“To both of you.”
You nod.
“What are you sorry for?”
He looks down at Mateo.
“For calling him another man’s child.”
“And?”
“For calling you unfaithful.”
“And?”
“For lying about the vasectomy.”
“And?”
His voice cracks.
“For choosing Paola before I even gave you a chance to speak.”
You wait.
He swallows.
“For trying to make you pay for what I did.”
There it is.
The first real sentence.
Not perfect.
Not enough.
But real.
You sit across from him.
“Diego, you didn’t make a mistake. You made a plan. You accused me while your mistress was pregnant. You tried to take the house. You let your mother shame me. You watched me suffer while carrying your son.”
Tears fall down his face.
“I know.”
“No,” you say quietly. “You know now because the evidence made denial impossible. That is not the same as honesty.”
He closes his eyes.
Mateo fusses.
Diego instinctively rocks him.
The sight hurts more than you expect.
Because this is the life you wanted.
A father holding his son.
A mother resting nearby.
