A multimillionaire saw his ex-girlfriend, whom he had left six years earlier, waiting for an Uber with three children who looked exactly like him. What he didnât know was that those children were JuliĂĄn Castañeda. He had just left a meeting in Polanco, one of those endless meetings where everyone feels important and talks as if they were saving the world. He just wanted to get out of there. He got into his armored SUV, gave his driver his usual instructions, and took out his cell phone to check messages as they drove down a somewhat congested street. He glanced out the window without much
interest. Thatâs when he saw her. There she was, standing on the sidewalk right in front of a pharmacy, looking tired and a little desperate. Her hair was hastily pulled back, she was wearing simple clothes, and she was clutching a half-torn shopping bag. Beside her were three children, all identical: same eyes, same mouth, same expression. They were looking around as if waiting for something to happen, and those eyes were his. It couldnât be. It couldnât be. He leaned forward to get a better look, but just then another car cut in between them, and the image
disappeared. âStop!â JuliĂĄn shouted. The driver slammed on the brakes and turned around, worried. JuliĂĄn opened the door without waiting for a response, got out at street level, and looked around desperately. The sidewalk was crowded as always, but she wasnât there anymore. He walked quickly through the pedestrians, searching for her, ignoring the comments of those who recognized him. His heart was pounding. It was her. It was Valeria. And those children. After a few minutes, he saw her crossing the street hand in hand with the three children, getting into a gray car that was clearly an Uber. He froze, feeling his
stomach clench. He didnât know whether to run, scream her name, or just let her go. The car started and disappeared into the afternoon traffic. JuliĂĄn didnât move; he just stood there, watching how that scene had left him trembling. He returned to his truck almost automatically. He didnât say anything. The driver looked at him in the rearview mirror, but JuliĂĄn didnât say a word. He was completely out of it. The only thing he could think about was those three children with the same face as him. He grabbed his forehead, closed his eyes, and let out a sigh that came from the
depths of his soul. He hadnât seen Six years have passed since that early morning when he decided to leave without saying goodbye to Valeria. He didnât leave her a single message, nothing. They were fine, yes, but he had plans. He was about to close a deal that would change everything. He left thinking she would understand, that there would be time later to fix things, but that time never came. The car continued on its way to his apartment in Santa Fe. When he arrived, JuliĂĄn angrily took off his jacket and threw it onto the sofa. He poured himself a drink, even though it wasnât even 5 a.m. yet.
Late, he paced back and forth, remembering everything he had experienced with Valeria: her laughter, the way she gazed at him when he talked about his dreams, the way she hugged him when he came home late and just wanted to sleep. Then he thought about those childrenâhow could they be so much like him? He picked up his phone and searched social media. Nothing, not a photo, not a clue. Valeria had vanished from the digital world as if she had never existed. This made him feel strange because he had tried to forget her, but deep down, he
never could. It was the kind of love you keep locked away in a little box you never want to open again because you know it will hurt. He sat down at his computer, opened an encrypted folder where he kept personal files, and looked for old photos. There they were: Valeria at the beach, Valeria in her apartment, Valeria with her dog, Valeria in pajamas, laughing with her mouth full of popcorn. He looked at them one by one until he came across one where she was hugging him from behind, her face pressed against his neck. She had taken the photo herself
with her phone. He stared at it for a long time and then pursed his lips. He knew what he had to do. JuliĂĄn called his assistant, Mateo. âI need you to find someone. Her name is Valeria Ortega. I donât have an address. I only know she lives in Mexico City and has three children. And one more thing: could those children be mine?â There was an awkward silence on the other end of the line. âUnderstood, sir,â Mateo said. He hung up and stared out the window at the cityâthousands of lights, thousands of people. But at that moment, only one mattered to him. He didnât know if she was angry, if she hated him, or if she had simply
moved on. But he couldnât leave those children like this. He couldnât live with the doubt because if they were what he thought, then his life was about to change completely. The next morning, he woke up with only one thing on his mind: to find her. And this time, he wasnât going to leave without answers. JuliĂĄn didnât sleep well that night. He tossed and turned, stared at the ceiling, then got up, walked around the apartment, threw himself back down on the sheets, closed his eyes, and saw that scene again: Valeria standing in the street with her three children, so similar to
him that it even hurt. It was as if his past had suddenly returned without warning. He would have slapped her right in the face the next day. Before 8 a.m., he was already in his office. His team greeted him as always, respectfully, with forced smiles. He barely responded. He went straight to his office, closed the door, and stared out the window. The whole city continued with its routine: cars, people, noise, but inside, everything was chaos. He sat down at his desk, grabbed his cell phone, and started checking social media again. He searched for his name, his face.
There was no trace of Valeria, not on Facebook, not on Instagram, not anywhere. It was as if she had vanished into thin air. That only made him angrier. How could someone disappear so easily? How could he, with all his resources, have no idea about anything? Mateo arrived with coffee and some papers. JuliĂĄn barely looked at him. âSomething?â he asked bluntly. âNot yet, boss. Weâre tracking her down using birth certificates and school records. But if she changed her address and last name, itâs going to take a while.â JuliĂĄn nodded. He wasnât in the mood for conversation. When Mateo left, he was alone again.
He rested his elbows on the desk, grabbed his head with both hands, and closed his eyes. Memories began to flood back, as if someone were showing him a movie. He saw himself six years earlier, younger, less tired, with that ambition that practically oozed from his pores. At that time, he and Valeria lived together in a small apartment in Narbarte. They didnât have luxuries, but they had everything they needed. He worked from home, putting together presentations, looking for investors, trying to launch his first company. She was a preschool teacher. She would arrive
exhausted, but always with a smile. They would laugh. Theyâd order pizza at night for silly things, sometimes they couldnât afford gas, and theyâd shower with cold water, but they were together, and that was enough back then. But then an opportunity arose: a foreign fund wanted to invest in his project, but he had to move to Monterrey for a year. Thatâs when everything changed. He asked her to come with him, but she said she couldnât leave her job, her students, everything she had. They argued many times, each argument growing louder, until one early morning, without a word, he grabbed his backpack, his
laptop, a few papers, and left. He left her a silly note that said, âIâm sorry, I canât stay.â Thatâs how cowardly he was. He never heard from her again. He thought about writing to her several times, but he always put it off. Then his company exploded. The Tonis, the trips, the millions, the interviews, the luxuries arrived, but sometimes when he was alone, he remembered Valeria, and it hurt. Now all of that was coming back as if no time had passed, as if life were telling him, âYouâre not finished with this chapter.â Julian stood up from his chair
and walked to the wall where he had a display case filled with mementos, awards, photos with politicians, and recognitions from businesspeople. But there was a small box tucked away at the back, filled with things he hadnât touched in years. He took it down, placed it on the table, and opened it. Inside were a red string bracelet that Valeria had given him when they were starting out, a handwritten letter in her handwriting, a movie ticket, and an old, positive pregnancy test. He stared at it, his blood running cold. He didnât remember putting it away; maybe she had left it there.
Before he left, maybe back then he didnât want to understand, but now, seeing that proof and remembering the children, everything made sense. She had been pregnant, and he had left. He sat down again, stared at the ceiling, feeling anger, sadness, guiltâall mixed together. He didnât know what hurt more: having left her alone at that moment or having missed six years of those childrenâs lives. His cell phone vibrated; it was a message from Mateo. It said, âWe found something. Iâll send you the address in five minutes.
â JuliĂĄn stared at the screen, took a deep breath. He knew that message would take him straight to the place where everything changed. What he didnât know was if he was ready to face it. JuliĂĄn arrived at the address Mateo had sent him an hour later. He didnât want a driver. He drove alone in his truck with the music off and his hands sweating on the steering wheel. The area wasnât dangerous, but it wasnât like the places he used to go either. Now there were potholed streets, taco stands, people sitting outside houses, children playing soccer barefoot. When he parked the truck, he stood for
a few seconds looking at the old building with peeling paint. But it didnât look abandoned. He checked the number twice; it was there. He looked toward the third floor. He didnât know which apartment she lived in, but something in his chest told him she was there. At that moment, he didnât dare go up. He thought about knocking, but he didnât know what to say. âHi, Iâm the idiot who got you pregnant six years ago.â He laughed half-heartedly, ran a hand over his face, and decided to wait. Mateo had told him she left for work every day around
4:00. It was 3:30, so he stayed in the car, staring at the building as if it were an enemy. At 4:00 sharp, the building door opened. Valeria came out with the three children. They were all neatly combed and carrying small backpacks, walking like soldiers. She had a large bag over her shoulder and her cell phone in her hand. They were walking toward the corner where the minibuses passed. JuliĂĄn got out of the car without thinking; his legs moved on their own. He crossed the street, caught up with them on the sidewalk, and when he was less than three meters away, he said her name: Valeria. She turned around immediately
and froze. The children stopped too. Looking at him curiously, the silence lasted a few seconds that seemed like hours. She didnât say anything, she just stared at him as if she couldnât believe she was there. âCan we talk?â JuliĂĄn said in a low but firm voice. Valeria lowered her gaze, didnât greet him, didnât ask anything, she just told the children to go ahead and wait at the corner store. They obeyed without saying a word. Then she looked him straight in the eyes. âWhat are you doing here?â JuliĂĄn swallowed hard.
