A humble cleaning lady, who still had to leave her little daughter, decided to take her to work, but she never imagined that her millionaire boss’s reaction would change everything.

Claudia woke up at 5:30 in the morning like every day, with a sore body and swollen eyes from not sleeping well, but still time to complain.

The old alarm clock on her bedside table was already sleeping, but she had the clock in her head since her husband died 4 years ago. Her daughter Repata, barely 4 years old, slept deeply cuddled to a stuffed animal that already had its ears drooping.

Claudia stared at her for several seconds before getting up. She felt sad about waking her, but she couldn’t leave her alone. She’d have to take her to work again.

He moved quickly around the small house he shared with the Sao Pedro neighborhood. A humble house, with painted walls and worn paint, the only light bulb on the ceiling, and it was old and taking its time to improve.

He served a little bird with warm milk for Repata and black coffee for her, all in silence so that the girl could stay asleep a little longer.

While she was having breakfast, she was thinking about how to explain to Mr. Leoardo that her daughter would be with her again. She had already told him that she didn’t have to leave her, but it always seemed that at some point she would tell him that she couldn’t go on like this, that he should find another option. As if that were easy.

Claudia had already looked for a grocery store, but she couldn’t afford the cheapest one and she didn’t have any family who could help her. Things were what they were.

At 6:15, Repata woke up with a kiss on her forehead. The girl opened her eyes lazily, stretched, and asked the same question she asked every day. Today you’re going to work, Mom. Claudia smiled and replied that she was, but that she was going with her, like other times.

Repata nodded because she liked the big house. She said it looked like a castle. Although he didn’t let her touch almost anything, she was still happy just to be there.

While she was dressing her, Claudia kept telling her not to make any noise, not to touch her every time, not to run through the halls and not to go into Mr. Leoardo’s office. It’s very important that you be well behaved, my daughter. I need this job.

He told her very firmly but sweetly. They left the house at 7, as always. He walked four blocks to the bus stop. Claudia had her backpack slung over her shoulder and a bag with some food in it.

And Repata with a pink backpack where she carried her small toys and a notebook to draw, went to the truck like every morning between pushes and Claudia made sure that the girl was well seated next to the road.

The journey lasted about 40 minutes and Repata spent it looking at the cars, the people, the stray dogs and asking questions without stopping. Claudia answered as much as she could, although sometimes she didn’t have the brains to do anything.

They arrived at the Lomas del Ecio neighborhood, where everything was different: wide streets, pruned trees, houses with electric fences, and gardeners trained from early on.

The house where he worked was on the corner of a quiet street, behind a huge black gate. Claudia had to call on the intercom to get someone to open it for her.

The security guard, Mr. José, already knew her, smiled at Repata and opened the door for them. Claudia thanked him with a quick glance and a look. The house was huge, two stories high, covered with vegetation on all sides, and a garden bigger than her entire street. Claudia was still cheerful when she entered, having already worked there for two years.

Everything was clean, tidy, and smelled of fresh wood. Mr. Leoardo almost never left his office in the morning. Claudia knew exactly what to do. He would go up at 8, come down for breakfast at 9, and then close up to work or go out to meetings. Sometimes I didn’t see him all day; I only left him messages through the butler. That day I thought it would be the same.

She left through the service door as usual. Claudia asked Repata to stay seated in the corner of the kitchen where she could see her. She gave her the colored pencils and a piece of paper. The girl began to draw, and she began to clean, starting with the dining room. Everything was normal.

She washed the dishes the cook had left, swept, mopped, rearranged the chair cushions, and dusted the furniture that held the expensive bottle collection. At 8:15, she heard footsteps on the stairs. Her heart leapt. She hadn’t expected him to come down so early.

Leoardo appeared in the living room with his white shirt unbuttoned and a furrowed brow. His hair was a little disheveled and he was carrying a folder in his hand. Claudia froze with the rag in her hand. He headed straight for the kitchen. When he entered, he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Repata there, sitting on the floor, focused on her drawing.

