A Billionaire Saw His Ex-Girlfriend—Whom He Had Left Six Years Ago—While She Was Waiting for an Uber With Three Children Who Looked Just Like Him. He Didn’t Know…
He’d just left a meeting in Polanco, one of those endless meetings where everyone feels important and talks like they’re saving the world. He just wanted to get out of there. He got into his armored SUV, gave Herchaer the usual instructions, and took out his cell phone to check his messages as they drove down a semi-traffic jammed street. He looked out the window without much interest. That’s when he saw her.
There she was, standing on the sidewalk, right in front of a pharmacy, her face tired and a touch of despair. Her hair was hastily tied back, she was wearing simple clothes, and she was clutching a half-torn grocery bag. Beside her, three children. All three with the same eyes, the same mouth, the same expression. They looked around as if waiting for something to happen. And those eyes were hers. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be. She leaned forward to get a better look, but just at that moment, another car cut in and the image disappeared.
“Stop!” Julian shouted without thinking.
The driver slammed on the brakes and looked at him worriedly. Julián opened the door without waiting for a response, stepped down to the street, and searched desperately. The sidewalk was crowded as always, but she was gone. He walked quickly among the pedestrians, looking 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 cross the street holding the three children’s hands and get into a gray car that was clearly an Uber. He froze. He felt a knot in his stomach. He didn’t know whether to run, scream her name, or just let her go. The car started and disappeared into the afternoon traffic. Julián didn’t move. He stood there, trembling. He returned to his truck as if on automatic. He didn’t say anything. The driver looked at him in the mirror, but Julián didn’t say a word. He was completely absent. All he could think about were those three children with his same face. He put his hand to his forehead, closed his eyes, and let out a sigh that came from deep within.
He hadn’t seen Valeria in six years, since that early morning when he decided to leave without saying goodbye. He didn’t leave her a single message. Nothing. It wasn’t right, 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 to fix things later. But that time never came.
The car continued on its way to his apartment in Santa Fe. Upon arriving, Julián furiously took off his jacket and threw it on the couch. He poured himself a drink, even though it wasn’t even five in the afternoon yet. He paced back and forth, remembering everything he’d experienced with Valeria: her laughter, the way she looked at him when he talked about his dreams, how she hugged him when he was late and just wanted to sleep. And then he thought about the children. How was it possible that they looked so much like him?
He grabbed his phone and searched social media. Nothing. Not a photo, not a trace. Valeria had disappeared from the digital world as if she’d never existed. That seemed strange to him because, even though he’d tried to forget her, he never really could. It was the kind of love you keep in a little box you don’t want to open again because you know it’s going to hurt.
He sat down at his computer, opened an encrypted folder where he kept personal files, and searched for old photos. There they were. Valeria at the beach, in her apartment, Valeria with her dog, Valeria in her pajamas laughing with her mouth full of popcorn. He looked at them one by one until he found one in which she was hugging him from behind, her face close to his neck, a photo she had taken herself with her cell phone. He looked at it for a long time and then pressed his lips together. He knew what he had to do.
He called his assistant:
—Mateo, I need you to find someone. Her name is Valeria Ortega. I don’t have an address, all I know is that she lives in Mexico City and has three children… And something else…
-Yes sir?
—Those children could be mine.
There was an awkward silence on the other end of the line.
—Understood, sir.
Mateo hung up and stared out the window at the city. Thousands of lights, thousands of people, but in that moment only one mattered. He didn’t know if she was angry, if she hated him, or if she’d simply gotten over him. But those kids… He couldn’t leave it like that. He couldn’t dwell on the doubt, because if they were what he thought they were, then his life was about to change completely.
The next morning, Julián woke up with only one thing on his mind: finding her. And this time he wasn’t going to leave without answers. He didn’t sleep well that night. He tossed and turned, stared at the ceiling, got up, walked around the apartment, lay back down on the sheets, closed his eyes, and saw that scene again: Valeria standing on the street with her three children, so similar to him it hurt. It was as if his past had suddenly returned without warning and slapped him in the face.
The next day, before eight in the morning, he was already in his office. His team greeted him respectfully, with their usual fake smiles. He barely replied. He went straight into his office, closed the door, and stared out the window. The entire city continued with its routine: cars, people, noise. But inside, everything was chaos. He sat down at his desk, took out his cell phone, and checked social media again. He searched for her name, her face, any trace of Valeria. Nothing. Not on Facebook. Not on Instagram. It was as if the earth had swallowed her up. That made him angrier. How could someone disappear so easily? How was it possible that he, with all his resources, knew nothing?
Mateo arrived with a coffee and some papers. Julián barely looked at him.
—Is there anything?
—Not yet, boss. We’re searching through birth certificates and school records, but if he changed his address and last name, it’ll take a while.
Julián nodded. He didn’t feel like talking. When Mateo left, he was alone again. He rested his elbows on the desk, held his head in both hands, and closed his eyes. Memories began to flood back as if someone were playing a movie in his mind. He saw himself six years earlier, younger, less tired, with that ambition almost oozing out of his pores. At that time, he and Valeria lived together in a small apartment in Narvarte. They didn’t have any luxuries, but they had everything. He worked from home putting together presentations, looking for investors, trying to get his first company off the ground. She was a preschool teacher…
He arrived home exhausted, but always with a smile. They laughed at silly things, ordered pizza at night, sometimes they didn’t have gas and took cold showers, but they were together, and that, at that moment, was enough. But then the opportunity came: a foreign fund wanted to invest in their project, but he had to move to Monterrey for a year. That’s when everything changed. He proposed to go with her, but she said she couldn’t leave her job, her students, everything she had. They argued many times, each time getting more heated, until one morning, without saying anything, he grabbed his backpack, his laptop, some papers, and left. He left her a silly note that said: “Sorry, I can’t stay.” That’s how cowardly he was. He never heard from her again.
He thought about writing to her many times, but he always put it off. Then his business exploded, the Tonis arrived, the trips, the millions, the interviews, the luxuries… but sometimes, when he was alone, he remembered Valeria and it hurt. Now all of that came back as if time hadn’t passed, as if life were telling him: “You haven’t finished this chapter yet.”
Julián stood up from his chair and walked over to the wall where he had a display case filled with mementos, awards, photos with politicians, and recognitions from business leaders. But at the back was a small box he hadn’t touched in years. He took it down, placed it on the table, and opened it. Inside was a red string bracelet 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 soul frozen. He didn’t remember putting it away. Maybe she left it in the apartment before leaving. Maybe at the time she didn’t want to understand. But now, looking at that test and remembering the children, everything fell into place: she had gotten pregnant, and he had left.
He sat back down, stared at the ceiling, felt anger, sadness, guilt. All mixed together. He didn’t know what hurt more: having left her alone at that moment, or having missed six years of those children’s lives. His cell phone vibrated. It was a message from Mateo:
—We found something. I’ll send you the address in 5 minutes.
Julián stared at the screen and took a deep breath. He knew that message was going to take him straight to the place where everything changed. What he didn’t know was if he was ready to face it.
An hour later, Julián arrived at the address Mateo had sent him. He didn’t want a driver; he was driving alone, with the music off and his hands sweaty on the steering wheel. The area wasn’t dangerous, but it was nothing like the places he frequented now. There were potholed streets, taco stands, people sitting outside houses, and children playing soccer barefoot. When he parked the truck, he stared for a few seconds at the old building, its paint peeling, but it didn’t look abandoned. He checked the number twice. Yes, that was it.
He looked up at the third floor. He didn’t know which apartment she lived in, but something in his chest told him she was there. At that moment, he didn’t dare go up. He thought about knocking, but didn’t even know what to say. “Hello? I’m the jerk who got you pregnant six years ago.” He laughed halfheartedly, ran his 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 o’clock sharp, the door to the building opened. Valeria came out with the three children. They were combed, had backpacks, and walked like little soldiers. She carried a large bag over her shoulder and a cell phone in her hand. They walked toward the corner, where the minibuses were passing. Julián got out of the car without thinking. His legs moved on their own. He crossed the street and, when he was less than three meters away, he called his name:
—Valeria.