He knew where to start. âI saw you a few days ago. Were you waiting for an Uber with them?â She didnât answer, she just kept looking at him, not fearfully, but very coldly. âDonât tell me it was by chance that you found me,â he finally said in a dry tone, âbecause I donât believe you at all.â âIt was just a coincidence that day,â he replied quickly, âbut not today. Today I came because I need to know. To know if theyâre mine.â Valeria crossed her arms and took a deep breath as if she were holding back a scream. âAnd if they are, then what? What are you going to do? Are you going to take them away? Are you going to take them out of their lives and put them in yours, full of luxuries
and things they donât even understand? I donât just want to get to know them, to know about them. I didnât know anything, Valeria.â She looked at him with shining eyes, but didnât cry a single tear. âYou didnât know? Why didnât you care about staying? Why did you leave as if I didnât exist? You didnât even ask if I was okay. You left me with a note from JuliĂĄn.â He lowered his gaze. He had no way to defend himself against that. âYouâre right,â he said, barely audible. âAnd now what? Are you coming here to play the repentant father, the man who has everything and wants to fill the void with something he abandoned?â âIâm not here to do anything. Iâm here to
take on whatever I have to take on. If theyâre mine, I want to be here, not to take them away from you, not to change their lives.â Just to be there, Valeria looked at him with a mixture of anger and sadness. Then she saw the children who were already calling her from the little store. She looked at her watch. âI have to go. I work at 5. I donât have time for this.â âCan I see you another day?â he asked, almost begging. âI donât know. I donât know if I want that. I donât know if I want to bring you into our lives again. It was so hard for us to get ahead. Just one more time, a coffee, a neutral place. You choose.â She hesitated. She thought about it for a few seconds,
then took out her cell phone, opened the notes app, and wrote something. She showed him the screen: âTomorrow at 6 at that coffee shop. If youâre a minute late, Iâm leaving.â JuliĂĄn nodded. She turned around without saying anything else, went to get her children, took all three of their hands, and walked away as if nothing had happened. He stood there, feeling like a huge stone had been placed on his chest, but he also felt something else. There was a small opportunity, but there it was. JuliĂĄn couldnât concentrate on anything for the rest of the day. He canceled a meeting with investors, ignored his fiancĂ©eâs messages, and locked himself in his
apartment. He paced the living room like a lion. He was trapped inside, phone in hand, checking the cafeâs address every five minutes as if it were about to disappear. He had a date with Valeria the next day, but his mind couldnât wait any longer. Something inside him wouldnât let him rest; he had to know more. He poured himself a whiskey neat, took a long sip, and sat down at his computer. He checked his email, found Mateoâs direct contact, and sent him a short message: âI need to know more about Valeria. Anything you can find about schools.â
Children, work, anything urgent. Not even five minutes had passed when Mateo called him. âAre you sure, boss? This could be delicate. Do it. I want to know if theyâre mine. Iâm not going to wait for her to tell me.â Mateo hesitated but agreed. They hung up, and JuliĂĄn stayed there staring at the screen. His fingers were trembling. He knew it wasnât right, that he was crossing a line, but he couldnât help it. He had that feeling in his stomach, that mix of anxiety and fear. Something inside him was screaming that those children were his. He didnât need proof; he had
seen them. It was like looking in a mirror divided into three. He tried to sleep for a while, but it was useless. He went on social media again with no results. Then he Googled, âHow to know if a child is your son or daughter without official proof?â The answers were absurd. He shut everything down and threw himself on the couch, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. The clock read 2 a.m. The next day dawned with a light fog. JuliĂĄn got up early, more out of nerves than habit. He showered, changed his shirt three times, and left more than an hour
early. He arrived at the cafĂ©, asked for a table in the corner away from the windows, and sat down, his leg bouncing. He checked his watch every two minutes. People were coming and going, but Valeria hadnât arrived. When it was 10 minutes to 6, he thought she wasnât coming. His heart sank, but right at 6 oâclock sharp, the door opened, and there she was. She was alone, wearing a simple blouse, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wasnât wearing makeup or accessories, just her, as always. JuliĂĄn remembered her. He stood up without saying a word. Valeria approached, sat down across from him, and looked him
straight in the eye. âYou have 15 minutes,â she said. He nodded, sat back down, and took a breath. âThank you for coming. I didnât do it for you,â she said immediately. âI did it to drop off my things.â âClear.â JuliĂĄn lowered his gaze for a second and then looked back at her. âI want to know if the children are mine. Iâm not here out of remorse or guilt. Iâm here because I need to know the truth. And if I tell you yes, what are you going to do? Support them, be a part of their lives, even if you donât want me around?â She looked at him with a serious face. âYou canât arrive six years late and pretend that everything will just fall into place. You donât know what this has been like, raising them alone, working inâŠâ
Two places that work miracles with money, and you⊠you didnât even ask. I know. I have no excuse. So why now? Because I saw them. Because I saw myself in them. Because I canât pretend nothing happened. Valeria remained silent. It was clear she was about to say something stronger, but she didnât. Instead, she took a piece of paper from her bag. It was a folded sheet. âThis is the most Iâm going to give you for now,â she said, placing it on the table. JuliĂĄn grabbed it. It was a copy of one of the childrenâs birth certificates. He read the name Emiliano Ortega in the
blank space for the father. âWhy didnât you put me? Because you werenât there. Because I didnât even know if you wanted to be a part of it. And because I wasnât going to beg anyone to be a dad.â JuliĂĄn clutched the paper in his hands, then put it in his jacket. âAnd the other two, same case. They donât have a father registered.â He nodded, swallowing hard. He remained silent for a few seconds. âCan I see you talk to them? Not now. Theyâre not ready. They donât understand who you are, and I donât want you approaching them with promises you wonât keep. Iâm not going to let them down.â â You said that last time,â the phrase
hit him like a blow. JuliĂĄn didnât answer. Valeria looked at him harshly, but deep down, her eyes were also tired, as if she were fed up with carrying everything alone. âCan I help you?â he asked, almost in a whisper. âAnything? School, food, clothes. Iâm not asking for anything, just let me do it. I donât want your money.â âJuliĂĄn, itâs not about money, itâs about them.â She looked at him silently, then checked the time. âYour timeâs up.â She got up, grabbed her bag, and left. She didnât turn around, she didnât say goodbye. JuliĂĄn stayed there alone with his cold coffee and his head full of questions.
Doubt was eating him up inside, and even though she wouldnât confirm it outright, he already knew. He felt it in his bones. Those children were his, and he wasnât going to stop until he proved it. JuliĂĄn had been turning the same idea over in his mind for two days. Valeria wasnât telling him all this, but he was absolutely certain. There were many things that didnât add up: the birth certificates without a father, her complete disappearance from social media, the way she looked at him with so much resentment. There was a story there that he He didnât know and couldnât
wait any longer for her to tell him willingly, so he decided to look for someone who knew. He remembered Jimena, a mutual friend from when he and Valeria were together. She was one of those nice, cool, gossipy, good-natured girls who knew everything about everyone, and if anyone could have a clue about what happened to Valeria after she left, it was her. He sent her a direct message: âI need to see you. Itâs about Valeria.â Jimena replied quickly: âValeria Ortega, you looking for Valeria after 1000 years? This is going to be good.â They agreed to meet.
They met at a restaurant in La Condesa. She arrived late, as always, with her boisterous energy and a dress that drew attention from across the street. She sat down across from JuliĂĄn, smiled at him as if no time had passed, and leisurely picked up the menu. âNow youâre going to tell me why you ran away like a coward years ago and now youâre back here acting like youâve lost something?â JuliĂĄn wasnât in the mood for jokes. âJimena, I need to know something. What happened to Valeria after I left?â She looked at him, put down the menu, and crossed her arms. âWhy are you asking that now?