Claudia felt her stomach clench, took a deep breath, took a step forward, and explained that she didn’t have to leave her, that it would only be for a few hours, that she promised it wouldn’t cause any trouble. Leonardo didn’t say anything, bent down, resting lightly on his knees, and looked at Reata’s drawing. It was a huge house with a girl standing in the garden and a big sun on the corner.

Repata saw him and said, scared, “This is your house, sir, and that’s me playing.” Leonardo blinked, said nothing for a few seconds, then sat up, straightened his shirt, and, to Claudia’s surprise, smiled. A slight smile, as if something had unlocked inside him.

“Okay,” he said again and left the kitchen. Claudia didn’t know what to think. She’d never seen him like that before. Mr. Leonardo wasn’t rude, but he wasn’t warm either. He was a serious man, with a hard look that almost didn’t say much. But that smile was something I hadn’t expected. He continued to wipe his head with a racing heart and looked at Repata out of the corner of his eye.

The girl continued to draw, dragged along, as if she hadn’t. At 9 o’clock, the cat came down from the car. Claudia thought that now she would get scolded, but no. Leoardo sat down at the dining room table and asked for some coffee. Then, from his chair, he asked Reata what her name was.

She responded with all the parenting in the world, as if they were friends. He asked her what she liked to do, and she replied that it was drawing, running, and eating paa dulce. Leoardo laughed. A low laugh, but real. Claudia sensed that something strange was happening and didn’t know if she should be worried or not. The rest of the morning was different. Leoardo stayed longer at the house.

He went out to the garden to make some calls, but before leaving he asked Claudia if Repata could play there for a while. She didn’t know what to answer, she just said yes, if it wasn’t too much trouble, and he replied that it was, that he liked seeing her there. Claudia stared at him, not knowing how to react. While she was sweeping the entrance, she saw her daughter running through the bushes, laughing alone, and Leoardo sitting on his back, looking to see if he could say anything.

The man who had lost his wife three years earlier and who had lived like a shadow ever since seemed to be coming back to life that day. Claudia didn’t realize that day was over, but for the first time in a long time she felt that maybe things could change and that everything had started like any other day. Repata was sitting in the garden with her legs crossed, pulling little flowers from the grass and making mops for color.

She was wearing a little white blouse with little bits of pajama set that hadn’t come out in the wash and a ponytail that had already come undone. While she played, she talked to herself, like children do, telling stories about how one flower was a princess and another was a dragon.

Claudia watched her from the kitchen door, wiping her hands with an old rag. She was worried that it would make noise or that something would happen. She didn’t want to give him any reason to tell her he couldn’t bring her any more. Leoardo was inside his office, as always. Some rustling of papers and a call on the loudspeaker could be heard.

Claudia didn’t understand what she was talking about, but her voice was firm, one of those that doesn’t matter, even if you’re not watching. When Repata began to sing softly while she arranged her flowers in the row, Claudia wanted to run over and tell her to be quiet, but before she could move, Leoardo came out. He was with his cell phone in hand and had a tired expression. He stopped suddenly when he saw the girl lying down.

Claudia froze. She expected him to say something, to shut her up, to ask her why she was there again, but no. Leonardo put his cell phone in his pocket and approached slowly, as if Claudia knew what he was doing. He crouched down next to the girl and asked her what he was doing.

Repata looked at him, thought about it for a second, and then told him the name of the cartoon. She asked him if he saw that cartoon too. Leoardo gave a little laugh. No, I didn’t see it, he said. But he liked the way he looked. Claudia didn’t know what to do. It was like seeing another person.

The same man who was walking by didn’t say hello, got out, and looked at the others. Now he was crouching down, talking to his 4-year-old girl about cartoons. He continued talking as if nothing had happened. He explained that one flower was Mama Flower, another was Papa Flower, and that he was taking care of his little ones. The petals. Leoardo nodded as if he were really there, and then it happened. He laughed. A soft but real laugh. And it wasn’t just once.

