MARIA GABRIELA
I felt like I was suffocating—I needed air.
Inside the office, the air felt too heavy, every corner of that building a reminder of the fight with Diego, of his harsh words and the way he’d thrown me out of his office without even giving me a chance to be heard, to be believed.
I had to get out.
I crossed the lobby quickly, not caring about the curious glances from coworkers. The moment I pushed through the glass doors and felt the cool wind outside, I inhaled deeply, trying to ease the weight pressing against my chest.
The sky was clear, and the sound of waves in the distance did a little to calm my nerves.
Without a destination, I started walking. My legs carried me toward the beach as if they knew exactly where I needed to be. When I found a weathered wooden bench, worn down by sun and salt, I sat, feeling the soft warmth of the sun on my shoulders—yet even that couldn’t bring me comfort.
The tears came before I could stop them. My hands trembled in my lap, and I raised one to my face, trying to wipe the wetness away, but it was useless.
I was unraveling there, alone on the beach.
I’d never imagined it would come to this—being treated like that by Diego, the man I respected and, against my will, had started to feel something deeper for.
But today… he’d looked at me like I was a liar, a manipulator. He’d laughed in my face, doubting me.
His words echoed in my head, sharp as blades.
“I used protection. This isn’t possible.”
I knew it was hard to believe. Even I’d struggled to accept the result of that test. But I wasn’t lying. There was no trick.
Diego was the father. He was the only one. There was no one else, there couldn’t be.
And still, he refused to believe me. He rejected me with a coldness that cut deeper than I was ready for.
I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the sea breeze tug at the strands. My head was a mess.
I’d always known working for Diego would be complicated.
He was intense, unpredictable, with that teasing edge that managed to bring out the best and worst in me at once. And the line between professional and personal—the line I’d fought so hard to keep—had blurred the night we slept together.
I’d given in, let myself be carried by something that had been growing between us for months. But I never thought it would destroy us.
“Why did you do this to me, Diego?” I whispered into the wind, as if it could carry my question to him, as if it could give me the answers I so desperately needed.
But he wasn’t there to listen. And the reality was I was alone, dealing with the fallout of this chaos.
The fact that he’d used a condom only made everything more confusing, harder to explain. I understood his side—it was almost impossible to believe. But at the same time, the facts couldn’t be denied.
I knew what was happening to me, and I would never lie about something so serious.
I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of emotional exhaustion settle over me. All I wanted was to disappear, to run from this mess. Maybe if I quit the job, it would all go away.
But it was too late for that. I was in it up to my neck, and quitting wouldn’t change the fact that I was pregnant.
I pressed a hand to my belly, still barely able to believe there was a life growing inside me.
It was terrifying, surreal.
I’d never pictured myself in this situation—especially with a man like Diego. He was the last person in the world I thought would be the father of my child. But against all odds, that was the reality staring me in the face.
Another wave of tears built, but this time they weren’t only from sadness. They were from fear.
Fear that I wouldn’t be able to handle this. Fear of facing Diego again. Fear of not knowing what the future held. And, most of all, fear that he would never accept this child—that he would reject it the way he’d rejected me.
It was hard to believe that just a week ago, Diego was the man I’d let myself dream of something more with.
Now, it felt impossible.
I ran my fingers under my eyes, wiping away the tears, trying to pull myself back together, but inside, I was still in pieces.
I knew I had to be strong, that I’d have to face whatever came next. But right now, all I wanted was a breath—a moment of peace, far from the storm.
Minutes passed, and the beach began to fill with people enjoying the sunny day, but I felt no connection to them. I was isolated in my own world of doubts and uncertainty.
“I just wanted him to believe me,” I whispered again, feeling the ache deepen.
But Diego was Diego. And I knew that behind that facade there was a reason for his coldness, for his distance. Maybe he was protecting himself.
But that didn’t make it hurt any less.