Page 104 of Please, Forgive Me
“A little sister? Really?”
I nodded, keeping my tone calm and steady.
“Yeah, she was just born. Her name’s Clara.”
He fell silent for a moment, processing what I’d said. Then his expression turned serious, and he asked,
“When can I see her?”
“Soon, I promise. But you need to understand… things are a little complicated right now.”
He frowned, clearly trying to wrap his head around what complicated meant.
How do you explain to a child that the adult world is made up of mistakes, regrets, and feelings that never quite fit in the right place?
“And… does that mean I’m gonna have a mom now?” His question came out hesitant, and my heart clenched.
That was the one question I didn’t have a real answer for.
I ran a hand through his hair, buying time but also trying to find the gentlest way to respond.
“I don’t know, son,” I admitted quietly. “But what I can promise is that I’ll always be here for you—and for your little sister. We’ll figure it out together, okay?”
He looked me right in the eyes, as if searching for the truth in what I’d said. Then he nodded, accepting it with the kind of resilience only kids seem to have.
“Okay, Dad. I wanna meet Clara soon.”
I smiled, relieved that he didn’t press the question about a mom any further. But I knew that thought would keep circling in his mind—just like it did in mine.
As he went back to playing, I dropped onto the couch, feeling drained. It wasn’t a physical kind of exhaustion—it was mental, emotional. Nothing in my life felt settled, and I knew there was a long road ahead.
But at least I understood what mattered most now: doing right by my kids, even if the rest of my life was a mess.
And deep down, watching my son play, I knew I’d eventually have to face my feelings for Maria Gabriela too.
For now, though, I needed to focus on what I could control—being a present father and trying, somehow, not to screw everything up again.
MARIA GABRIELA
I thought about how quickly everything had changed.
Just a few days ago, Diego had called—and for the first time, his voice had sounded… human. There was a vulnerability in the way he asked, almost begged, for Arthur to meet his little sister.
It was clear he was trying to do the right thing, maybe to make up for some of the damage he’d done.
While those thoughts circled in my mind, Max, somehow sensing the shift in my mood, trotted in from the living room. He looked happy, tail wagging, until I noticed what he had in his mouth.
My heart froze for a second.
The vibrator. Again.
He was wagging it from side to side like it was his favorite toy, his tail going a mile a minute in that way only Max could manage. The scene was so ridiculous—and somehow so perfectly timed—that I burst out laughing harder than I had in a long, long time.
“Max, you little troublemaker!” I said between laughs, trying to compose myself as I walked toward him.
He backed up, thinking I wanted to play, and started shaking the damn thing even harder, which only made me laugh more.
That dog had an uncanny talent for showing up at the most inappropriate moments just to… well, be Max.