She turned around immediately. She froze. The children also stopped, looking at him curiously. The silence lasted for a few seconds that seemed like hours. She didn’t say anything. She just stared at him, as if she couldn’t believe he was there.
“Can we talk?” Julian said in a low but firm voice.
Valeria lowered her gaze, didn’t greet him, didn’t ask anything. She simply told the children to go wait at the corner store. They obeyed without a word. Then she looked him straight in the eyes.
—What are you doing here?
Julian swallowed. He didn’t know where to start.
—I saw you a few days ago… you were waiting for an Uber with them…
She didn’t respond, she just kept looking at him, without fear but coldly.
“Don’t tell me it was a coincidence that you found me,” he finally said in a dry tone, “because I don’t believe you one bit.”
“That day was a coincidence,” he answered quickly, “but not today. I came because I need to know… to know if they’re mine.”
Valeria crossed her arms and took a deep breath as if holding it in.
—And if they are? What are you going to do? Take them out of their lives and put them in yours, full of luxuries, of things they don’t even understand?
—I don’t want that… I just want to meet them. I didn’t know about them, Valeria. I didn’t know anything.
She looked at him with shining eyes, but she didn’t shed a tear.
—You didn’t know why you didn’t care about staying. Because you left as if I didn’t exist. You didn’t even ask if I was okay. You left me with a note, Julián.
He looked down. He had no way to defend himself.
“You’re right,” he said, barely audible.
—So what now? Are you here to play the repentant dad? The man who has everything and wants to fill the void with something he abandoned?
—I’m not here to do anything to myself. I’m here to take on whatever I have to take on. If they’re mine, I want to be there. Not to take them away from you, not to change their lives, just… to be there.
Valeria looked at him with a mixture of anger and sadness. Then she looked at the children, who were already calling her from the small store. She looked at her watch.
—I have to go. I start work at 5. I don’t have time for this.
“Can I see you another day?” he asked, almost pleading.
—I don’t know. I don’t know if I want that. I don’t know if I want to bring you back into our lives. It was hard for us to move forward.
—Just once. A coffee. Somewhere neutral. Your choice.
She hesitated. She thought for a few seconds. Then she took out her phone, opened the notes app, and typed something. She showed him the screen:
“Tomorrow at 6 at that cafe. If you’re even a minute late, I’m leaving.”
Julian nodded. She turned away without another word. She went to her children, took them by the hand, and led them 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 chance. But there was.
Julián couldn’t concentrate on anything for the rest of the day. He canceled a meeting with investors, ignored his fiancée’s messages, and locked himself in his apartment. He paced like a caged lion, cell phone in hand, checking the cafe’s address every five minutes, as if it were about to disappear. He had a date with Valeria the next day, but his mind couldn’t wait any longer. Something inside him wouldn’t let him rest. He had to know more.
He poured himself a whiskey without ice, took a long drink, and sat down at his computer. He opened his email, looked for Mateo’s direct contact, and sent him a short message:
“I need to know more about Valeria. Everything you can find out. The children’s schools, jobs… anything. Urgent.”
Not even five minutes had passed when Mateo called him:
—Are you sure, boss? This could be tricky.
—Do it. I want to know if they’re mine. I’m not going to wait for her to tell me with words.
Mateo hesitated, but agreed. The call ended. Julián stared at the screen. His fingers were shaking. He knew it wasn’t right, that he was crossing a line, but he couldn’t help it. He had that feeling in his stomach, that mix of anxiety and fear. Something inside him screamed that those children were his.
And I didn’t need proof. I already knew.
Watching them was like seeing himself in a mirror split into three. He tried to sleep for a while, but it was no use. He went back to social media with no results, then Googled: “How do you know if a child is yours without official proof?” The answers were absurd. He closed everything and lay down on the couch with his eyes open, staring at the ceiling. The clock read 2 a.m.
The next day, he woke up with a light fog in his head. Julián 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 café, asked for a table in the corner, away from the windows, and sat with his leg constantly moving. He checked his watch every two minutes. People came and went, but Valeria didn’t arrive. When it was ten minutes to six, he thought she wouldn’t come; his chest tightened. But exactly at six o’clock, the door opened, and there she was. She was alone, wearing a simple blouse and her hair tied back in a ponytail. She wasn’t wearing any makeup or accessories. She was just her, the way he always remembered her.
Julian stood up without saying anything. Valeria approached, sat down opposite him, and looked directly at him.
—You have 15 minutes.
He nodded, sat back down, and took a deep breath.
—Thanks for coming.
“I didn’t do it for you,” he said immediately. “I did it to set the record straight.”
Julian looked down for a second and then looked back at her.
—I want to know if the children are mine. I’m not here out of remorse or guilt. I’m here because I need to know the truth.
—What if I say yes? What are you going to do? Contribute money? Be a part of their lives even though I don’t want you around?
She looked at him with a serious face.
—You can’t show up six years late and expect everything to fall into place. You don’t know what it’s been like. Raising them alone, working two jobs, making money work miracles… and you, you didn’t even ask.
—I know. I have no excuse.
—So why now?
—Because I saw them. Because I saw myself in them. Because I can’t pretend nothing happened.
Valeria remained silent. It was clear she was about to say something harsh, but she didn’t. Instead, she took a folded piece of paper out of her purse.
“This is the most I’m going to give you for now,” he said, leaving it on the table.
Julián took it. It was a copy of one of the children’s birth certificates. He read the name: Emiliano Ortega . In the father’s space: blank.
—Why didn’t you put me?
—Because you weren’t there. Because I didn’t even know if you wanted to be a part of this. And because I wasn’t going to beg anyone to be my dad.
Julian squeezed the paper in his hands, then put it in his jacket pocket.
—And the other two?
—Same. They don’t have a registered father.
He nodded, swallowing hard. He was silent for a few seconds.
—Can I see them? Talk to them?
—No. They’re not ready yet. They don’t understand who you are, and I don’t want you coming to them with promises you won’t keep.
—I’m not going to let you down.
—That’s what you said last time.
The sentence hit home. Julián didn’t respond. Valeria looked at him sternly, but deep down, her eyes were also tired, as if she were exhausted from carrying everything alone.
“Can I help you?” he asked, almost in a low voice. “Anything. School, food, clothes. I’m not asking for anything, just let me do it.”
—I don’t want your money, Julian.
—It’s not about money. It’s about them.
She looked at him silently. Then she checked the time.
—Your time is up.
She stood up, grabbed her bag, and left. She didn’t turn around, didn’t say goodbye. Julián stayed there, alone, with his coffee cold and his head full of questions.
Doubt was eating him up inside. And even if she didn’t confirm it completely, he already knew it. He felt it in his bones. Those children were his. And he wasn’t going to stop until he found out.
Julián had been mulling over the same idea for two days. Valeria hadn’t told him everything. He was crystal clear about it. There were many things that didn’t add up: the birth certificates without a father, her complete disappearance from social media, the way she looked at him with such resentment. There was a story he didn’t know, and he couldn’t wait for her to tell it to him of her own free will.
So he decided to find someone who knew. He remembered Jimena, a mutual friend they’d had when he and Valeria were together. She was one of those nice, cool, gossipy, and well-intentioned girls who knew everything about everyone. And if anyone might have a clue about what happened to Valeria after he left, it was her.
He sent her a direct message:
“I need to see you. It’s about Valeria.”
Jimena responded quickly:
“Valeria Ortega? Are you looking for Valeria after a thousand years? This is going to get good.”
They agreed to meet at a restaurant in Condesa. She arrived late, as always, with her outrageous energy and a dress that commanded attention from the next block. She sat across from Julián, smiled at him as if time hadn’t passed, and leisurely took the menu.