Repata said something else, something about the petals being naughty and escaping from the garden, and he let out a low, but clear, laugh. Claudia felt her throat tighten. She didn’t know if it was joy, surprise, or fear. Seeing him laugh like that was like watching it rain in a deserted place. You could tell he didn’t do it all the time.

He stayed with the girl for a while longer, watching her arrange the flowers by color. He asked her if she liked being there. Repata said yes, that it was like a park with a roof and that she wished she lived there. Leonardo looked at her seriously for a moment, but then smiled again. After a few minutes, he got up and told Claudia that she could let the girl play there as long as she wanted, that it was no problem.

Claudia only managed to say a very low thank you. He acted more like everything was normal, but for Claudia nothing was normal. Later, when the floor of the hallway that connected to the library was already cleaned, Claudia stopped for a moment when she heard Leoardo’s laugh again. This time it came from the office. It wasn’t loud or exaggerated. But it was there.

That hadn’t happened yet. Claudia peeked out a little. She didn’t want to spy, just look. She saw Leoardo sitting at his desk with a chair in front of him. She had a sheet of drawings in her hands and he was looking at them. Suddenly, the girl looked up and said something she couldn’t hear, but it made Leoardo laugh at her. Claudia quietly withdrew.

She didn’t want to be ruined. She didn’t know how long that good attitude would last, but she was determined to keep it going. The cook, Marta, a 50-year-old woman who had worked in the house for years, approached Claudia as she gathered towels from the guest bathroom.

She told him in a low voice that she had only seen the boss like that, that ever since Mrs. Daiela died, he didn’t laugh, didn’t talk more than necessary, didn’t let anyone take up his space. “And now that girl has really put it in her head,” Marta commented, surprised. Claudia could only shrug. She didn’t want to get carried away. She didn’t know what all this meant. At mealtime, Leonardo asked to be put further at the table. Claudia thought it was for some guest, but no.

She said Repata would eat and the girl looked happy as if it were the most normal thing in the world. She asked for flavored water and Marta served her a little hibiscus. Leonardo didn’t say anything, he just looked at her. He asked if she liked beans. Repata said yes, but that she once ate some that tasted like dirt. He laughed at her.

Claudia stood by the stove, wondering if that was right or wrong. Leonardo called her name, which she almost did. He told her she could eat something if she wanted, not to worry. Claudia just said she was fine. Thank you. But she didn’t eat. Her stomach was in knots.

That afternoon, when he was already leaving, Repata ran to say goodbye to Leoardo. She gave him a drawing she had made with crayons. It was a man with a tie and a girl holding his hand. Leoardo looked at him, remained silent for a few seconds, and then put it in his desk drawer, without saying anything else.

She just stroked the girl’s head and told her to behave. On the way home in the truck, Repata asked her mom if she could come back tomorrow. Claudia didn’t know what to answer. She looked out the window with watery eyes and a heavy heart. Something had changed. She knew it, but she didn’t know if she should trust it. She had learned not to expect too much from anyone.

Sometimes, when something bad happened, it was just a precursor to something worse. That night, after cooking some rice and eggs, Claudia put Repata to bed. The girl fell asleep quickly, cuddled with the same stuffed animal as always. Claudia sat in bed staring at the ceiling. She had too many things on her mind. Leoardo, her laughter, the way she looked at her daughter, she couldn’t tell what was happening, but part of her was scared, because every time life started to get better, something always came along to lift it up, but at the same time she couldn’t tell that she had seen something in that man’s eyes, something broken, but waiting to come out. And the strangest thing is that her daughter, without realizing it

Cneta, she had been the one who opened the door for him. From that morning on, something changed in the house. It wasn’t something that was said in a formal agreement, but from then on, Repata began going with Claudia every day. The first week was like walking on thin ice. Claudia expected that at some point she would tell him that he couldn’t take her anymore, that he was breaking the rules, that he was looking for a piñera, something.

But that didn’t happen. On the contrary, every day Leoardo greeted her and the girl with a light smile. Sometimes he asked what Repata had for breakfast. Other times he just peeked into the garden to watch her play, but there was always a gesture. A small one, yes, but sincere. Claudia, on the other hand, didn’t know whether to be quiet or more cheerful. She had never seen that side of him.

