Divorced, my husband threw an old pillow at me with a sneer. When I unzipped it to wash it, I was stunned by what was inside

There was nothing in his house that belonged to me, except for a few clothes and the old pillow I always slept with.

As I was pulling my suitcase out the door, Héctor threw the pillow at me, his voice full of sarcasm: – Take it and wash it. It’s probably about to fall apart. I took the pillow, my heart constricting. It really was old; the pillowcase was faded, with yellowed stains and torn spots.

It was the pillow I had brought from my mother’s home in a small town in Oaxaca when I went to university in the city, and I kept it when I became his wife because I had trouble sleeping without it.

He used to grumble about it, but I still kept it. I left that house in silence.

Back in my rented room, I sat dazed, looking at the pillow. Thinking about his sarcastic words, I decided to take off the pillowcase to wash it, at least so it would be clean and I could sleep well tonight, without dreaming of painful memories.

When I unzipped the pillowcase, I felt something strange. There was something lumpy inside the soft cotton fluff. I reached my hand in and stopped dead. A small paper bundle, wrapped very carefully in a nylon bag.

I opened it with trembling hands. Inside was a stack of money, all 500-peso bills, and a piece of paper folded into four.

I opened the paper. My mother’s familiar handwriting appeared, shaky and wobbly: “My daughter, this is the money I saved for you in case of hardship. I hid it in the pillow because I was afraid you’d be too proud to take it. No matter what, don’t suffer for a man, my dear. I love you.”