Because I saw her. Sheâs here in the city. She has three children.â Jimenaâs eyes widened. âWhat? Three? And theyâre mine. I know it, even if she wonât tell me. I know it.â Jimena was silent for a few seconds, then sighed. âI knew this was going to happen someday.â âDid you know what? Look, I donât know all the details, but I do know that after you left, Valeria disappeared. One day she quit her job, closed her Facebook account, stopped answering calls and messages. Nobody knew anything. I thought sheâd left the country or something, but one day About a year later, I
ran into her at a small store. She was pushing a double stroller and carrying a child. I almost fainted. I asked her, âWhatâs up? What happened? Why didnât you ever say anything? You just said there was nothing to say.â JuliĂĄn clenched his jaw. I could feel his heart beating faster. âDidnât she tell you they were mine?â âNo, but she didnât have to say it. I mean, hello, they were like photocopies of you. And honestly, the way she mentioned you was weird, like she was in pain but also wanted to stop talking about it. She told me she was fine, that she was
managing, that she had help from an aunt, and that she didnât need anyone, not you, not me, not anyone.â JuliĂĄn was silent. His face was burning. I didnât know if it was from shame or anger. Where did she live back then? I donât know. She didnât want to tell me. I only knew that she worked at a daycare near Istapalapa, but she didnât last long there. Later, I found out she was fired because a jealous dad found out she was a single mother with triplets and made a scene. âSee why Iâm telling you no?â She had it easy and no one else helped her, no one. She didnât want help, she
shut herself off in her own world, she didnât want anyone to see her upset. She was always that stubborn, strong but stubborn. JuliĂĄn leaned back in his chair, his shoulders, his head, his soul felt heavy. âWhy didnât she tell me? Why didnât she look for me?â Jimena looked at him with a raised eyebrow. âSeriously? Are you asking me that after leaving her speechless?â âLook, I love you, but you did something awful.â
âValeria didnât look for you because she didnât want to beg, because she knew that if you werenât there to stay, it wasnât worth having you around. You chose to leave, she chose to follow.â The silence became uncomfortable. JuliĂĄn didnât know what to say. He had never heard all of this so bluntly. He had always carried the guilt, yes, but hearing how things really were was different. It hurt him deeply. Jimena looked at him more calmly. âAre you going to get a DNA test?â âYes, soon, but I donât think I need it anymore.â âWell, you better be serious if you go back into that situation, because if you leave again, this time thereâs no going back.â JuliĂĄn nodded. He didnât
promise anything, he didnât say anything grand; he just knew that from that moment on, there was no turning back. That afternoon, JuliĂĄn couldnât take it anymore. He didnât want any more twists and turns, or hints, or loose ends. He had spoken with Jimena, he had seen the birth certificate, he had felt that pang in his chest from the first moment he saw the children, and he was tired of carrying the doubt. So he went to look for Valeria. He waited outside the building where she lived. He called beforehand, didnât warn her, just stood there leaning against his truck with a sour look on his face. He was determined to
talk and wasnât going to leave without answers. He didnât care anymore if she got angry, yelled, or told him to get lost. All he wanted was to hear the whole truth. At 5:30, he saw her come out with the three children. They were dressed the same as last time, with small backpacks, their hair neatly combed, talking amongst themselves. She was walking quickly, with that âIâm lateâ look that all mothers who do a million things a day have. When she saw him, she stopped dead in her tracks. âWhat are you doing here?â she said without moving. âWe need to talk.â He replied bluntly. âNot again with the
same thing. We already talked. I gave you space. I told you what I had to say. What more do you want? I want the whole truth, no beating around the bush.â ââThe children stared at the scene, not quite understanding. JuliĂĄn crouched down and spoke to them with a forced smile. âMay I speak with your mother for a moment, just a little while?â They looked at him curiously. One of them, Emiliano, was the first to answer, âYouâre my motherâs friend.â
âValeria immediately went ahead. âGo to the juice stand. Iâll catch up in five minutes. Donât wander off.â The children obeyed. As soon as they were a few steps away, she turned around, arms crossed and a sharp gaze. âWhat part of âI donât want this anymoreâ didnât you understand? I donât care if you want it or not. Iâm not here to fight. Iâm here because itâs my right to know. Itâs not just your story, Valeria, itâs mine too. Mine too.â She mocked with an ironic laugh. âDo you remember that? Iâm years too late. Because when you left, you didnât say, âItâs our story.â You said, âIâm leaving.â Just like that, you didnât give me a choice. I know, Iâve been told, and I donât deny it, but
Iâm here now, not to redeem myself, nor to ask for your forgiveness a hundred times. Iâm here because Iâm not going to go on without knowing the truth. I want to know if they are my children. Yes, they are. She blurted out the phrase, knocking him down. It wasnât shouted, it wasnât angry, it was dry, cold, hard, like when someone throws a glass on the floor and you donât need to see it to know itâs broken. All three of them, yes, all three are yours, JuliĂĄn. He closed his eyes for a second, everything inside him churned, his throat tightened, he opened his mouth but no words came out. Valeria looked at him with red eyes, holding back whatever it was she had
inside. She didnât cry, she didnât break down, but it was clear she was on the verge. And before you ask, yes, I knew from the first day. I knew I was pregnant. A week after you left, I thought about calling you, about looking for you, but I couldnât, I didnât want to. I was scared, I was angry, I was ashamed, all at once. So I dealt with it alone. Why didnât you tell me anything? Because you wouldnât have believed me. Because you were in another world. Because I was a memory to you, not a person. And because I wasnât going to raise my children with someone who left without looking back. JuliĂĄn gritted his
teeth. You have no idea how many times I thought about coming back, about calling you, but I was afraid. I told myself youâd be fine, that Iâd ruin everything. And what are you doing now then? Are you coming to fix it with a hug and a check? Iâm not coming to ask you for a chance, not with you, but with them. Valeria looked at him. This time she didnât answer immediately. She thought about it, crossed her arms, and took a deep breath. They donât know who you are. Theyâve never met you. Theyâve never asked me for a dad because they havenât needed one, and now you appear out of nowhere with a face like, âIâm here
to be responsible.â Itâs not that easy. I donât want it to be easy. I just want you to let me approach them little by little, with respect, calmly. Iâm not asking you to forgive me. Iâm asking you to let me get to know them. And what are you going to tell them? That youâre their magic dad who appeared after six years? I donât know. I have no idea how to do this. I only know that if I leave again, I wonât be able to live with that. Valeria remained silent. The silence between them was so strong that⊠They could hear car horns in the background and a woman shouting the price of tamales. After a while, she spoke: â
Iâll think about it, but if you ever enter their lives, you canât leave. You canât do this halfway because if youâre going to hurt them, Iâd rather you never see them.â âIâm not going to leave,â JuliĂĄn said without hesitation. Valeria nodded slowly. She didnât say anything more. She walked over to where the children were, took their hands, and left without looking back. But this time something was different. This time she hadnât kicked him out; she had let him stay. One step, however small, was already a start. Ever since Valeria told him the children were his, JuliĂĄn couldnât think of anything else. He didnât care about work, the unanswered emailsâŠ
Important calls piled up, went straight to voicemail, everything else disappeared. Only three names existed in his head: Emiliano, Leo, and Mateo, his sons. But despite what Minersin had said, something inside him wouldnât leave him alone. He wanted to be sure, he needed to be sure, not because he doubted her, but because he had a crazy need to confirm that he wasnât dreaming. It was as if his head was asking for physical proof, a piece of paper, something that would tell him, âYes, they are yours, thereâs no going back.â And although he knew it was
wrong, that it wasnât the right path, he let himself be carried away one Thursday at the school exit where the children were going. JuliĂĄn waited inside his truck, parked a block away, hidden behind tinted windows. He had found out which school it was through Mateo. He didnât tell Valeria anything, didnât ask for permission, he just went. He had a plan in mind and he was going to carry it out without thinking too much about the consequences. When he saw the children come out, he felt a pit in his stomach. They were walking together, laughing, playing with their backpacks. They looked so much like him that it even made him want to cry. A
tall man with a beard who worked as an assistant at the school was guiding them to a small bench while they waited for someone to pick them up. JuliĂĄn got out of the car with a small bag in his hand and walked towards them with a firm step. âHello,â he said, smiling. âDo you remember me?â âIâm JuliĂĄn, your momâs friend.
â Emiliano recognized him instantly. âYes, the one who spoke to you outside the building. Listen, can I ask you something? Itâs for a surprise, but I need something of yours. Does anyone have any gum, a toothbrush, or anything youâve used?â Leo pulled a chewed lollipop from his pocket. JuliĂĄn bent down, carefully picked it up, put it in a small plastic bag, and smiled. âPerfect, thanks, champ. Youâll see what a great surprise I have for you.â The children looked at him, not quite understanding, but didnât say anything else. Just as he was leaving, Valeria appeared, carrying her bag in a hurry as always. She saw him from afar and frowned. She walked
straight toward him. âWhat are you doing here? I was just passing by. I wanted to see the children come out, thatâs all.â âDid you touch them?â âOf course not.â She crossed her arms, not believing him. âI donât want you hanging around without warning.â âUnderstood?â âYes, I just wanted to see you.â Valeria took the three of them by the hand and left without saying goodbye. JuliĂĄn stood there for a while, watching them walk away. Then he went back to the car, opened the glove compartment, and He placed the small bag with the lollipop inside a special box. The next day he sent it to a private laboratory and requested a test.
