She took €8,000 from me and disappeared. Years later, she arrived at my wedding in a luxury car—and the envelope she handed me changed everything.
Her name was Camila Rojas.
She wasn’t just my friend. She was the person you split your last cup of coffee with without checking your balance. The one who knew when you were pretending to be strong and called you out with a joke before the tears came. We promised each other we’d never disappear, no matter where life dragged us.
Of course, life did what it always does.
After graduation, our paths split cleanly. I found stability as an accountant in Guadalajara. Camila chased opportunity and landed a sales job in Monterrey. We didn’t talk every day anymore, but we checked in when it mattered—bad breakups, first promotions, burned dinners we laughed about over voice notes.
Until the message that changed everything.
“Mariana… I need to ask you for money. My dad has a heart condition. A hurricane destroyed our roof. Please. I swear I’ll pay you back in a year.”
I didn’t pause. I didn’t calculate. I didn’t doubt.
She was family.
I transferred €8,000—every cent I had saved—and borrowed another thousand from friends to cover what she needed. I remember watching the confirmation screen, my hands shaking, telling myself that money could always be earned again.
She cried on the phone.
She promised. She thanked me over and over. She called me the best friend she’d ever had.
And then—nothing.
Her number stopped working. Her social media vanished. Messages went unanswered. It was as if Camila Rojas had dissolved into thin air, leaving behind only silence and a hole in my chest.
I waited.
Months passed. Then years.
Betrayal slowly hardened into something quieter and more poisonous: shame. I told no one. I carried it alone, convincing myself that maybe I deserved it for trusting too easily.
Three years later, life moved forward anyway.
I was engaged to Daniel, a gentle systems engineer who believed my loyalty was my best quality. We planned a small, simple wedding at a hacienda near Tequila, Jalisco—sunlight spilling over stone walls, bougainvillea in full bloom, soft music drifting through the air. A hundred people who truly loved us.
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