CHAPTER 48
“Trust is built with patience and preserved with care…”
MARIA GAbrIELA
Today, Clara turned one, and the anticipation buzzing inside me was almost visible.
The idea of Diego organizing the party still felt surreal. He’d never been the kind of man who handled that sort of thing well. Back when we worked together, he’d delegate everything, keeping a safe distance from anything even remotely hands-on.
And now, there I was, standing at the entrance of his massive house, about to see the result of whatever he’d managed to put together.
Diego parked the car and turned to me, his eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and nerves I rarely saw in him.
“Ready?” he asked, a slightly unsure smile tugging at his lips.
I let out a breath, trying to calm the swirl of thoughts in my head.
“Nope. Still terrified. How many birthday parties have you organized again?”
“Counting our daughter’s?” He paused dramatically, that crooked smile already forming—the one he knew would disarm me. “One.”
I couldn’t help laughing.
He was so clearly out of his comfort zone, and somehow, that made me admire him a little. Diego had changed so much in the past few months, and I was beginning to see that his intentions—though not always obvious—were real.
The moment we stepped inside, I was greeted by a stunning sight.
Everything was in its place: a three-tiered cake topped with tiny figures of Clara and Arthur, tables decorated with flowers and balloons, and a warm, inviting atmosphere that somehow managed to feel perfect for our little girl.
Guests began arriving one by one, and I found myself taking it all in, genuinely impressed.
Not just by the decor—but by Diego himself.
He was everywhere, making sure everything went smoothly, chatting with guests, checking that Clara was happy, and—more than anything—being a hands-on, attentive father.
Watching Clara and Arthur play together made my chest tighten in the best way.
Clara, with her bright eyes and easy laugh, was clearly obsessed with her big brother.
And Arthur, in his own sweet, protective way, treated her with such care it made me certain they’d always have each other—no matter what happened between their parents.
Seeing them like that—laughing, carefree—filled me with a peace I hadn’t felt in a long time.
“They really love each other, don’t they?” I murmured, more to myself than to Diego.
He nodded, stepping closer and resting a gentle hand on my shoulder.
“Yeah. They’re lucky to have each other… and I’m lucky to have you here today.”
There was something in the way he said it—his voice soft, unguarded—that made me think that maybe, just maybe, we were beginning to build something different.
Something better.
But for now, I decided to focus on the celebration. Today was Clara’s day, and all that mattered was that she was surrounded by love, laughter, and the promise of a happy childhood.
And in a way, I was too. My heart was still cautious, but maybe—just maybe—it was starting to believe that some changes really could be for the better.
Diego stood at the center of the room, holding the microphone firmly, the quiet confidence I knew so well radiating through his posture. The hum of conversation faded, and every head turned toward him.
“I want to thank everyone for being here today to celebrate our Clara’s first birthday,” he began, his deep voice carrying easily across the room. “It’s a special moment—not just for me, but for all of us who’ve watched this little one grow, so full of life and joy.”
I watched in silence, a rush of emotions rising inside me.
Diego looked different now. More grounded. More present. And no matter how much I tried to keep my distance, it was impossible not to notice how much he’d changed.
He went on, thanking friends, family, and most of all, Clara—who, as he put it, had brought light into his life in ways he never expected.
“And…” He paused, his eyes locking on mine, and my heart skipped a beat. “Today, we’re not just celebrating our daughter’s birthday. I wanted to take this chance to celebrate someone else—someone who’s been essential in my life, even if it took me far too long to admit it.”
His words caught me completely off guard. Before I could process what was happening, Diego made a small gesture with his hand.
One of the staff appeared, pushing a cart covered by a large white cloth. My pulse quickened. I had no idea what to expect.
“Maria Gabriela…” he began, walking toward me, his gaze steady, his tone sincere.
“I know I haven’t always been the man you deserved.
And I know our story’s had more ups and downs than either of us would like to remember.
But today, ten days before your birthday, I wanted to do something special—because you deserve more than I could ever put into words. ”
He pulled off the cloth, revealing a large, beautifully wrapped box. My hands trembled slightly as he handed it to me.
“Open it,” he said softly.
With shaky fingers, I untied the ribbon and lifted the lid.
Inside was something I never could’ve imagined.
A miniature model of what looked like a dance studio—complete with mirrors, ballet barres, and tiny lighting fixtures. For a moment, I was frozen, unable to speak.
“I know dancing has always been a big part of your life—something that makes you happy,” Diego said, watching my reaction carefully.
“So, I wanted to give you this… your own space. A dance studio. The real one’s almost finished, in one of the buildings I recently bought.
I thought you might want a place to dream, to create… to be yourself.”
His words echoed in my mind as I stared at the detailed model.
A dance studio. It was something I’d never told him, yet it had always been one of my greatest dreams. And now, somehow, it was real.
“I…” I tried to speak, but the words caught in my throat.
The emotion was overwhelming. Diego had taken the time to understand what I wanted—what truly made me happy—and now he was giving it to me in a way I never would’ve thought possible.
He stepped closer, his eyes still locked on mine.
“I hope this is the start of something new… a gift for the future. And, well, you know me—I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer.”
I stood there holding the box, feeling the weight of everything—of the moment, the gesture, the possibilities.
The entire room was silent, everyone waiting for my reaction. And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t know what to say.
Diego’s words echoed in my mind, blending with the rapid thrum of my heart. I was speechless—but deep down, I knew something had shifted.
“Guilty! He came to me, and I told him your biggest dream!” my friend blurted out, breaking the silence. “I might like him now. Not a lot, but… a little.”
I couldn’t help but smile.
I looked at Diego, still at a loss for words, and simply whispered my thanks. It was the least I could do.