Urgent DNA test. He already had samples of his own saliva saved. Everything was ready. The result arrived three days later: positive. Emiliano was his son. It said it in large letters in an encrypted email that he could barely read without his hands trembling. He sat in front of the computer, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. He knew it, he felt it, but seeing it there in an official document with numbers, codes, and percentages shook his world. That day he bought toysâthree identical onesânew books, backpacks, shoes, clothes. He filled the trunk with things he thought they might need. He sent
Valeria a message: âI need to talk to you. Itâs urgent.â She didnât answer the first, second, or third message; she left him on read. Two days later, he showed up unannounced at her work. Valeria was leaving a coffee shop where she washed dishes in the afternoons. When she saw him, she stopped dead in her tracks. âWhat are you doing here? Are you following me? We need to talk. Itâs important.â âWhat did you do now?â âI took a test.â She looked at him confused. âWhat DNA test?â âI used a sample from Emiliano.â âIâm sorry, I needed it.â Valeria pushed him angrily.
âAre you sick or what? You canât go around collecting my things.â âChildren without permission? Who do you think I am? Iâm their father!â JuliĂĄn shouted. People turned around, some stopped. She lowered her voice, but her face burned. âYou have no right! You have no damn right! You lied to me, you deceived me, you pretended you just wanted to meet them, and you orchestrated this behind my back. I was afraid youâd shut me out again. I needed to know. I couldnât stand the doubt anymore.â âAnd that gives you permission to invade our space like this? No, but I did it anyway, and I donât regret it because now I know itâs real, that Iâm not crazy, that I have children, that
Iâm not imagining them.â Valeria froze. She didnât know whether to scream, cry, or hit him, but in the end, she just looked at him with disappointment. âAnd now what? Are you going to test the other two too? Are you going to buy them love with new toys and pretty pictures? I donât want to buy anything. I want to be here for real.â She looked at him for a long time, then turned around, went back into the cafe, and closed the door without looking back. JuliĂĄn stayed outside alone with the bags in the trunk, his hands empty, but inside him, the obsession was no longer doubt, it was certainty, and he wasnât going to
stop. Daniela LujĂĄn had a knack for noticing when something was wrong, and JuliĂĄn, though very good at business, at keeping a poker face, and at getting his way with her, couldnât pretend for long. Something in his attitude had changed: he arrived late, he got distracted in meetings, he remained silent during dinners, he left his cell phone face down, something he never did before, and worst of all, he had become cold, as if his head were in another world, one where she no longer existed. She watched him for days without
She said nothing, she just analyzed him silently with her eyes while he believed everything was under control, until one day while JuliĂĄn was showering, Daniela unlocked his cell phone. It wasnât difficult; he still used the same password heâd had for years. She went straight to the messages. The first thing she read was, âI need to talk to you. Itâs urgent. It was for someone named Valeria.
â She scrolled down, checked more short but intense messages, words like âchildren,â âproof,â and âIâm sorry, I need to be with you.â Her body froze; she felt anger rise in her chest. She didnât cry, she didnât scream, she just turned off the screen, left her phone where it was, and walked away as if nothing had happened. That night she didnât say a word, she simply ate dinner across from JuliĂĄn with a forced smile, asking about business, feigning interest, but inside she was seething. She knew she couldnât confront him yet; first she needed more, she needed proof, and she was going to get it. The next day she sent her assistant, Lucero, to investigate. She gave her a name, Valeria Ortega, and asked for a
full report. It wasnât the first time he had used his contacts for personal matters; he had done it before, and she knew exactly who to call. Meanwhile, she began to follow JuliĂĄn. She hired a driver with clear orders not to lose sight of him. JuliĂĄn moved between the office, a public school in Itacalco, an old building in Narbarte, and a coffee shop where he met with a woman. The driver took photos and sent them to Daniela. She looked at them all, one by one, and with each image, her rage grew. When she finally had
all the information, she read it through gritted teeth. Valeria A single mother and teacher with no support network, no known partner, three children, age 6, born 6 months after she and JuliĂĄn broke up, felt humiliated, used, betrayed. She wasnât just hiding something from him; she was hiding the biggest thing a person could have: a parallel family. Because thatâs what it was, even though he hadnât been present all those years, even though she was just getting to know them now, the facts were the same: he had children with another woman and hadnât told her. That night she waited for him, awake,
sitting on the couch with the folder in her hand when he entered the apartment. âAre you okay?â JuliĂĄn asked, seeing her serious face. âWhat do you think?â she replied without moving. He looked at her strangely, took off his jacket, but when he saw the folder in her hand, he understood everything. âWhere did you get that? Iâm not stupid, JuliĂĄn.â He sat down on the other side of the couch in silence. âSince when?â she asked. âNot long ago, I didnât know.â âAnd were you planning to tell me, or were you going to marry me hiding this from me? I donât know, I didnât even think about it. It all happened so fast.â
âDid you sleep with her while you were with me? Wasnât it before? A long time ago? I didnât know anything.â Daniela stared at him, not entirely believing him, but she didnât interrupt. âAnd what do you plan to do now?â âI donât know, Iâm processing it. I donât want to abandon them. I donât want to repeat the same mistakes. And where do I fit into all this?â JuliĂĄn didnât know what to say. He remained silent as if every word that came to mind was another bombshell. Daniela stood up, walked around the room, taking deep breaths, then turned and looked at him with that face of a woman who knows she holds the
power in that moment. âIâm going to tell you something, JuliĂĄn. Iâve been with you since you were a nobody, before you were a star businessman, since you slept in your office to avoid paying rent. I helped you build everything you have. I used my contacts, I invested money, I bet on you, and I appreciate it. I donât want your gratitude, I want loyalty.â He remained silent. âIf you decide to stay with that woman and those children, you and I are finished. And Iâm not just leaving, Iâm taking everything I can: investors, contracts, image.â âIâm going
to make you lose more than just a relationship. Youâre going to end up alone. Do you understand that, JuliĂĄn?â He looked at her, surprised. He had never seen her like this, cold and calculating. It wasnât a threat; it was a declaration. Daniela left that night without saying goodbye, but before leaving, she left an envelope on the table. Inside was a copy of Emilianoâs birth certificate and a handwritten message: âI do know how to play dirty, JuliĂĄn. You decide how this ends.â JuliĂĄn woke up that Monday with a splitting headache. He hadnât slept a wink since Daniela left, leaving him with that envelope and
that clear threat. He hadnât had a momentâs peace. His mind was filled with noise, thoughts, doubts, anger. His cell phone was full of messages from the team, missed calls from partners, and worst of all, a scheduled meeting with the board of directors of his company, to which Daniela also belonged. He dressed listlessly, got into his truck, and drove straight to the office. As soon as he got out to the private parking lot, he saw Danielaâs black Audi there in its place and knew she had come to do what she had promised. Nothing was a coincidence with her. If she told him she was going to ruin him, it was
because she had the means to⊠He did it when he entered the boardroom. Everyone was already seated: the main partners, the accountants, the legal director, and of course, Daniela, sitting in the back in her white dress, her smile controlled as if absolutely nothing had happened. But he knew her; he knew that face was just a disguise for someone who carried dynamite in her purse. Julian, one of the partners, said, âDaniela told us thereâs something urgent we need to discuss with you.â He froze for a second. Daniela spoke up. âYes, I requested this meeting.â
Because I think itâs important that we talk about stability, reputation, leadershipâthings that have been a bit weak lately. The tone was friendly but full of venom. JuliĂĄn stared at her without interrupting. She continued speaking as if she were giving a lecture. âWeâve all noticed that youâve been disconnected. Your performance has dropped, your participation in key projects has been minimal, and well, there are concerns about your public image.â One of the investors shifted uncomfortably in his chair. âWhat exactly are you talking about?â
JuliĂĄn asked firmly. Daniela looked at him with a smile that burned with what everyone already knows or is about to find out: your personal life, JuliĂĄn. The one that has kept you distracted, running after an ex-girlfriend and some kids no one knew, and on top of that, leaving deals unfinished. He tensed up. He hadnât thought she was going to talk about it like this in front of everyone. âMy personal life has nothing to do with what we do here.â âOf course it does,â she interrupted. âBecause when your name is in the media, when your personal decisions affect the companyâs credibility, of course it has everything to do with it, and believe me,
questions have already started being asked, and not all the answers will be helpful.â The silence grew thick, leaving them in a good position. JuliĂĄn clenched his fists on the table. He knew she could do it, that she had contacts in the press, that she could manipulate headlines, that she knew where to strike. âWhat do you want?â Daniela finally blurted out, crossing her arms. âI want you to put everything in its place, to distance yourself from Valeria Ortega, from her children, from that story, and to refocus on what really matters. And if I donât, then Iâm going to
leak everything, from your neglect of responsibilities to the dirtiest details. You know what sells? The story of the millionaire who left his girlfriend pregnant with triplets and now wants to come back as a hero. Itâs going to explode on social media. Youâre going to lose clients, trust, support. You wouldnât do that. You donât know me as well as you think.â An awkward silence fell. No one said anything, no one defended him; they just looked at him as if they were already waiting for his decision. JuliĂĄn left the room without a word, locked himself in his office, closed the blinds, sat down, rested his elbows on the
desk, and clutched his head in both hands. Everything he had built, everything⊠The one he had cared for for years was at risk, and the worst part was that he felt he deserved it for having abandoned her, for having come back late, for not knowing how to handle this without breaking something. That day he didnât go to see Valeria, he didnât answer her messages, he stayed locked up, he didnât even eat, he just kept thinking about what he was going to do. He felt that if he took one path he would lose something; if he chose Valeria and the children, Daniela would destroy his career.