—Now you’re going to tell me why you left like a coward years ago and now you’re coming back with a face like you missed something.
Julian was in no mood for jokes.
—Jimena, I need to know something. What happened to Valeria after I left?
She looked at him, put down her menu, and crossed her arms.
—Why are you asking that now?
—Because I saw her. She’s here in the city. She has three children.
Jimena’s eyes widened.
-Three?
—Three. And they’re mine. I know it, even if she doesn’t tell me, I know it.
Jimena was silent for a few seconds, then sighed.
—I knew one day this was going to happen.
—Did you know?
—Look, I don’t 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, messages… no one knew anything. I thought she’d left the country or something. But one day, about a year later, I ran into her in a small store. She was holding a double stroller and a baby. I almost fainted. I asked her what was going on, what had happened, why she never said anything, and she just said: “There was nothing to say.”
Julian clenched his jaw. He felt his heart race.
—Didn’t he tell you they were mine?
—No, but I didn’t have to say it. I mean, hello! They were like photocopies of you. And honestly, the way she mentioned you was weird… like with pain, but also with the desire to not talk about it anymore. She told me she was fine, that she was managing, that she had help from an aunt and that she didn’t need anyone. Not you, not me, not anyone.
Julian remained silent. His face burned. He didn’t know if it was from shame or rage.
—Where did you live back then?
—I don’t know. She didn’t want to tell me. I only knew she worked at a daycare center in Iztapalapa, but she didn’t last long there. Later I learned she was fired because a jealous father found out she was a single mother with triplets and started a scandal. You see why I tell you it wasn’t easy for her? No one helped her. No one. She didn’t want help. She shut herself away in her own world. She didn’t want anyone to see her as bad. She was always like that: stubborn. Strong, but stubborn.
Julian leaned back in his chair. His shoulders, his head, his soul.
—Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you seek me out?
Jimena looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
—Are you asking that after leaving her without a single word?
—Look, I love you… but what you did…
“Valeria didn’t seek you out because she didn’t want to beg, because she knew that if you weren’t there to stay, you weren’t worth having around. You chose to leave; she chose to remain silent.”
It became awkward. Julián didn’t know how to respond. He’d never heard all of this so directly. He’d always carried the guilt, yes, but hearing how things really happened was different. It hurt. A lot.
Jimena looked at him more calmly.
“Are you going to take a DNA test?”
—Yes… soon. But I don’t think I need it anymore.
—Well, if you’re going to get involved in that story again, you better do it for real. Because if you leave again, there’s no coming back this time.
Julian nodded. He didn’t promise anything, he didn’t say anything grandly, he just knew that from that moment on there was no turning back.
That same afternoon, Julián couldn’t hold it in any longer. He didn’t want any more twists and turns, no hints, no loose ends. He’d already spoken to Jimena, seen the birth certificate, and felt that pang in his chest from the first moment he saw the children. He was tired of carrying the doubt.
So he went to find Valeria. He waited outside the building where she lived. He didn’t call her first, he didn’t let her know. He just stood there, leaning against his truck, looking unfriendly. He was determined to talk, and he wouldn’t leave without answers. He didn’t care if she got angry, yelled at him, or told him to go to hell. All he wanted was to hear the truth, in all its letters.
At 5:30, he saw her coming out with the three children. They were dressed the same as last time, with backpacks, their hair styled, and talking to each other. She walked briskly, with that “I’m running late” expression that all mothers who do a thousand things a day have. When she saw him, she stopped dead in her tracks.
“What are you doing here?” he said without moving.
“We need to talk,” he replied sharply.
—Again with this? We’ve talked about it. I gave you some space. I told you what I had to say. What more do you want?
—I want the whole truth, no beating around the bush.
The children watched the scene without understanding much. Julián bent down and spoke to them with a forced smile:
—May I speak to your mother for a moment? Just a little while.
They looked at him curiously. One of them, Emiliano, was the first to respond:
—Are you my mom’s friend?
Valeria immediately stepped forward.
—Go to the juice stand. I’ll catch up with you in a moment. Don’t stray far.
The children obeyed. As soon as they walked away, she turned around with her arms crossed and her gaze sharp.
—What part didn’t you understand that I don’t want this?
—I don’t care whether you want it or not anymore. I’m not here to fight. I’m here because it’s my place to know. It’s not just your story, Valeria. It’s mine too.
She laughed sarcastically.
—Do you remember that now? Years late? Because when you left, you didn’t say “it’s our story,” you said “I’m leaving.” Like that. You didn’t give me a choice.
—I know. They already told me. And I don’t deny it. But…
—But nothing.
—I’m here now. Not to redeem myself or to ask you for forgiveness a hundred times. I’m here because I can’t continue without knowing the truth. I want to know if they’re my children.
“Yes, they are,” he suddenly blurted out.
The phrase shattered him. It wasn’t shouted, it wasn’t said in anger. It was sharp, cold, harsh. Like when someone drops a glass on the floor and you don’t need to look to know it’s broken.
—All three. Yes, all three are yours.
Julian closed his eyes for a second. Everything inside him churned. A lump formed in his throat. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Valeria looked at him with red eyes, holding back whatever was inside her. She didn’t cry, she didn’t break down, but you could tell she was on the verge.
—And before you ask… yes. I knew. From day one. I knew I was pregnant a week after you left. I thought about calling you, looking for you… but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. I was scared, I was angry, I was embarrassed. All at once. So I slept with them alone.
—Why didn’t you tell me anything?
—Why? Because you wouldn’t believe me. Because you were in another world. Because I was just a memory to you, not a person. And because I wasn’t going to raise my children with someone who left without looking back.
Julian gritted his teeth.
—You have no idea how many times I thought about calling you again. But I was scared. I told myself you were going to be okay, that I was going to ruin everything.
—So what are you doing now? Are you coming to fix it with a hug and a check?
—I’m not here to ask you for a chance. Not with you. With them.
Valeria looked at him. This time she didn’t respond right away. She thought about it. She crossed her arms. She took a deep breath.
—They don’t know who you are. They don’t know you. They’ve never asked me for a father because they haven’t needed one. And now you appear out of nowhere with a face like, “I’m here to take responsibility.” It’s not that easy.
—I don’t want it to be easy. I just want you to let me get closer. Little by little. Respectfully. Calmly. I’m not asking you to forgive me. I’m asking you to let me get to know them.
—And what are you going to tell them? That you’re their magical dad who appeared after six years?
—I don’t know. I have no idea how to do this. I just know that if I leave again… I won’t be able to live with this.
Valeria remained silent. The silence between them was so loud that horns and a woman shouting the price of the tamales could be heard in the background. After a while, she spoke.
—I’ll think about it. But if one day you enter their lives… you can’t leave. You can’t do this halfway. Because if you’re going to hurt them, I’d rather you never see them.
“I’m not going to leave,” Julian said without hesitation.
Valeria nodded slowly. She didn’t say anything else. 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 hadn’t kicked him out. She had let him stay. A step. Although it was already a start.
Ever since Valeria told him the children were his, Julián couldn’t think about anything else. Work didn’t matter to him, nor did he care about unanswered emails…
Important calls piled up, went to voicemail, everything else disappeared. There were only three names in his head: Emiliano, Leo, and Mateo , his children, his children . But despite what Valeria had said, something inside him wouldn’t let him rest. He wanted to be sure, he needed to be. Not because he doubted her, but because he had a mad need to confirm that he wasn’t dreaming. It was as if his head was asking for physical proof, a piece of paper, something that would tell him: ” Yes, they’re yours. There’s no going back .”
And even though he knew it was wrong, that it wasn’t the way, he went with it.
