avail. Ricardo blamed Camilla for being infertile but his manhood was bruised as well.
Camilla devised a plan to end her husbands lack of attention. Her neighbour had jokingly proposed it, she had laughed at the time but times had changed quickly. She would fake being pregnant. The following morning she got out of bed, rushed for the toilet and shoved a finger down her throat. Ricardo awoke from the puking noises (which Camilla might have exaggerated a bit) and rushed for the bathroom. It was then that Camilla's life changed. "I'm pregnant" she said with a pretentious exhausted half smile on her face. Ricardo spent the next week gloating over his soon-to-come son, who would be the strongest bull fighter in all of Spain. He made sure Camilla was always resting and never doing any housework. He would compliment on her beauty every morning and caress her stomach for hours.
Camilla enjoyed the attention, the admiring glances of his husband and the breakfasts in bed for a month until claws of worry started scratching her. What would she do in two months when her husband asked her why her stomach hadn't grown at all. She knew what she had to do. Every morning she would promise herself to sneak out and solve her problem but she couldn't find the courage. She had to sleep with another man and become pregnant.
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