Page 116 of Please, Forgive Me
“Yeah. It feels like she was just born yesterday, and now she’s already exploring the world with those curious eyes.” His voice was soft, almost tender, and it made me smile.
We walked in silence for a few minutes before he said something that caught me completely off guard.
“You’ve really done an amazing job with her, Maria Gabriela.” He stopped walking, looking straight at me. “Thank you for letting me be part of this.”
A lump rose in my throat, but I smiled faintly.
“She’s our daughter, Diego. You’ll always have a place in her life—no matter what happens between us.”
He nodded, and we started walking again, but I could feel something had shifted. The air wasn’t heavy anymore—it feltlighter somehow, like we were slowly rediscovering how to exist in each other’s space.
“You know,” I said, glancing sideways at him, “you’re starting to act more like the man you used to be.”
“The man I used to be?” He raised an eyebrow, a half-smile playing on his lips.
“Yeah, before everything… before we became who we are now.” I shrugged, trying to sound casual. “You’re even smiling more.”
He chuckled—a real, unguarded laugh—and it caught me by surprise.
“Maybe I’m just trying to find my way back to happiness.”
“Planning on staying single much longer?” I asked lightly, though I was genuinely curious about his answer.
Diego stopped again, turning to face me with a thoughtful look.
“As long as I need to.” He paused, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Because, honestly, the only woman I think about is you.”
I froze for a second, caught off guard by his honesty. Before I could react, he added, with that mischievous glint I knew all too well, “Well, you and our daughter, of course.”
He smiled—that smile—and I couldn’t help laughing, the sound carrying through the park and catching Clara’s attention.
Things between us were still complicated, but in that moment, I felt like maybe—just maybe—things could start to get better. The connection we once had was still there, fragile but real, and though I had no idea where it might lead, I realized that with time and a bit of humor, maybe we could figure it out together.
Diego started pushing the stroller again, looking more relaxed now.
The calm of that morning felt like the beginning of something new. And as we walked, trading teasing remarks and meaningful glances, I realized that, for the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel quite so lost.
“You really need to stop flirting with me—it’s dangerous,” I teased, not expecting a serious reply.
“For me or for you?” he shot back playfully, though there was a depth in his gaze that made me pause.
“Maybe for both of us,” I said, keeping my tone light, though the way he was looking at me made my heart race.
We kept walking, the sound of leaves crunching under our feet mixing with the distant laughter of children. But then Diego stopped abruptly and turned toward me, his eyes locking onto mine, and suddenly, the air around us shifted.
“I think about you every day.” His voice was low and steady, carrying a weight that made my breath hitch. “I know I messed up a lot of things between us, and I can’t erase any of it, but I want you to know I’ll be there whenever you need me.”
His words hit deep, and for a moment, I couldn’t speak. There was a sincerity in his eyes that left me breathless. It was hard to reconcile the man standing in front of me with the one who’d once hurt me so deeply.
There was a new vulnerability in him—one I was still learning how to face.
Knowing we weren’t ready for that conversation yet, I decided to change the subject. I took a small step back, gathering myself.
“Well, we’ll see where things go, Diego. But speaking of being there for me… I’m starting my own business.” My tone shifted deliberately, and he seemed to catch on.
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’ve been excited to get back to work—but this time, for myself. I’m using the severance money from Amacel to invest in a small business. Though, honestly, finding the right place has been harder than I thought,” I admitted, trying to sound casual, though a flicker of worry must’ve shown in my voice.