One Thursday, Julián waited in his truck outside the school where the children were attending, parked a block away, hidden behind the tinted windows. He had found out which school Mateo had mentioned. He didn’t say anything to Valeria, didn’t ask 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 get out, he felt a pit in his stomach. They walked together, laughing, playing with their backpacks. They looked so much like him that it made him want to cry. A tall, bearded man, who worked as an assistant at the school, guided them to a small bench while they waited for someone to pick them up. Julián got out of the car with a small bag in his hand and walked toward them with a firm step:
“Hi,” he said, smiling. “Remember me? I’m Julian, your mom’s friend.”
Emiliano recognized him instantly:
—Yes, the one who spoke to her outside the building.
—Hey, can I ask you for something? It’s for a surprise, but I need something from you. Does anyone have any gum, a toothbrush, or anything you’ve used?
Leo took a chewed-up lollipop out of his pocket. Julian bent down, carefully picked it up, placed it in a plastic bag, and smiled.
—Thanks, champ. You’ll see what a nice surprise I have for them.
The children looked at him, not quite understanding, but said nothing. Just as he was leaving, Valeria appeared, her bag slung over her shoulder, in a hurry as always. She saw him from a distance and frowned. She walked straight up to him:
—What are you doing here?
—I was just passing by. I wanted to see how the kids turned out, that’s all.
—Did you touch them?
—Of course not.
She crossed her arms, not believing him at all.
—I don’t want you wandering around unannounced. Understood?
—Yes… I just wanted to see them.
Valeria took the three of them by the hand and led them away without saying goodbye. Julián stood for a moment watching them walk away, then returned to the car, opened the glove compartment, and placed the bag with the lollipop inside a special box.
The next day, he sent it to a private lab. He requested an urgent DNA test. He already had his own saliva samples stored. Everything was ready.
The result came back three days later: positive . Emiliano was his son. It said so in big letters, in an encrypted email he could barely read without his hands shaking. He sat down at the computer, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. He knew it, he felt it. But seeing it there, on an official document, with numbers, codes, and percentages, shook his world.
That day he bought toys, three identical ones, books, backpacks, new shoes, and clothes. He filled the trunk of his car with things he thought they might need. He sent a text to Valeria:
“I need to talk to you. It’s urgent.”
She didn’t respond to the first, or the second, or the third. She left it on read.
Two days later, he showed up unannounced at her job. Valeria was leaving a cafe where she washed dishes in the afternoons. When she saw him, she stopped in her tracks.
—What are you doing here? Are you following me?
—We need to talk. It’s important.
—Again? What did you do now?
—I took a test.
She looked at him, confused.
—What proof?
—DNA. I used a sample from Emiliano. Sorry. I needed it.
Valeria pushed him, furious.
—Are you sick or something? You can’t just be picking up my kids’ things without permission. Who do you think you are?
“I’m his father!” Julian shouted.
People turned to look. Some stopped. She lowered her voice, but her face burned.
—You have no right. You have no fucking right . You lied to me, you cheated on me, you pretended you just wanted to meet them. And you set this whole thing up behind your back.
—I was afraid you’d close the door on me again. I needed to know. I couldn’t bear the doubt any longer.
—And that gives you permission to invade us like this?
—No. But I did it anyway. And I don’t regret it. Because now I know it’s real. That I’m not crazy. That I have children. That I’m not imagining them.
Valeria froze. She didn’t know whether to scream, cry, or hit him. But in the end, she just looked at him in disappointment.
—So what now? Are you going to test the other two too? Are you going to buy their love with new toys and pretty pictures?
—I don’t want to buy anything. I really want to be there.
She looked at him for a long moment. Then she turned around, walked back into the cafe, and closed the door without looking back. Julian stood outside, his bags in the trunk, his hands empty, but inside he no longer had any doubts. Now he was certain . And he wasn’t going to stop.
She was sitting on the couch with the folder in her hand when he entered the apartment.
“Are you okay?” Julian asked, seeing her with such a serious expression.
“What do you think?” she replied, without moving a muscle.
He looked at her strangely, took off his jacket, and when he saw the folder in her hand he understood everything.
—Where did you get that?
—I’m not stupid, Julian.
He sat on the other side of the sofa in silence.
—Since when did you know?
—Recent? I didn’t know.
—And you were planning to tell me? Or marry you while keeping this from me?
—I don’t know… it all happened so fast…
—Did you sleep with her while you were with me?
—No… it wasn’t before… but shortly after… I didn’t know… sorry…
Daniela looked at him. She didn’t believe him at all, but she didn’t interrupt him either.
—And now what are you going to do?
—I don’t know… I’m processing it… I don’t want to abandon them… I don’t want to repeat the same mistakes… and where do I fit into all of this?
Julian didn’t know what to say; he remained silent, as if any word he said was just another bombshell to be dropped.
Daniela stood up, paced across the room, took a deep breath. Then she turned and looked at him with that expression of a woman who knows how to be in control.
—I’ll tell you something, Julián. I’ve been with you since you were a nobody. Since before you became that successful businessman. Since you were sleeping in your office because you couldn’t pay rent. I helped you build everything you have. I put my contacts, I put money in, I bet on you… and I did it without asking for anything in return.
—I don’t want you to thank me. I want loyalty.
He remained silent.
—If you decide to stay with that woman and those children, it’s over for you and me. And I’m not just leaving… I’m going after everything. I’m going to destroy everything you put on me: investors, contracts, your image, everything. I’m going to make you lose more than a relationship. You’re going to be left alone. Is that clear?
Julian looked at her in surprise; he’d never seen her so cold, so calculating. It wasn’t 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 Emiliano’s birth certificate and a handwritten message:
“I know how to play dirty, Julian. You decide how this ends.”
The following Monday, Julián woke up with his head in turmoil. He hadn’t slept since Daniela left him the envelope and her threat. He hadn’t had a moment of peace: only mental noise, ideas, doubts, courage…
Her cell phone was full of messages from the team, missed calls from partners, and, worst of all, a scheduled meeting with her company’s board of directors, which also included Daniela.
Reluctantly, he got dressed, got into his SUV, and headed straight to the office. As he got out of the private parking lot, he saw Daniela’s black Audi there. He knew then that she had come to fulfill her promise. There were no coincidences with Daniela.
He entered the boardroom. Everyone was already there: the senior partners, accountants, legal director… and, of course, Daniela, sitting in the back in her white dress with a restrained smile, as if nothing had happened. He knew that smile was just to hide a bombshell.
“A partner mentioned that we needed to talk to you about something urgent,” said a partner.
Julian froze for a second.
Daniela took the floor:
—I asked for this meeting because we need to talk about stability, reputation, leadership… topics that have been somewhat weak lately.
Her tone was friendly, but venomous. Julian watched her without interrupting.
—We’ve noticed you’ve been disconnected. Your performance has slipped, your involvement in key projects has been almost nonexistent… and there are concerns about your public image.
An investor shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
“What exactly do you mean?” Julian asked firmly.
Daniela looked at him with the smile of someone who knows what others don’t yet know.
—Your personal life, Julián. It’s distracted you: chasing after an ex-girlfriend and children no one knew about, and, by the way, half-assing your job.
Tense, he didn’t think she would touch him like that, in public.
—My personal life has nothing to do with this.
“Of course it is,” she interrupted. “When your name is in the media, and your personal decisions affect the company’s credibility, it does matter. Believe me, everything will start to leak out.”
The questions began. And not all of them would be flattering. The silence grew thick. Julián clenched his fists on the table.
—What do you demand?
Daniela crossed her arms, without hiding anything:
—I want you to put everything in its place. To distance yourself from Valeria Ortega, from your children, from that story. To refocus on what really matters. And if not, I’m going to leak everything: from your dereliction of responsibilities to the dirtiest details. You know what sells? The story of the millionaire who impregnated his girlfriend with triplets and now wants to return as a hero. It’s going to get out of hand on social media, you’re going to lose clients, trust, support… You wouldn’t do it with yourself… you don’t know me as well as you think.
There was an awkward silence. No one spoke. No one defended him. They looked at him, as if waiting for his decision.