In fact, Marta, the cook, and José the guard were also surprised. Marta even told him one day in a low voice while peeling potatoes that the girl had done her best to wring out a shred of joy from the boss. The days became more tiresome. Claudia cleaned more calmly, although that fear was still there that would make her run away. She felt she could breathe, although not completely.

Repata, while tato, took care of the garden as if it were me. There she had, low down, a little box of crayons and leaves and a couple of toys she brought from home. She stayed out most of the time, talking to herself, talking quietly or pretending the pebbles were children and the leaves were backpacks. One afternoon, while Claudia was mopping the hallway that led to the main room, Leoardo approached.

It wasn’t to give orders or to ask about work, it was to talk. He asked how Repata was, if she got sick often, if she ate well. Claudia responded with distrust, wondering why he was so interested. Leonardo crossed his arms and said that there were children who didn’t eat well because of a lack of money or time, that sometimes life didn’t allow for more. Claudia looked at him in surprise.

It wasn’t common to hear him talk like that, like someone who understood how difficult it was to live day to day. Then, if anything, he left. Every time he crossed paths, he’d have something to say, sometimes a comment on the weather, other times about Repata. One day he even asked her if she knew how to cook meatballs at Chipotle because they reminded him of his mom.

Claudia told him yes, that it was the first thing she had learned to cook when she got married. He agreed, said that someday he would like to try them, and left. That kept her worried all day. Repata kept flirting with everyone without making a point. José, the guard, gave her a strawberry popsicle in the afternoon. Marta started saving him some dessert from breakfast.

Even Mrs. Dolores, the older woman who came to make flower arrangements every week, taught him how to cut stems and put them in water. The girl didn’t cause problems; on the contrary, she made everything easier. One morning, Leoardo was in the garden talking on the phone. Repata approached him with her little hand in hand.

Claudia, who was cleaning vetapas, saw her and wanted to run to stop her, but she stayed put. Leonardo hung up the call and bent down to see the drawing Repata was showing him. It was a mazapapa tree. She explained that it was the chief’s tree because he killed the house. He laughed and told her that he didn’t kill anyone, that everyone did what they wanted. Repata told him that was bad, because if he killed too much, his laughter would go away.

Claudia watched them from a distance and noticed how her daughter had that facility for saying things so simple, yet so true. Leonardo didn’t become as closed off as he had been before. He was still working, of course, but he took breaks. He walked around the garden, sometimes even sitting on the bench where Repata played.

Once he told her that when he was a child he also made little stones, but his mother got angry because he messed up her diapers. Repata just laughed and told him that she didn’t have a father, but that her mother only got angry. Leonardo remained serious, he didn’t say anything else, he just ruffled her hair. That night, Claudia couldn’t sleep. She remembered what her daughter said, how she said it.

It was true. She remembered Dad didn’t have it, and she tried to show him that secret, but there it was. And if she wanted to look for it, if she knew, it was hidden in the figure of Leoardo. That scared her because she knew she couldn’t have a life there. He was her boss.

lived in a house that wasn’t my own, with a man who looked completely different. One afternoon, while Claudia was cleaning the bathrooms on the second floor, Leonardo came up, stopped at the door, and said goodbye. Then he asked if Repata was going to kindergarten yet. Claudia told him no, she didn’t have to pay the registration fee. He didn’t say anything at that moment, just nodded, and left.

Two days later, Marta arrived with a folder and gave it to Claudia. It was a form for a private preschool. Leoardo had spoken to the director. Repata had a reserved spot, all paid for. Claudia froze. She wanted to go thank him, but she didn’t notice. That day, she didn’t go downstairs. She saw him alone from a distance, talking on the phone on the balcony. She didn’t know if she should be happy or not.

It was helpful, yes, but it also made her feel compromised. The atmosphere in the house was no longer the same. Marta placed a small chair in the kitchen for Repata to sit on. José made her an improvised swing on a low branch of the tree in the fodo. Dolores brought her a bag of holy cards and Leoardo.