If he chose to protect the company, he would be betraying his own flesh and blood, three children who hadnât asked for anything, who were only there because one day he decided to leave. At the end of the day, when no one else was left in the office, JuliĂĄn stood in front of the bathroom mirror. He looked at himself as he hadnât in a long time. Dark circles under his eyes, a long beard, a dull gazeâhe didnât recognize himself. He felt torn to shreds, and there alone, his mind a mess, he understood that he couldnât keep playing both sides. Daniela was right about one thing: he had to make a decision. But what she didnât
know was that, even though it would cost him everything, he had already chosen a side. He just needed the courage to say it out loud. After Danielaâs threat, JuliĂĄn felt trapped. It was as if he suddenly lost control of his own life. At his company, he had to act as if nothing was happening, as if everything were in order, as if his world wasnât crumbling around him. But when he was with Valeria and the children, everything was different. There, he wasnât the CIO, the businessman, the guy who had to make cold, hard decisions. There, he was just JuliĂĄn. And even though He felt
good, but he knew he couldnât live like this for long. It was like walking on a thin wire, waiting for it to snap at any moment. The days slipped by in excuses. In the morning, he would arrive at the office and pretend to be focused. He would meet with clients, talk about numbers, sign papers, and sometimes have lunch with Daniela. She would treat him as if everything were on pause, but with that look that said she hadnât forgotten a single word of the threat, every now and then she would throw out passive-aggressive comments, like when
she said casually, âDonât be late today. Youâre too old to be chasing after children.â He pretended to laugh, but inside he felt watched. In the afternoons, instead, he changed his demeanor. Heâd call Valeria, and if she agreed, heâd pick up the childrenânot in the armored SUV, but in a simpler car, one that wouldnât attract attention. Sometimes heâd take them to the park, or for ice cream, or to the moviesâalways simple things, but things that excited them as if it were Christmas. At first, Valeria wouldnât stay; sheâd let them go with him, but with
a thousand instructions: âDonât give them candy after 6:00; the middle one gets carsick easily, so drive slowly; the little one doesnât like being hugged suddenly.â Typical mom advice, which JuliĂĄn knew all too well. He mentally noted them down as if they were sacred commandments and followed them to the letter. Over time, Valeria started staying for a little while. First, sheâd only approach when the children returned, then sheâd sit on the same bench while they played. Later, she agreed to go for coffee, and one afternoon, without planning it, the five of them ended up in a smallâŠ
At a neighborhood pizzeria, laughing at something silly Leo said, it was the first time Valeria smiled without that burden she carried. JuliĂĄn began to truly know his sons. Emiliano was the leader, the one who talked the most, the one who asked everything. Leo was quieter but very observant, and Mateo, the youngest, was the most tender, always seeking contact, the one who leaned on his shoulder without asking permission. One ordinary afternoon, in the middle of an impromptu picnic in a park, JuliĂĄn was helping them inflate some balloons. Emiliano looked at him intently and blurted out, âYou
âre my dad.â JuliĂĄn froze, holding the half-inflated balloon to his mouth. Valeria, who was a few steps away, turned around, her eyes wide. âWhy do you say that?â she asked nervously. âBecause he looks like us,â Emiliano replied, with the logic of a child who sees everything more clearly than adults. âHe takes care of us, buys us things, and knows how to call us without confusing us. Dads do that.â JuliĂĄn put down the balloon, crouched down to his level, and answered with all the calm he could muster, âYes, Emiliano, Iâm your dad.â The boy looked at him without saying anything else, then turned around, ran
to his brothers and shouted, âI know who it is!â Valeria approached him immediately. JuliĂĄn thought she was going to scold him, that she was going to tell him he had crossed the line, but she only said in a low voice, âAre you sure you can handle this?â He looked at her straight in the eye. âIâm not sure about anything, but Iâm not running away again.â That night, JuliĂĄn returned to his apartment. Daniela wasnât there; she had gone out to dinner with some business partners. He sat on the sofa, turned on the television without paying attention, and thought about everything he had experienced that day: the childrenâs laughter,
Valeriaâs gaze, the way the youngest had taken his hand as they crossed the street, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And he felt afraid because, however happy he felt there, he knew he had a ticking time bomb in the other half of his life. Daniela was waiting for a mistake, just one, and when that happened, she was going to press the button. She was going to destroy everything. But even knowing that, he couldnât walk away, not now, not after hearing the word âDadâ for the first time, spoken with such innocence, not after seeing that family he never thought heâd have and that now he didnât
want to lose for anything in the world. That Friday seemed like any other. Valeria was on her second shift at the cafeteria. The children got out of school at 4, and JuliĂĄn, as had become customary in recent weeks, had offered to pick them up. She accepted, no longer with doubts, no longer with fear. She was beginning to trust him, even if only a little. She saw how he looked after them, how he listened to them, how he knew them. JuliĂĄn left the office a little earlier. He was happy and had action figures in his backpack that he had bought for each of them. He planned to take them out for hamburgers and then see a movie.
He was watching a movie in his apartment, excited as if he were experiencing a part of his life he didnât know existed, a part he liked more than any award ceremony or contract signing. As he was arriving at school, his cell phone rang. An unknown number answered without thinking, âHello, is this Mr. JuliĂĄn Castañeda?â âYes, this is he. Weâre calling from Hospital Ăngeles del Pedregal. One of the children in your care was brought in as an emergency. Heâs in the ER.â JuliĂĄnâs heart sank. He didnât know if he screamed or just thought he did. His heart raced as if heâd run a marathon. He hung up
without another word, shifted into first gear, and sped off. On the way, he called Valeria twice, nothing. The third time, nothing. He texted her on WhatsApp: âLeo had an accident. Iâm going to the hospital. Iâll let you know as soon as I know something.â When he arrived, he didnât park. He left the truck badly parked in the driveway, threw the keys to the floor, and ran inside. He asked for the childâs full name. They sent him straight to the ER. A doctor came out a few minutes later. âAre you the father?â JuliĂĄn hesitated for a second, just one, then said, âYes, Iâm the father.â The boy had a hard fall, hit his head, and lost
consciousness. We did a CT scan; thereâs no fracture, but weâre going to keep him under observation. He has a minor contusion. Heâs stable, but we have to keep an eye on him. I can see him for a few minutes. They took him to a stretcher where Leo was sleeping with an IV in his arm and a bandage on his forehead. He looked small and fragile, nothing like the boy who ran and jumped all day. JuliĂĄn sat next to him and held his hand. âIâm here, son. Iâm not going anywhere. Everythingâs going to be alright.â He didnât cry, but his eyes were trembling. Twenty minutes passed, and Valeria came running in, pale and disheveled, still wearing her
work apron. She stormed into the room, pushed open the door without asking, and went straight to Leo. âWhat happened? What happened to him? He fell at recess,â JuliĂĄn said softly. âThey called me because he was on the emergency list. You werenât answering.â Valeria took the boyâs face in her hands, spoke softly to him, kissed his hand and forehead, then turned to look at JuliĂĄn. Her eyes were red. But she wasnât crying. Thank you for coming. Youâre welcome. I was nearby, going to get them. Did they tell you what happened? Yes, he tripped on the stairs, fell backward, was unconscious for a few minutes, but heâs okay,
theyâre just going to keep an eye on him. She nodded, staring at her son, stroking his hair. Can I stay with him? he asked. Yes, I already spoke with the nurse. Theyâre going to give him a room in a little while. You can both stay, and you too, Julian. He looked at her calmly. Iâll stay too if you let me. Valeria didnât say anything, but she didnât kick him out, she didnât ask him to leave, she just nodded as if something inside her didnât want to fight anymore. Hours later, in the room already assigned, Leo woke up. The first thing he did was look at the two of them. Where am I? In the hospital, my love?