Julián left that room without saying anything. He locked himself in his office, lowered the blinds, sat down, leaned his elbows, and held his head in both hands. Everything he had built, everything he had cared for over the years, was at risk. And the worst part: he felt he deserved it. For having quit, for being late, for not knowing how to handle this without breaking something.
He didn’t go see Valeria that day. He didn’t answer her messages. He raged, didn’t eat, and only thought about which path to take. If he chose Valeria and the children, Daniela would destroy his career. If he protected the company, he would betray his blood: three children who asked for nothing were only there because he decided to leave one day.
At the end of the day, when no one was in the office, Julián stood in front of the bathroom mirror. He looked at himself as if he didn’t recognize himself: dark circles under his eyes, a stubble, a dull gaze. He felt shattered. And there, with his head in tatters, he realized he couldn’t continue playing in two worlds. Daniela was right about one thing: he had to make a decision. But what she didn’t know was that, even if it cost him everything, he’d already chosen a side. He just needed the courage to confirm it.
He knew he couldn’t live like this for much longer; it was like walking on a thin wire about to snap. The days passed with excuses. In the morning, he arrived at the office and pretended to concentrate: he met with clients, discussed figures, signed papers. Sometimes he had lunch with Daniela, who treated him as if everything were on hold, but with that look that reminded him she hadn’t forgotten a single word of the threat. From time to time, she made passive-aggressive comments, like when she casually said:
—Don’t be late… you’re no longer in the mood to run around today, kids.
He pretended to laugh, but inside he felt he was being watched.
In the afternoon, however, his expression changed. He called Valeria: if she agreed, he’d pick up the children, but not in his armored truck; he used a simpler car, one that wouldn’t attract attention. Sometimes he took them to the park, for ice cream, or to the movies. Always simple things, but ones that thrilled them as if it were Christmas.
At first, Valeria wouldn’t stay. She let him drive them with a thousand instructions: “Don’t give them candy, after six the middle one’s blood pressure drops, so drive slowly; the little one doesn’t like all the hugs at once…” Julián memorized each of these instructions as if they were sacred orders, and followed them to the letter.
Over time, Valeria began to stay a while. First, she’d simply come over when the children returned; then she’d sit on the same bench while they played; then she’d accept a coffee, and one afternoon, unplanned, the five of them ended up at a neighborhood pizzeria, laughing over something silly Leo had said. It was the first time Valeria smiled without that burden on her shoulders… like before.
Julián began to really get to know his children. Emiliano was the leader: talkative and curious. Leo was quieter but observant. Mateo, the youngest, was the most affectionate: he sought out contact and leaned on his shoulder without asking.
One afternoon, during an impromptu picnic in a park, Julián was helping them blow up some balloons. Emiliano stared at him and said:
—You’re my dad.
Julian froze; he had a half-inflated balloon in his mouth. Valeria, who was a few steps behind, turned around with wide eyes.
“Why do you say that?” she asked nervously.
“Because you look like us,” Emiliano responded with the pure logic of a child. “And you take care of us and buy us things and know what to call us… that’s what parents do.”
Julian put down the balloon and looked at it, as calmly as he could muster:
—Yes, Emiliano. I’m your dad.
The boy looked at him without saying anything else, then turned around, ran to his brothers and shouted:
—I know who it is!
Valeria immediately approached. Julián thought she was going to scold him for crossing a line, but she just said in a low voice:
—Are you sure you can handle this?
He looked at her decisively:
—I’m not sure about anything, but I’m not going to run again.
That night, Julián arrived home. Daniela wasn’t there—she’d gone out to dinner with some friends. He sat on the couch, turned on the TV without paying attention, and thought about what he’d experienced that day: the children’s laughter, Valeria’s gaze, the way the youngest took his hand as they crossed the street as if it were the most natural thing to do… and he felt scared. As happy as it made him feel, he knew he had a live bomb in the other half of his life. Daniela was waiting for one mistake, just one, and when it happened, she would press the button to destroy everything. But, no matter how much she understood it, she couldn’t walk away. Not now. Not after hearing that word—”dad”—spoken so innocently for the first time. Not after seeing that family she never thought she had and now didn’t want to lose for anything in the world.
That Friday seemed like a normal day. Valeria was working her second shift in the cafeteria. The children were getting out of school at 4:00. Julián, as had become his custom, offered to pick them up. She accepted. No longer with doubts or fear, she was beginning to trust him, even if it was slowly. She was already noticing how he cared for them, how he listened to them, how he knew them.
Julián left the office a little early. He was happy. In his backpack, he carried action figures he’d bought for each of them. He planned to take them out for hamburgers and then watch a movie at his apartment. He was excited, as if he were experiencing a part of his life he didn’t even know about, a part he loved more than any award, signing, or contract.
As he arrived at school, his cell phone rang: it was an unknown number. He answered without thinking:
—Is this Mr. Julián Castañeda?
—Yes, he speaks.
—We’re calling from Ángeles del Pedregal Hospital. One of the children in your care was admitted to the emergency room. He’s in the emergency room.
Julián felt his heart sink to the ground. He didn’t know whether to scream or simply thought he had. His heart pounded like he’d run a marathon. He hung up without another word, started the car engine, and sped off to the hospital. He called Valeria twice: nothing. On the third call, she didn’t answer either. He texted on WhatsApp: “Leo had an accident. I’m going to the hospital. I’ll let you know.”
When he arrived, he didn’t park properly; he left the car almost double-parked. He threw the keys to the valet and ran inside. He asked the boy’s full name and was sent straight to the emergency room. Minutes later, a doctor came out:
—Are you the father?
Julian hesitated for a second. Just a second. Then he replied:
—Yes, I’m the dad.
—The boy suffered a hard fall, hit his head, and lost consciousness. We performed a CT scan; there’s no fracture, but we’re keeping him under observation. He has a mild contusion; he’s stable, but we need to keep an eye on him. You can see him for a few minutes.
They carried 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 restless, playful boy who ran around all day.
Julian sat down next to her and took her hand:
—I’m here, son. I’m not leaving. Everything’s going to be okay.
Valeria didn’t cry, but her eyes were trembling. Twenty minutes passed before she came running in, her face pale and disheveled, still wearing her apron.
He entered the room like a whirlwind, opened the door without permission and went straight to Leo:
“What happened to him?” she asked anxiously.
“He fell at recess,” Julian replied quietly. “They called him because he was on the emergency card; you didn’t answer.”
Valeria held her son’s face, spoke softly, and kissed his hand and forehead. Then she turned to look at Julián, her eyes red, but not watery:
—Thanks for coming… I could hardly…
“Did they tell you how it went?” he asked.
—Yes. He tripped on the stairs, fell backward, lost consciousness for a few minutes… but he’s fine. They’ll just keep him for observation.
She nodded. She stroked his hair.
—Can I keep him?
—Yes. I already talked to the nurse about it. They’re going to take him to a room in a little while. You can both stay.
Julian looked at her calmly:
—I’m staying too. If you let me…
Valeria didn’t say anything. But she didn’t chase him away. She just nodded, as if something inside her didn’t want to fight anymore.
Hours later, in his assigned room, Leo woke up. The first thing he did was look at the two of them:
-Where am I?
“In the hospital,” Valeria replied, her voice trembling. “My love…”
— Valeria , she said with a nervous smile, — Leo looks at Julián, and you’re there too.
” Of course, was I going to leave without seeing you?” he replied, and the boy smiled. “Did you bring me juice?”
— Yes , and some dinosaurs.
— Well, stay .
Valeria looked at him; Julián, without saying a word, understood that he no longer had to ask permission. That night, they took turns watching the child: one slept on the couch, and the other sat next to the bed. They didn’t speak much, but there were glances, gestures, and silences that spoke volumes.
The next morning, Valeria made him coffee.
—Thank you for not leaving… thank you for letting me be.
“I didn’t do it out of gratitude,” Julian replied. “I’m doing it because I already understood that you’re not going to leave.”
