LIKE HAPPINESS by Ursula Villarreal-Moura

Tatum Vega is living a contented life in Chile when an American journalist contacts her about her past relationship with Mateo Dominguez, a successful author.  Another woman has accused Mateo of sexual assault, and, although Tatum did not experience any physical abuse in her relationship with Mateo, she can imagine the possibility of it occurring with someone else.  Tatum and Mateo’s relationship was mostly platonic, even when he spent a month with her in Cape Cod while she was housesitting.  It all began when Tatum sent Mateo a fan letter, and he actually responded.  They became friends, but it was an odd friendship in which he called all the shots.  It’s clear that Tatum loved Mateo, but it’s also clear that his feelings for her were something entirely different.  He paid off most of her student loan, so what exactly did he expect in return?  The answer to that question is not revealed until very late in the novel, but it is not shocking.  In fact, it’s just sad, given that Tatum was pretty much devoted to him for a decade.  This was abuse of an entirely different nature, basically psychological, and for some reason Tatum was blind to it.  I found it very hard to respect her and not just because Mateo’s domination of her life was entirely consensual.  She also had a good education but lacked the impetus to look for a job that matched her qualifications.  On the other hand, she was not entirely spineless, as she did have the gumption to get out of other unhealthy situations, including dumping a lover who developed a drug habit.  The entire narrative is Tatum in first person addressing Mateo, as if telling her story will somehow deliver retribution.  I think not.  Catharsis, maybe.