Valeria said with a nervous smile. Leo looked at JuliĂĄn. âAnd youâre here too? Of course, I wasnât going to leave without seeing you.â The boy smiled. âDid you bring me juice?â âYes, and some dinosaurs.â âThen stay.â Valeria looked at him, and JuliĂĄn, without saying a word, understood that he no longer had to ask permission. That night they took turns watching the boy; while one slept on the couch, the other sat by the bed. They didnât talk much, but there were looks, gestures, silences that said more than words. The next morning, Valeria brought him coffee. âThank you for not letting go.
Thank you for letting me stay. Iâm not doing this out of gratitude; Iâm doing it because I understand now that youâre not going anywhere.â She looked at him with a lump in her throat. âThen letâs do this right.â Daniela doesnât forgive; she never has, and even less so when she feels ridiculed. For her, the fact that everyone knows her fiancĂ© has three children with another woman was the worst thing that could happen to her, not only because of pride but also because of power. In her world, respect is earned with control, with fear, with a perfect image, and Valeria, with her innocent face, her
simple clothes, and those children⊠They didnât ask to be born this way. She was taking all of that away from them without even trying. Daniela didnât scream, didnât make a scene. She just took a deep breath, smoothed her hair in front of the mirror, and said to Lucero, her assistant, âWeâre going to make that woman disappear.
â Lucero looked at her carefully, like when you know you shouldnât ask but you canât stay silent either. âWhat do you mean by what I said? I want no one to ever hire her again. I want the city to see her as a danger, not a victim. But she hasnât done anything. I donât need her to have done anything; I just need it to look like she did.â The next day, Daniela moved as only she knew how. She had a network of contacts that covered digital media, light news portals, gossip accounts on social networks, and even a couple of crime reporters who owed her favors. And she began her operation. First, a small article on a
local page, headline: âScandal at preschool: teacher hides her past and works with children without a current license,â accompanied by a blurry photo of Valeria entering her workplace with a backpack. Then came the comments on social media: anonymous people who said they had had problems with her, mothers who supposedly remembered her. From years ago, false stories mixed with half-truths were enough to sow doubt, enough to tarnish her reputation, and it worked. In less than three days, the director of the preschool where she worked called Valeria to her office: âWe need to suspend you.â
âWhile we investigate the situation,â he said in an uncomfortable voice, âitâs not personal, but there is pressure from the parents; the schoolâs image is at stake.â Valeria didnât understand anything. âWhat did I do? Itâs not about what you did, itâs about what people think you did.â She left there with her heart in her throat, walking aimlessly. Her hands were sweating. Her cell phone rang. It was JuliĂĄn. âIs everything okay?â he asked calmly. âI just got suspended from preschool.â âWhat? Why? I donât know. Theyâre saying thereâs a problem with my record, that there was an old complaint, that people are talking badly about me on
social media.â âWhat complaint? I donât know, JuliĂĄn. I donât know what theyâre talking about. I never did anything wrong.â He knew at that moment who was behind it. He didnât need proof, he just felt it. Because if anyone could invent a scandal that fast, it was Daniela. He hung up and called Mateo. âI need you to investigate if anyone from Danielaâs team has been active in the media or leaked things quickly.â Meanwhile, Valeria arrived at the apartment. As soon as she crossed the threshold, she saw a camera pointed at her from the sidewalk across the street. It was a guy with a long lens, one of those guys who look for a scandalous photo to
sell. She slammed the door shut and peeked through the curtain. The guy was still there, waiting. She didnât sleep that night. The children did, but she didnât check her phone constantly. She read the messages she received, some supportive, many full of hate, from people she didnât know saying horrible things to her, calls from strange numbers. One woman even insulted her loudly when she went to buy bread. JuliĂĄn went to see her the next morning. She greeted him with a face that said she couldnât take it anymore, dark circles under her eyes, her voice subdued. âI donât want the children to go
through this. Weâre going to solve this.â âHow come they kicked me out of daycare? They told me they were going to check my background.â âWhat background? Having children alone is now a crime?â âYouâre not alone, and weâre going to clear your name.â âWhat if thereâs no way? What if I canât go out in the street without being looked at like Iâm a disgrace? No, theyâre not going to grow up seeing their mother humiliated by a lie.â She looked at him, exhausted, but there was fire in her eyes. âIt was Daniela, wasnât it?â JuliĂĄn didnât answer. He didnât need to. That afternoon, while the children played with Legos in the living room, Valeria sat
on the sofa, staring into space, and for the first time, she said aloud something she had kept inside for years: âIâm not going to let them destroy me again.â Not now, Julian didnât realize the blow until it was already upon him. It all happened in a matter of days, as if someone had pulled a rope and suddenly everything crumbled. First, there was a call from a foreign investor, the usual thing, that they were worried about the public image, that they had read rumors that the company was experiencing personal instability.
At the management level, JuliĂĄn tried to calm the waters, saying everything was under control, but it was too late; the seeds of doubt had been sown. Then came the emails. The main partner in one of his biggest projects canceled a deal theyâd been preparing for months. He used pretty words to cover it up: internal restructuring, changes in focus, new opportunities. But JuliĂĄn knew perfectly well what it meant: he was being left alone, and behind it all, most likely, was Daniela. She hadnât dropped one bombshell; sheâd dropped several, all at once.
She let public opinion judge him for his personal life. She leaked details of his absences, how he had prioritized personal interests in the middle of important negotiations. Someoneâsurely Lucero, his loyal assistantâeven leaked a copy of one of his childrenâs birth certificates. The document went viral on a financial forum with the title âThe Millionaire Who Forgot His Children.â The damage was done. Mateo, his assistant, came into his office one afternoon with a funeral-like expression. âTwo more partners got out,â he told him, leaving the papers on the
desk, âand the bank didnât renew the line of credit.â âDo you think your reputation affects JuliĂĄnâs brand value?â âNo.â He just stared at everything with dry eyes. He couldnât get angry anymore, he wasnât even surprised anymore. It was as if he were watching from the outside, as if all this was happening to someone else. That same afternoon, he received a message from Daniela, just three words: âI warned you.â And then he understood that there was no way to continue in that world, not like this, not with her lurking, not with that hell on top of him. He understood that everything he had built could
disappear, but what he was building with Valeria and the children, that was worth it, that was what made sense. That night, while the children slept and Valeria washed the dishes in her apartment, he sat next to her, not in his usual suit, not with his cell phone glued to his hand. He sat with a different expression, more tired, more human. âI lost everything,â he said bluntly. Valeria put the dishcloth down in the sink and looked at him without saying anything. Daniela had made good on her threat. âThey took me off projects, canceled contracts, Iâm out of the council, they erased me.â âAnd now what are you going to do?â âI donât
know, but I want to do it with you.â She didnât say anything, she just stared at him. âI donât want to live dividing myself between two lives anymore. I donât want to anymore.â I donât want to hide anymore, I donât want to be silent. Valeria sighed, approached, and sat beside him. I canât promise you that everything will be alright, nor can I, but I can promise you that I wonât leave, even if weâre starting from scratch, even if I have to start from the bottom. You from the bottom, Mr. Suit Caro. JuliĂĄn laughed for the first time in days. I donât have any suits left, I put them all away. And what are you going to do? Iâm going to sell my share in
The company will get us through a while with that. Weâll see later. Iâm tired of living to please others. Valeria looked at him, still afraid, but also with something new in her eyes: respect. âWould you really do that?â âI already am.â Valeria lowered her gaze, and right there in that small kitchen, without cheesy promises or soap opera hugs, she took his hand. âSo stay, but this time for real.â The next day, JuliĂĄn went to his old office just to sign his departure papers. He didnât make a scene, didnât give a speech,
didnât ask for applause. He just went in, signed, gathered a couple of personal things: a photo of his dad, an old mug with his name on it, and a notebook, and walked out. Daniela didnât appear, didnât face him, but he knew she was watching everything from Minuno, her office. She surely felt like a winner, and maybe she was. In that world, in that game, she did win, but JuliĂĄn didnât want to play anymore. He got in his car, put on music for the first time in weeks, and for the first time in a long time, he didnât feel like his heart was in pieces. He felt fear, yes, but also relief
because now he was free to live the life he truly wanted. Because at that moment, as he crossed the ring road with the sun setting, he knew his true story was just beginning. The apartment was small, with light-colored walls and used furniture, but it had something JuliĂĄn hadnât felt in years: peace. Not the boring peace, nor the kind you fake so others wonât ask questions; it was something else entirely. It was the noise of three children running down the hall in crooked socks, the smell of breakfast burning while everyone complained, and the