“No,” she said, her voice breaking, holding back. “So let’s do it right. Daniela doesn’t forgive. She never has. Especially when she feels ridiculed for her. Having everyone find out that her fiancé has three children with another woman… it was the worst thing that could happen to her. And not just out of pride, but also out of power. In her world, respect is earned with control, with fear, with an impeccable image. And you, with your good appearance, your simple clothes, and those children who didn’t even ask to be born, just like that, you took all that away from her… without asking for it.”
Daniela didn’t scream, didn’t make a fuss. She just took a deep breath, fixed her hair in front of the mirror, and said to Lucero, her assistant:
— We’re going to make that woman disappear.
Lucero looked at her cautiously, as if knowing she shouldn’t ask, but also knowing she couldn’t remain silent.
—What do you mean disappear?
—Let no one hire her again. Let the city see her as a danger, not a victim.
—But she didn’t do anything…
—I don’t need him to have done something, I just need him to look like he has.
The next day, Daniela moved as only she knew how. She activated her network of contacts: digital media, soft news sites, gossip accounts on social media, and even a couple of crime reporters who owed her favors. And the operation began.
First, a small news item on a local portal:
Preschool Scandal: Teacher Hides Past and Works with Children Without a License , accompanied by a blurry photo of Valeria entering her workplace with a backpack on her shoulder.
Then, the social media comments exploded: stories supposedly from mothers who remembered her from years ago, falsehoods, and cascading rumors.
And it worked: in less than three days, the preschool director called her and said in a tense voice:
—We’re going to suspend you while we investigate…
—It’s not personal, but there’s pressure from parents. The school’s image is at risk.
Valeria didn’t understand anything.
“What did I do?” he asked.
—It’s not what you did… it’s what people think you did.
He left with his heart in his throat. He walked aimlessly, his hands sweating. His cell phone rang. It was Julián:
-Are you OK?
“I just got suspended from preschool,” she said, her voice shaking. “How? Why?” Julian fell silent urgently, suspecting who was behind it.
—They said there was a problem with my “story,” that there was an old complaint, that people were talking badly about me on social media…
—I don’t know what you’re talking about, Julian… I never did anything wrong.
He knew it at that moment: this was all Daniela’s doing. He didn’t need proof; he felt it in the air.
He hung up and called Mateo without waiting any longer:
—Mateo, I need you to investigate whether anyone on Daniela’s team has already made any moves in the media or leaked information quickly.
Meanwhile, Valeria returned to the apartment. As she crossed the door, she saw a camera focused on her from the hallway: a photographer with a telephoto lens, hoping to capture the controversy.
She closed the door firmly and cautiously peeked out. The man was still there, waiting. She didn’t sleep that night: the children were already resting, but not her. Every so often, she checked her cell phone: messages of support, many others filled with hate. Calls from unknown numbers; a woman shouted insults at her when she went to buy bread.
The next morning, Julian went to see her. He found her with even deeper circles under her eyes, her voice muffled:
—I don’t want the kids to go through this… let’s fix this.
“How is it possible they took me out of preschool already?” she asked brittlely. “What background? What background? Is having children alone now a crime?”
—You’re not getting out of this. We’re going to clear your name.
—What if there’s no way? What if I can’t go out without being looked at like an embarrassment?
—No. They won’t grow up thinking their mom was humiliated by a lie.
She looked at him exhausted, but with fire in her eyes:
—That was Daniela, right?
He didn’t have to say anything.
That afternoon, while the children were playing with Legos in the living room, Valeria sat on the sofa with a blank stare, and for the first time out loud said something she had kept to herself for years:
—I’m not going to let them destroy me again.
Julian didn’t realize the impact of those words until after he heard them. It all happened in a matter of days, as if someone had pulled a string and suddenly everything came crashing down.
First, a call from a foreign investor: concerns about public reputation, rumors of personal instability at the top. Julián tried to calm the waters. But it was too late; doubts had been sown. Then came the emails: another senior partner canceled a major deal months in the making. He mentioned internal restructuring, new approaches, new opportunities… but Julián knew what it really meant: he was being left alone. And behind it all was Daniela.
He didn’t drop one bombshell. He dropped several at the same time. He let the public judge him on his personal life, leaked his absences, and exposed how he prioritized personal matters amid important negotiations. Who knows, Lucero, his loyal assistant, even leaked a copy of one of his children’s birth certificates; the document went viral on a financial forum with the headline “The Millionaire Who Forgot His Children . “
The damage was done. His assistant Mateo walked into his office one day, his face gloomy: two more partners had left.
The bank no longer renewed the line of credit. “Do you think your reputation is affecting the brand’s value?” Julian didn’t respond; he just looked at everything with dry eyes; he could no longer get angry, nor was he surprised. It was like watching from the outside, as if all this were happening to someone else.
That same afternoon, he received a message from Daniela: just three words: I warned you . And then he realized there was no way he could continue in that world. Not like this, not with her waiting for him with a loaded gun, not with that hell hanging over him.
He realized that everything he’d built could disappear. But what he was building with Valeria and the children… that was worth it. That made sense.
That night, while the children were sleeping and Valeria was washing dishes in her apartment, he sat next to her, this time without a suit or a cell phone in his hand. She was more tired, more human.
“I lost everything,” Valeria said bluntly. “Daniela made good on her threat: they removed me from projects, canceled my contracts, kicked me off the board, erased me… and now what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” Julian replied. “But I want to do it with you.”
She didn’t say anything, she just looked at him.
“I don’t want to live torn between two lives anymore,” she continued. “I don’t want to hide anymore. I don’t want to keep quiet anymore.”
Valeria sighed and sat down next to him.
—I can’t promise you everything will be okay… not even with me. But I can promise you I won’t leave. Even if we start from scratch… even if I start from the bottom, from Mr. Couture Suit…
Julian laughed, for the first time in days.
—I don’t have any suits anymore… I sold them all.
—And what are you going to do?
—I’m going to sell my share of the company. That’ll be enough for a while. We’ll see later. I’m tired of living to look good in front of others.
Valeria looked at him, scared, but with something new in her eyes: respect.
—Are you really going to do that?
—I’m already doing it.
Valeria looked down, and in that small kitchen, without promises, sentimentality, or literary hugs, she took Julián’s hand.
The next day, Julián went to his old office alone to sign his departure papers. He wasn’t dramatic, he didn’t give speeches, he didn’t ask for applause. He walked in, signed his name, picked up a few personal belongings: a photo of his father, an old mug with his name on it, and a notebook, and left.
Daniela didn’t appear, she didn’t show her face. But he knew she was watching him from her office, probably feeling like a victor. Maybe in that world she won. But Julián didn’t want to play that game anymore.
She got in her car, put on some music for the first time in weeks, and, for the first time in a long time, didn’t feel her heart shattered. She felt fear, yes. But also relief. Because now she was free to live the life she wanted. And as she crossed the Periférico highway with the sun setting, she knew her true story was just beginning.
The apartment was small, with light walls and worn furniture. But it had something Julián hadn’t felt in years: peace . Not boring peace, nor the kind you fake so others won’t ask. It was something else: the sound of three children running down the hallway in mismatched socks, the smell of burnt breakfast as everyone complained, the beautiful chaos of a real family.
Since leaving the company and selling his stake, Julián changed completely. The first thing he did was buy an old car, one of those with a push-button stereo and windows that roll up by hand. The second was to stop watching financial news or checking his work email. He closed that door without looking back.
Now he got up every day at 6 a.m. Not because of meetings or international flights. He got up because the kids had to get ready for school. Because one took ages to get dressed, another hid his shoes, and the youngest always lost his lunchbox. It was crazy… but he loved it.
At first, Valeria looked at him with a raised eyebrow, as if wondering if he was serious or if he was going to quit at any moment. But the days passed… and Julián was still there: serving coffee, sweeping the living room, carrying backpacks, helping with homework. Sometimes he did it poorly, sometimes clumsily, but always with enthusiasm. That was what spoke most to Valeria.
