Mariana lowered her head. Her fingers care
Alejandro closed his eyes, consumed by guilt.
—Mariana…
"I was tired, Alejandro. I was in pain. I was afraid you'd think I was using the baby to keep you. So I decided to raise Mateo alone."
She covered her face with both hands. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"I was a coward," he said, his voice breaking. "I thought leaving was the easiest way to end the suffering, but I was just running away. From you, from myself, from everything I couldn't protect."
Mariana remained silent, her gaze fixed on Mateo, who continued to observe Alejandro with curiosity.
The boy stretched his arms out towards her again.
"Do you want to take it?" he asked in a low voice.
Alejandro looked up, trembling.
-Can he?
Mariana nodded.
When Mateo snuggled into her arms, Alejandro understood that the child's weight wasn't just that of a small body. He carried with him three years of absence, a shattered family, a love that had been buried before it even had a chance to bloom.
Mateo leaned against her chest as if that space had always been reserved for him.
"Dad," the boy repeated, this time more clearly.
Alejandro completely broke down.
It didn't matter that the others in the café were staring at them. It didn't matter the impeccable suit, the unfinished work on his desk, or the empty existence he had built to convince himself that he was okay.
She hugged her son tenderly, but gently, like someone holding something they fear might disappear.
"Forgive me, son," he whispered. "Forgive me for being late."
Mariana turned towards the window to hide her own tears.
She had imagined that scene countless times. She had felt anger, fear, wounded pride, and profound sadness. But seeing Alejandro weeping with Mateo in his arms, she understood that the past was irreparable, though perhaps the future still held something worth saving.
Alejandro looked at her.
"I'm not going to ask for your forgiveness today," he said. "I don't have that right. But let me be in your life. Let me earn my place. Not like before, not with empty promises. I want to prove it with actions."
Mariana held his gaze without saying a word.
"Mateo is already asking about his father," she said. "I didn't want him to grow up hating you. I never spoke ill of him."
Those words completely disarmed him.
"Thank you," Alejandro murmured. "Thank you for not destroying my image in your eyes, even though I did destroy many things between us."
Mariana took a deep breath.
I didn't do it for you. I did it for him.
Alejandro nodded.
-I know.
That afternoon they didn't talk about rekindling their relationship. They didn't talk about love, marriage, or second chances. They simply walked through Tlaquepaque Plaza, with Mateo between them, hand in hand, laughing with every step.
For the first time in three years, the arrival of night did not leave Alejandro with a feeling of emptiness.
The following days were strange, but full of human warmth.
Alejandro began spending every afternoon after work visiting Mateo. At first, he would arrive laden with expensive toys, new clothes, and candy. Mariana stopped him.
"You don't need to buy her affection," she said firmly. "What she needs is time."
And then Alexander began to learn.
She learned to change diapers at night, when Mateo still needed them. She learned to heat milk without burning him. She discovered that her son loved banana pancakes, but wouldn't even look at papaya. She noticed that when Mateo got tired, he would touch his left ear, the same habit Alejandro had as a child.
One Saturday, he took him to Agua Azul Park. Mateo chased pigeons until his little legs couldn't take it anymore, and Alejandro ended up sitting on a bench with the boy asleep in his lap.
Mariana was sitting nearby, watching.
"You're different," he said.
"I feel different," he replied. "I used to think that working late was a sign of maturity. Now I understand that maturity means getting home on time."