beautiful chaos of a real family. Since leaving his company and selling his shares, JuliĂĄn had changed completely. The first thing he did was buy an old car, one of those that still had a stereo with buttons and manual windows. The second was to stop watching financial news and checking his work email. He turned off everything from his old life like someone closing a door without looking back. Now he got up every day at 6 a.m., not for a meeting or an international flight, but because the children had to be ready for school. One took
forever to get dressed, another hid his shoes, and the youngest always lost his lunchbox. Everything was⊠It was a bit of a mess, but he loved it. At first, Valeria looked at him with a raised eyebrow, as if wondering if it was all for real or if he was going to give up at any moment. But the days went by, and JuliĂĄn was still there, making the coffee, sweeping the living room, carrying backpacks, helping with homeworkâsometimes badly, sometimes clumsily, but always with enthusiasm, and thatâs what he told her most. One day, while they were taking the clothes off the line, Valeria looked at himâŠ
Out of the corner of her eye, âDonât you miss your old life?â âWhich one? The one with expensive dinners and tight ties?â âYes, not that one. Honestly, Iâve never slept so peacefully, even though one of them woke up at 3 in the morning because he dreamed about monsters, and the other accidentally kicked me in the back.â Valeria chuckled softly. It was a laugh she hadnât let out in a long time, one of those unplanned laughs that have no filter. JuliĂĄn stared at her for a second longer than he should have. She noticed, but didnât look away; she just lowered her gaze with a shy smile. âSo, what are you going to do now?â
he asked while folding a t-shirt. âIâm not sure. I have some money saved, but I donât want to go back to the same old thing. I was thinking of starting something small, my own business, maybe a coffee shop, something quiet.â âYou in a coffee shop?â âYes, I even know how to make French press coffee. Mateo taught me.â Valeria looked at him in surprise. Mateo, the assistant in the suit and glasses, is now the owner of a sandwich food truck. âHe told me heâs doing well.â âAnd you would give up millions for that?â âI already gave them up that day for the first time.â The five of them ate together at the dining room table without haste or
interruptions. Julian sat in the middle of the three children, cutting their chicken, serving water, and cleaning the sauce off the tablecloth without complaining. He looked tired but happy, as if he were finally in his rightful place. Later, while they played with colored blocks, Mateo, the youngest, climbed onto his lap and asked him point-blank, âDad, can you come to the open class tomorrow?â Julian looked at him as if he had just received the greatest prize in the world. Open class, yes, itâs a day where the dads can come and watch us dance and recite poems. There will be cookies,
of course Iâll be there. Valeria heard from the kitchen. She didnât say anything, but her chest tightened, not from sadness, but from emotion. It was the first time one of the children had called him Dad so naturally, without hesitation, without thinking if it was right or wrong. That night, Julian washed the dishes, swept the living room, and then stayed watching television with Valeria. Nothing special, just a game show with long commercials, but they felt comfortable, unhurried, without awkward silences. âDo you know what the hardest part is?â Julian said, half asleep.
âNot shouting to the world that this is the life I always wanted.â She looked at him without answering, turned off the TV, and stayed there beside him in silence. But it wasnât that silence full of distance anymore; it was one that said, âIâm here too.â Things finally felt stable; the rhythm at home was no longer chaotic, it was a routine, the kind thatâs tiring, yes, but also brings peace. The children no longer asked strange questions, they no longer got confused. Valeria and JuliĂĄn had learned to move together, to trust each other, to give each other space. They had even gone to the kindergarten open class, and JuliĂĄn
She ended up crying while Mateo recited a poorly memorized poem that ended in laughter. Everything was going well until Daniela returned. The first sign was a letter; it arrived in a white envelope with no return address. Valeria found it in the mailbox one afternoon while returning from the stationery store with the children. She opened it without thinking much; it was an official document, a court order. It was signed, sealed, a summons. The case of fraud involving altered documents, archived four years earlier, had been reopened, and she, Valeria Ortega, had to appear as the accused. She felt like the street had been erased from her mind,
her hands went numb. She called JuliĂĄn from her cell phone with the children shouting around her. He arrived in less than 20 minutes, and upon reading the paper, he understood everything. They didnât need evidence, they didnât need to investigate. This scheme had a name: Daniela. âHas this happened to you before?â JuliĂĄn asked, his voice tense. âYes,â Valeria replied, looking at the ground, âyears ago, when I worked in a small paperwork office, the boss asked me to sign some papers. I trusted him, I didnât ask questions. I was pregnant; I needed the job. Then he disappeared, and they
pointed the finger at me. I defended myself, I cried.â I explained everything, and in the end, there was no evidence. The case was closed, but it was still there, a stain on my memory, and now theyâve brought it up again. Yes, she was there. JuliĂĄn gripped the steering wheel tightly. He knew Daniela was capable of dirty tricks, but this was a whole different ballgame. She wasnât just angry; she was determined to destroy, and this time it wasnât him he was targeting, Valeria. A few days later, rumors started circulating at the childrenâs school. Some mothers began whispering things. One even said to her face, âThey say you were in trouble
with the law. How awful that this is affecting the children, isnât it?â Valeria didnât respond. She swallowed her anger and left with her head held high, but inside she was shattered. JuliĂĄn started to make moves. Although he no longer had the power he once did, he still had connections. He called a lawyer who had been his client. I read and explained everything. The lawyer reviewed the case and told him the truth: this smells like revenge. But the judge agreed to reopen it because someone presented new evidenceâsomeone powerful pushed him. If we donât stop this, itâs going to escalate, and if we get to the bottom of it, if we prove
that evidence is false⊠You can do it, but it will take time, and in the meantime, she remains guilty even though she isnât. Valeria listened to everything in silence; each word weighed on her as if stones were hanging from her chest. At night, when the children were asleep, they sat in the kitchen facing each other. The light was dim; they didnât speak loudly, as if they didnât want to wake either the children or the hope that still remained. âI donât want them to go through this,â Valeria said in a low voice. âNeither do I, but I donât intend to leave you alone. And ifâŠâ
If I lose, then we lose together. I donât want you to lose again. You already gave everything for me, and you didnât give everything for them, for me too, without knowing it. Youâre not alone in this, Valeria. She looked at him with fear, real fear, not of the case, not of the trial, but of the people, of life, of those who donât forgive a woman who made the mistake of trusting. JuliĂĄn stood up, went to the childrenâs room and watched them sleep. Then he came back to her and took her hand. If she wants to play dirty, letâs play too, but with the truth. This time Iâm not going to
hide, Iâm going to face the music. She squeezed his hand and for the first time since receiving that letter, she didnât feel like she was sinking alone. The courthouse smelled of nerves, cheap coffee, old files, people coming and going with tired faces. There were no cameras or flashes, but for Valeria, that place was harder than any news report. It was the place where they were going to point the finger at her again, where she would have to explain herself, defend herself again, and this time with the eyes of the past, the present, and all of Mexico upon her. JuliĂĄn had been with her since Early that morning, he squeezed her hand on the
wooden bench where they waited for their turn to enter. Beside her, the lawyer they had hired reviewed papers, talked on the phone, and read the file over and over as if something were about to magically change. Valeria said nothing, only stared at the floor, not out of fear of the courtroom, but because of what it meant. Now, not only were her name, her reputation, and her freedom at stake, but also the stability of her children, that peace they had barely begun to build. âList,â JuliĂĄn said quietly. She nodded. She
wasnât ready, but she had to say yes. They entered. The courtroom was simple: a judge in the center, a secretary to one side, two chairs in front, the rest pews like in a church. Everything felt cold and harsh. When they called her full name, Valeria stood up and walked to the front. The judge asked her to state her occupation. She did so with a firm voice, though inside she felt her legs buckling. âHave you ever falsified legal documents?â the prosecutor asked directly, without beating around the bush. âYou didnât sign papers without
reading them? I trusted my boss. He told me it was routine. And if that paper had false information, didnât you know?â The prosecutor, believing she was responsible, didnât know it was false. He smiled as if he already had his answer. Ignorance doesnât make you innocent, Miss Ortega. JuliĂĄn gritted his teeth. He wanted to stand up, to shout, but he couldnât; it wasnât his place for now. The defense attorney presented evidence, saying the case had already been closed once for lack of evidence, that reopening it with almost identical documents made no sense, but the judge allowed it to continue. There was a new
A statement from someone claiming that Valeria had consciously participated, an anonymous witness, according to what they said, raised the tension. Valeria looked at JuliĂĄn; he responded with a look that said, âTrust me.â Outside on the street, the story had already spread. A gossip account published the news that morning: former teacher accused of fraud, mother of Miron, the children of former businessman JuliĂĄn Castañeda. The old photos recirculated: her face, the childrenâs, JuliĂĄnâs, all mixed together in publications full of judgment, hatred, and