One day, while they were collecting clothes from the clothesline, Valeria looked at him out of the corner of her eye:
—Don’t you miss that other life? With expensive dinners and tight ties?
“That one?” he answered honestly. “A little? Honestly, I’ve never slept so peacefully… even though I woke up at 3 a.m. because I dreamed about monsters and the other kid accidentally kicked me.”
Valeria let out a soft laugh… a laugh she hadn’t managed in a long time; without much effort, without filters. Julián looked at her for a second longer than necessary. She noticed, but didn’t look away; she lowered her gaze with a shy smile.
“So what are you going to do now?” he asked, folding a T-shirt.
—I don’t know… I have some money saved, but I don’t want to go back to the same thing. I was thinking about starting something small. My own business… a coffee shop, something quiet.
—You, in a cafeteria?
“Yes,” he replied. “I even know how to make good coffee. Mateo—the one in the suit and glasses from before, now a food truck owner—told me it’s going well.”
Valeria looked at him in surprise.
—And you would leave the millions…
—That’s why I left them that day.
For the first time, the five of them ate together at the dining room table, unhurried, uninterrupted. Julián sat between the children, cutting his chicken, pouring water, and wiping the sauce off the tablecloth without complaint. He looked tired, but happy, as if he was finally in his place.
Later, while they were playing with colored blocks, Mateo, the youngest, climbed onto her lap and said bluntly:
—Dad, can you come to the open lounge tomorrow?
Julian looked at it as if he had just received the biggest award in the world.
“Is the lounge open?” he asked.
—Yes. It’s a day when dads can come watch us dance and recite poems… and there will be cookies.
—Of course I’ll be there.
Valeria heard him from the kitchen, saying nothing, but her chest tightened… not with sadness, but with emotion.
It was the first time one of the children called him “Dad,” quite naturally. Without hesitation, without thinking about whether it was right or wrong.
That night, Julián washed the dishes, swept the living room, and stayed up watching TV with Valeria… nothing special, just a game show with endless commercials. But they felt calm, unhurried, without awkward silences.
“Do you know what the hardest part is?” Julian said, half asleep.
—What… —she replied.
—Not shouting to the world that this is the life I always wanted.
She looked at him, turned off the TV, and stood there in silence. It was no longer the silence of distance. It was one that said, “I’m here too.”
Things finally seemed settled. The routine at home was no longer chaotic. It was tranquility. A routine that is tiring, yes, but also brings peace. The children no longer asked for strange things or were confused. Valeria and Julián learned to move together, to trust, to give each other space.
Valeria gave a nervous smile:
—I’m crying while Mateo recites a poorly memorized poem that ends in laughter —she said.
Everything was going well… until Daniela came back.
The first clue was a letter: a white envelope with no return address. Valeria found it in the mailbox one afternoon, returning with the children from the stationery store. She opened it without giving it much thought. It was an official document, a court document, signed, sealed, a subpoena. The case of fraud by altered documents, filed four years ago, had been reopened. Valeria Ortega was named as the defendant .
She felt as if the ground had opened up beneath her feet. Her hands went numb. She called Julián from the same cell phone, while the children screamed all around her. He arrived in less than twenty minutes. Reading the summons, she understood everything: they didn’t need proof, they didn’t need to investigate. That move had a name: Daniela .
“Did something like this happen to you before?” Julian asked, his voice tense.
“Yes,” she replied, looking at the floor. “Years ago, when I worked in a small office doing paperwork, the boss asked me to sign some documents. I trusted him. I didn’t ask. I was pregnant. I needed the job. Then he disappeared… And they pointed the finger at me. I fought back, I cried, I explained everything… In the end, there was no evidence, and the case was closed. But that left a mark. And now they’ve brought it up again.”
Julián gripped the steering wheel tightly. He knew Daniela was capable of dirty deeds, but this was on another level. She wasn’t just angry. She was determined to destroy. And this time she was going after Valeria.
Days later, rumors began to circulate at school: some mothers were whispering things. One even said to her face:
“They say you’ve had trouble with the law… how ugly, and on top of that, it affects the children.”
Valeria didn’t respond. She swallowed her courage and left, upright, but shattered inside.
Julian began to move. Although he no longer had the power he once had, he still had connections. He called a lawyer, a very trusted former client. He explained everything to him. The lawyer reviewed the case and was clear:
—This smacks of revenge. But the judge agreed to reopen it because someone presented “new evidence.” Someone with influence pushed it. If we don’t stop this, it’s going to escalate. And if we try to prove that evidence is false, it could take time… and in the meantime, she’ll be guilty… even if she isn’t.
Valeria listened in silence. Each word weighed like a stone on her chest.
That night, when the children were asleep, they sat facing each other in the kitchen. The light was dim. They didn’t speak loudly, as if they didn’t want to wake anyone… except for the small spark of hope that still remained.
“I don’t want them to go through this,” Valeria said in a low voice.
“Me neither,” Julian replied. “But I’m not going to leave you alone. And if I lose, we lose together. You’re not going to lose again. You’ve already given everything for me… and for them… without knowing it. You’re not alone in this.”
Valeria remained silent, genuinely afraid. Fear of the trial, of the world’s judgment, of life itself. Fear of those who don’t forgive a woman who made the mistake of trusting.
Julian got up and went to the children’s room. He watched them sleep and then came back. He took her hand.
—If she wants to play dirty, we’ll play dirty too. But this time, with the truth. I’m not going to hide. I’m going to show my face.
She squeezed his hand. And for the first time since receiving that letter, she no longer felt like she was sinking alone.
In the courtroom , the atmosphere reeked 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 newscast. There, they would point the finger at her again. She would have to explain herself, defend herself. And this time with the eyes of the past, the present… and all of Mexico upon her.
Julián had been there since early in the morning. He squeezed his hand while he waited for his pass to enter. The lawyer reviewed papers, talked on the phone, and read the file over and over again as if something could miraculously change.
Valeria said nothing. She just stared at the floor. Not out of fear of the place, but because of what it meant. Because now it wasn’t just her name, her reputation, her freedom that was at stake. What was at stake was the stability of her children… that peace they were barely managing to build.
“Ready,” Julian whispered to him.
She nodded, even though she didn’t feel ready. But she had to go in.
The room was austere: a judge in the center, a secretary on one side, two chairs in front, and church-like pews. Everything felt cold… and heavy.
When her full name was mentioned, Valeria stood up and walked to the front. The judge asked her what her occupation was. She answered in a firm voice, even though her legs were shaking inside.
The prosecutor asked directly:
—Have you ever falsified documents or signed without reading them?
“I trusted my boss,” he replied. “He told me it was routine.”
—What if those documents contained false information? Don’t you feel responsible?
The prosecutor smiled, as if he already had his answer.
“Ignorance doesn’t make you innocent, Miss Ortega.”
Julian gritted his teeth. He wanted to stand up, to scream. But that wasn’t his place. It was time to wait.
The lawyer argued: the case had already been closed once due to lack of evidence; reopening it with virtually identical documents made no sense. But the judge allowed it to continue.
Later, a new statement emerged: an anonymous witness claimed that Valeria had participated knowingly and voluntarily. Tensions mounted.
Valeria looked at Julián, he looked back: “Trust . ”
The social media was already on fire: a gossip account posted that same morning:
“Former teacher accused of fraud. Mother of former businessman Julián Castañeda’s children.”
Old photos of Valeria, the children, and Julián were circulating. All of it mixed into posts filled with judgment, hate… and no real information.
But then came Mateo, almost a brother to Julián. He entered the middle of the trial with a folder under his arm and the expression of someone bearing crucial news. He handed it to the lawyer, who read it with his eyes wide open.