Leonardo didn’t always laugh, but he was no longer that cold man who passed by without looking. Sometimes he went out just to see what Repata was doing. One day he brought her ice cream and told her that if she ate it quickly, it would melt like her problems. The girl didn’t laugh, but she laughed just the same. And Claudia, who didn’t say anything, noticed everything, every look, every small gesture. Something was forming, she didn’t know what it was, but it was there.

It wasn’t normal, it wasn’t common. And that scared her, because when something changes too quickly, sometimes it’s a sign that something is coming to break it. But for now, all she could do was keep going, keep cleaning, keep caring, keep watching as her daughter’s presence pulled everyone out of that gray mess.

It started with the man who, without realizing it, had returned to laughter thanks to a 4-year-old girl who only wanted to play. That morning the sky dawned cloudy with heavy air, like a storm. Claudia left the house with Repata in tow, walked in silence. It was not a normal day. Since dawn she had dreamed about her husband and that accident that still hurt her as if it had happened yesterday.

He woke up with his chest tight, but still had time to cry. Life didn’t stop. In the truck, Repata didn’t talk as much as he did on other days. He was looking out the window, half asleep. Claudia adjusted her sweater on her shoulders, trying to think of something else, but she couldn’t.

The memory of the call she received that early morning came back as if it were a movie. Her husband was on his way to work. It was raining, he skidded. He never arrived, he never came back. From then on, everything changed. When they arrived at Leoardo’s house, the atmosphere also felt different. She was quieter than usual. José greeted him, but with that usual smile. Marta didn’t say much either.

Claudia left Repata in charge of the garden with the colors and went to work, except with her head on the other side. While she was carving the kitchen, she remembered how her husband told her that one day they would have a house like that with big trees and veins, he said. Claudia only responded with a smile because she couldn’t imagine anything so far away.

And now she was home like that, but working, or living. And alone. Always alone. Around noon, while she was cleaning the bathrooms on the first floor, Leonardo came down, saw her, and stopped. It wasn’t like the other times. He wasn’t in a hurry to carry papers, he was just there. Claudia greeted him in a low voice. He looked at her intently and asked if she had anything. She thought it was because of something work-related, but she agreed and followed him to the studio.

There Leoardo sat down on one of the chairs and pointed to the other one so she could do it too. Claudia sat with her hands and legs, not knowing what to expect. He remained silent for a few seconds, looking towards the street. Then he spoke.

He told her that he had been thinking about many things, that seeing Repata had made him remember, that he hadn’t talked about it for a long time. Claudia just listened to him. Without terror, Leoardo told her that his wife, Daiela, had been diagnosed with cancer two years after they were married, that at first he thought she was going to get better, that it was just going to be a difficult time, but it wasn’t like that, that he saw her fade away little by little, that he lived with the illness with her day by day, night by night, that he tried everything, trips, treatments, doctors, nothing helped. She died at home in her bed at dawn. Leoardo saw her leave,

he said goodbye, he just left. Claudia felt her throat tighten. She didn’t know what to say, she just looked at him with her eyes open, blinking back tears. Leoardo took a deep breath and said that after that he turned everything off, that he didn’t want to see anyone, he didn’t want to talk, he didn’t want to leave, he just went to work, to the numbers, to the emails, to the meetings and that that’s how he had lived until that girl appeared.

Repata said that at first she was only interested in the fact that she spoke so much, that she was so loose, but that soon she began to feel something strange. A kind of warmth, a movement inside her chest, a laugh that came out even if she looked for it. Claudia looked down, not knowing if that was good or bad.

Leonardo looked her in the eyes and told her it wasn’t just a question of opening wounds. He just wanted her to know that he was dead, that he had lost too, that he knew how much it hurt. Claudia didn’t hold back any longer. Tears began to fall without permission.