very few real facts. Mateo, now a friend and almost brother of JuliĂĄn, was the one who brought the surprise that day. He arrived halfway through the trial with a folder under his arm and a look that said, âI have something.â He handed it to the lawyer, who read it with wide eyes. He asked the judge to speak: âYour Honor, I have a sworn statement from Ernesto Palacios, the defendantâs former boss, who signed this document confessing that he forced Valeria Ortega to sign altered documents to absolve herself of responsibility. He also acknowledges that he fled the country with the money collected and
that I quoteâŠâ She literally had no knowledge of anything I did. The prosecutor tried to object, but the judge stopped him. âWhere is this Mr. Palacios in Canada?â he asked. âBut he sent the official notarized document. He also sent a video call, ready to testify live.â The judge thought for a few seconds and accepted. On the screen appeared a man of about 50 with a beard and a tired face, Ernesto Palacios. With a firm voice but without showing guilt, he said, âI set everything up. I was going to lose my business. I forged documents to cover up mistakes. Valeria had no idea; she just
signed what I told her to.â The judge called for a recess. In the hallway, Valeria burst into tears, not like a victim, but like someone who has lifted a weight from their shoulders. JuliĂĄn hugged her without saying anything. Finally, after all, someone was telling the truth for her, even if it was late, even if no one remembered the harm they had done to her. An hour later, they went back in. The judge asked for silence and spoke bluntly: âDue to a lack of new valid evidence and with the confession received, the case is definitively closed. Valeria Ortega is free of
all charges.â There was no applause or There were no hugs, just a long, heavy silence, but for them, that silence was the most beautiful thing they had heard in a long time. The days after the trial felt strange, not bad, not good, just strange, like when it rains a lot and suddenly the sun comes out, but everything is still wet. People werenât talking about the scandal as much anymore; social media had become distracted by other gossip, and Valeriaâs name began to slowly disappear from searches. What seemed impossible happened: the storm calmed, and she smiled again, even though
She still struggled on the street; she walked with a steady gaze, but every time someone stared at her, her stomach trembled, not because she was afraid of being accused again, but because of everything she had had to carry alone for so longâyears of enduring stares, accusations, rejection, all for a mistake that wasnât hers. JuliĂĄn, for his part, took it upon himself to put everything back in order at home: the routine with the children, the chores, the walks in the park. Although he also felt that something was about to happen, he didnât know what, but he felt it, like that feeling you get
when everything is too quiet. And it was. One Tuesday afternoon, when they returned from dropping the children off at school, they found an envelope under the apartment door. It had no return address; it only said, âFor JuliĂĄn. Itâs urgent.â Valeria looked at it suspiciously. âLetâs open it.â âYes,â said JuliĂĄn, although he already had a strange feeling in his chest. He opened it. Inside was a handwritten letter and a photo. The letter said, âYou thought the past wouldnât catch up with you, but sometimes it comes back in ways you donât expect.
This child is also yours.â The photo showed a child of about Six years sitting on a park bench, same hair, same face, same mole on the eyebrow that JuliĂĄn had seen on his own children. It was like looking at another version of himself in the mirror. JuliĂĄn was speechless. He didnât understand. He couldnât speak. âWhat is this?â Valeria asked, holding the letter. âIs this a joke?â âI donât know,â he replied, his voice breaking. âDo you recognize someone? Iâve never seen him, I swear.â She looked at him, trying to read his face. JuliĂĄn could only stare at the photo. His legs were
trembling. He sat down. âAnd what does this mean? Could it be true?â he said, barely breathing. âBack then, before I left, I dated someone for a short time. It was a disaster. It wasnât even serious. Once, maybe twice. I left shortly after. I never heard from her again.â Valeria pressed her lips together. âAnd if itâs true, then I have four children, not three.â Silence enveloped them. Valeria paced the living room like a caged lioness. JuliĂĄn remained seated, motionless, the open letter on his lap. âWho could send this like this without saying anything else? Why now? I donât
know, but Daniela didnât do this. This is something else. That nightâŠâ JuliĂĄn didnât sleep. He searched through old papers, photos, and emails for any clue. He was left with one name: that of a woman he had briefly dated before leaving for Monterrey. Her name was Sara; she was discreet and serious. He never had contact with her again, but now he couldnât get that face out of his head, nor the boyâs. The next day, he went to talk to Mateo and showed him the letter. Mateo didnât ask anything; he just said, âWeâre going to find her, and if itâs true, then you have another story.â
Valeria supported him, she didnât scold him, she didnât judge him, she just asked him that if he was going to get involved in this, he should do it right, that he shouldnât leave any loose ends, that he shouldnât repeat the mistakes of the past. JuliĂĄn looked at the boyâs photo again. He had big eyes with a gaze that said much more than any letter could explain, and there, with that photo in his hand, he understood that the past never closes, only that thereâs always something more, and this time he was ready to face whatever came. Only three days had passed since the letter arrived, but to JuliĂĄn it felt like weeks. He wasnât eating well, he wasnât
sleeping, he couldnât concentrate. He carried the boyâs photo in his pocket all the time, as if carrying it would help him understand something or at least keep him calm. He didnât know if he was about to start a new chapter or lose what little he had just built. Mateo, as always, was the one who helped him. He found the name, the address, and even a contact number. The woman lived in QuerĂ©taro. Sara Delgado had worked at a logistics company where JuliĂĄn had given consulting services years before. None other than Valeria
told him to go, no drama. No complaints, just one thing: do it right. And he did. He left in his old car, his stomach churning and his head full of thoughts. All the way he thought about the children, about Valeria, about the possibility of having another child, one he didnât know, one he never asked to be born. So it came to him on a Friday afternoon. He hesitated to knock. It was a simple building, one of those where the echo bounces and everyone knows who comes up. When he knocked, a woman opened the door without surprise, as if she knew it would happen someday. âI knew youâd come,â she said, dryly and
directly. âIs the envelope yours?â âYes.â âWhy now?â Sara let him in without answering. The apartment was small and clean, with toys scattered across the linen floor. At the back, a half-open door revealed a boy watching cartoons. It was him, the one in the photo. His name is IvĂĄn, heâs six years old, born four months after you left. I never told you because you left too, without saying a word. I didnât know you were pregnant; I wasnât when you left. I found out later, and I didnât look for you because it was pointless. You were already in another world. And why now? Sara looked him straight in the eye.
Why is he asking? Because he looks so much like you that I couldnât play dumb anymore. Because even though youâre not here, your face is there every day, and because I want you to know that you have a son. JuliĂĄn was speechless. His hands trembled, his heart ached. âCan I talk to him?â Sara hesitated, then nodded. She called him in a soft tone. Ivan came out of the room with a doll in his hand. He looked at Julian as if he recognized him without knowing where from. âHello,â said the boy. âHello, champ,â replied Julian, swallowing hard. âMy name is Julian. Youâre the one who sent me theâŠâ
âNot Legos, but if you want I can do it.â IvĂĄn smiled, then fell silent, looking at him with those same eyes he already knew. He was just like the others, but also different; he had something more reserved, more tranquil. JuliĂĄn crouched down to be at his level. âDo you like cartoons?â âYes.â âAnd dinosaurs?â âMe too.â IvĂĄn didnât ask who he was, not at that moment. He just approached and gave him the doll he was holding. âItâs called TomĂĄs. You can play with it if you want.â JuliĂĄn took it carefully; his fingers trembled. After a while, Sara took him to take a nap.
JuliĂĄn stayed on the couch in silence. Sara returned and sat down in front of him. âI donât want your money, I donât want problems, I just want you to meet him if you want. If not, Iâll manage. I want to meet him.â âAre you sure?â âYes, I just need time.â âNot for him, to tell the others.â He returned home that night, not knowing how to start the conversation. Valeria received him without asking questions, waiting for him to speak. âItâs true,â he said. âHeâs my son after all, and his mother isnât going to ask me for anything. She doesnât want to fight; she just wants me to meet him.â His name is IvĂĄn. Valeria nodded, taking a moment to
answer. âYouâre going to be in his life?â âYes.â âThen weâll be in his too.â âAre you sure?â âNo, but I donât want to be the one who closes the door anymore.â The children didnât know immediately; it was little by little. First, they showed them the photo, then they told them the story as if it were part of a movie, like something that happens, that sometimes adults do things wrong but can also try to do them right. A month later, IvĂĄn met his brothers. They stared at him as if they were seeing themselves for the first time and didnât say anything strange. There was no drama, no jealousy,
just a simple question from Emiliano: âDo you want to play?â IvĂĄn smiled. âYes.â And thatâs how the past, with all its complications and pain, blended with the present, without magic fixes, without movie-like happy endings, but with truth and a desire to do things right. The rest they were writing together, day by day.