“Your Honor, I have a sworn statement from Ernesto Palacios, the defendant’s former boss,” the lawyer said. “In that document, he confesses that he was the one who forced Valeria to sign altered papers to exonerate herself from liability. He also admits that he fled the country with the money he collected and states forcefully: ‘She didn’t know anything about what I did.’”
The prosecutor tried to object. The judge stopped him.
“Where is Mr. Palacios?” he asked.
“He’s in Canada,” the lawyer replied.
—But is the official document notarized?
—Yes. And he also sent a video call to testify live.
The judge thought for a few seconds and authorized it.
A man in his fifties, with a beard and a tired face, appeared on the screen: Ernesto Palacios . He spoke in a firm, guilt-free voice:
—I falsified everything. I did it because my business was going to fail. And accusing her… was easier. She didn’t know anything about what I did.
I signed what he told me, Valeria said. The judge called a recess in the hall. Valeria burst into tears, not like a victim, but like someone lifting a burden she’d been carrying for years. Julián hugged her without saying anything. Finally, after all, someone was telling the truth for her, even if it was too late, even if no one remembered the harm done to her.
An hour later, they re-entered. The judge called for silence and spoke bluntly: due to the lack of new valid evidence and the confession received, the case was definitively closed. Valeria Ortega was cleared of all charges.
There was no applause or 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 following the trial felt strange—not bad, not good, just strange, like when it rains heavily and suddenly the sun comes out, but everything is still wet. People stopped talking about the scandal as much; social media became distracted by other gossip, and Valeria’s name slowly began to disappear from searches.
What seemed impossible happened: the storm calmed. She smiled again, although she still struggled on the streets. She walked with a steady gaze, but every time someone looked at her for too long, her stomach trembled, not from fear of being accused again, but from everything she’d had to carry alone for so long: years of stares, finger-pointing, rejection, and all for a mistake that wasn’t hers.
Julián, for his part, took charge of putting everything in order at home: the routine with the children, the homework, the walks to the park. But he also felt something was about to happen. He didn’t know what, but he had that feeling, that unease, like when everything is too quiet.
And yes, it was a Tuesday afternoon, when they were returning from dropping the children off at school, that they found an envelope under the apartment door. It had no return address; it only said, “To Julián. Urgent.” Valeria looked at it suspiciously.
“Open it,” Julian said, although he already felt a strange weight on his chest.
Inside was a handwritten letter and a photo. The letter read:
“You thought the past would no longer touch you, but sometimes it comes back in ways you don’t expect. This child is yours too.”
The photo showed a boy about six years old sitting on a park bench, with the same hair, the same face, and the same mole on his eyebrow that Julián had seen on his own children. It was like looking at a different version of himself in the mirror.
Julian was speechless, he didn’t understand, he couldn’t speak.
“What’s this?” Valeria asked, holding the letter. “This is a joke, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know,” he replied, his voice cracking. “Do you recognize him? I’ve never seen him before, I swear.”
She looked at him, trying to read his face. Julian could only stare at the photo, his legs shaking. He sat down.
“And what does this mean? Can it be true?” he said, barely breathing.
—Before I left… I dated someone for a short time. It was a disaster, not even serious, maybe once or twice. I left shortly after and never heard from her again.
Valeria pressed her lips together.
—And if that’s true, then I have four children, not three.
Silence enveloped them. Valeria paced the room like a caged lioness. Julián sat motionless, the letter open in his lap.
—Who could send this without saying anything else? Why now?
—But Daniela didn’t do this, this is something else.
That night, Julián didn’t sleep. He searched through old papers, photos, emails, any clue. He settled on one name: that of a woman he’d dated before leaving for Monterrey. Her name was Sara; she was discreet, serious; he never had contact with her again. But now he couldn’t get that face or the boy’s face out of his head.
The next day he went to talk to Mateo. He showed him the letter. Mateo didn’t ask anything, he just said:
—We’re going to find her, and if it’s true, then you have another story to write.
Valeria supported him. She didn’t scold him or judge him. She just asked him that, if he was going to get involved in this, he should do it right, not leave any loose ends, and not repeat the mistakes of the past.
Julián looked at the boy’s photo again. He had big eyes, a gaze that said more than any letter could convey. And there, with that photo in his hand, he understood that the past never ends, there’s just always something more. And this time he was ready to face it.
Only three days had passed since the letter arrived, but for Julián it felt like weeks. He didn’t eat well, he didn’t sleep, he couldn’t concentrate. He always kept the boy’s photo in his pocket, as if carrying it would help him understand something, or at least keep him calm.
I didn’t know if I was about to open a new chapter or lose the little I had just built.
Mateo, as always, was the one who helped him. He gave him the woman’s name, address, and even a contact number. The woman lived in Querétaro. Sara Delgado had worked at a logistics company that Julián had advised years before, no less.
Valeria told him to go without drama, without complaints. Just one thing: to 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 he hadn’t even known about, one who never asked to be born like this.
He arrived on a Friday afternoon. It took him a long time to summon the courage to knock on the door. It was a simple building, one of those where the echoes bounce around and everyone knows who’s coming up.
When he knocked, a woman opened the door without surprise, as if she knew it would happen one day:
“I knew you’d come,” she said tersely, directly. “Is the envelope yours?”
-Yeah.
—Why now?
Sara let the question pass without answering. The apartment was clean, with toys scattered on the floor. In the background, a half-open door revealed a boy watching cartoons. It was him, the one in the photo.
—His name is Iván, he’s six years old, and he was born four months after you left. I never told you because you also left without warning. I didn’t know you were pregnant; I wasn’t pregnant when you left. I found out later and didn’t look for you because it didn’t make sense; you were already in another world.
“And why now?” Julian asked, looking into her eyes.
—Because he asks, because he looks so much like you that I couldn’t play dumb anymore, because even if you’re not here, your face is there every day, and because I want you to know that you have a son.
Julian was speechless, his hands were shaking, his heart was racing.
—Can I talk to him?
Sara hesitated, then nodded and called out to him in a soft tone. Ivan came out of the room with a doll in his hand, looking at Julian as if he recognized him from somewhere.
“Hello,” said the boy.
“Hey, champ,” Julian replied, swallowing hard. “My name is Julian. You’re the one who sent me the Legos, aren’t you?”
“No, but if you want I can do it,” Ivan smiled and then fell silent, looking at him with those same eyes that Julian already knew.
He was similar to the others, but also different. There was something more reserved, more calm about him.
Julian bent down to be at her level.
—Do you like cartoons?
-Yeah.
—And the dinosaurs?
Ivan didn’t ask who he was, no. At that moment, he just walked over and gave her the doll he was holding.
—His name is Tomás, you can play with him if you want.
Julian picked it up carefully, his fingers trembling. After a while, Sara took him to take a nap.
Julian remained silent on the sofa. Sara returned and sat across from him.
—I don’t want your money, I don’t want problems. I just want you to meet him if you want. If I can’t, I want you to meet him.
—Are you sure?
—Yes, I just need time, not for him to tell others.
He arrived home that night, unsure how to start a conversation. Valeria greeted him without question and waited for him to speak.
“It’s true,” he said. “After all, he’s my son, and his mother isn’t going to ask me for anything. She doesn’t want a fight, just for me to get to know him. His name is Ivan.”
Valeria nodded. It took her a long moment to answer.
—You’re going to be in his life.
-Yeah.
—Then we’ll be there too.
—Are you sure?
—Yes, I don’t want to be the one who closes the door anymore.
The children didn’t understand it right away; it happened gradually. First, they were shown the photo, then they were told the story as if it were part of a movie. It happens, sometimes adults do things wrong, but they can also try to do them right.
A month later, Ivan met his brothers. They looked at him as if they were seeing each other for the first time and didn’t say anything strange. There was no drama or jealousy, just a simple phrase from Emiliano:
—Do you want to play?
Ivan smiled.
And so, the past, as complicated and painful as it was, blended with the present, without magic fixes, without happy movie endings, but with truth and the desire to do it right.
The rest they wrote day by day, together.