She told him her story, how her husband died that year, how her body was recognized, how she had to explain to her daughter, that she was even old enough to understand how she felt alone, helpless, empty, how she stopped living to just survive. Leonardo didn’t interrupt her, he just listened to her with a serious face, but with heavy eyes. When Claudia finished speaking, the two remained silent, long, heavy.

Leoardo stood up and walked toward the window. He said something without looking at her. He didn’t know how much he needed to hear laughter again in this house. Claudia wiped her tears with her hand. She looked exposed, as if she’d left all her pain on the table, but she didn’t regret it. Something had been released.

Repata ran into the studio at that moment with her hand-picked flower. It was one of those she had picked from the garden. She gave it to Claudia with a smile, as if she knew something wasn’t right. Claudia hugged her tightly without saying anything. Leoardo looked at them and for the first time Claudia felt the distance between him and them.

That day she didn’t work as usual. Marta told her to stay seated, not to worry. José brought her coffee if she asked. No one asked, but everyone noticed that something had happened. It wasn’t just any other day. On the way back to the truck, Claudia was walking quietly with Repata asleep on her arm.

The movement of the vehicle and the noise of the city surrounded her like a distant hum. She closed her eyes for a moment and considered everything she had said, what she had heard, Leonardo, and that sadness that he also carried and that now seemed to still carry them. When they got home, Repata lay down without cear.

Claudia covered her, kissed her forehead, and stayed for a while watching her sleep. Then she sat in the dark living room. She thought about her husband, her life before the accident, the broken dreams, but she also thought about the possibility of starting over, not with romanticism, just with the idea that maybe everything was lost.

And so, while the city continued to fall to pieces outside, in the small house south of the city, a married woman, her soul broken in pieces, allowed herself to close her eyes with something more than pain in her chest. It was Friday, one of those days brought to the house, with the clear sky and the fresh air that filtered through the open windows, Repata played in the garden with the cloth ball that José had given her.

Claudia was cleaning the windows in the main hallway while listening to her laughing on the other side of the hall. Leonardo was in his office, but the door was ajar, as had become customary since Repata started visiting the house. Soft music was playing, one of those instrumental jazz playlists that played at low volume while she worked. Everything seemed fine until the doorbell rang. It wasn’t common for someone to knock on the front door.

Normally he would enter through the side gate or let everyone know beforehand. José went to see what it was and came back with a face like this, “I like this.” He knocked on the kitchen counter and called Marta, who dropped what she was doing and went to the entrance. Claudia looked over from where she was standing. José murmured something that she couldn’t hear, and Marta frowned.

A few seconds later, the voice came loud and clear from the hall. Now she’s not going to let me in. The woman who came in was one of those who pretends to be if she wants to. Tall, thin, with three and tattoos, perfect hair and clothes that smelled of expensive perfume that she’d been wearing for 5 months.

She was wearing dark glasses, which she slowly removed, as if she were acting for someone. She walked around the living room without waiting for permission, as if the house were already hers, and part of it had been. It was Julieta, the best sister of Daiela, Leoardo’s deceased wife. Claudia had seen her, but a glance was enough to understand that this woman brought another energy, cold, controlling, one of those that smiles if your eyes are with you. Leoardo went down the stairs without hurrying, but with an annoyed face.

Already from above her voice sounded sharp. You didn’t tell me you were coming, Julieta. She approached with open arms as if nothing was happening. Oh, please, Leo, do I really need an invitation to come see how you’re doing? She gave him a kiss on the cheek, which he completely reciprocated. It was clear that she wasn’t welcome.

Claudia discreetly walked away, but she couldn’t help but glance sideways as the theater settled into the living room as it should. Julieta walked through the house as if she were inspecting it. She commented that everything was the same, that nothing had changed. Then, without pretending, she asked, “And that girl over there? Does she have a guard in the house now too?” Leoardo responded in a firm voice. “She’s Claudia’s daughter and that’s not your problem.” Julieta raised her eyebrows.

Claudia, who was listening to everything from the kitchen, felt her body go cold. Julieta settled into the house as if it were her obligatory visit. She sat down to drink coffee with Marta, asked questions that were no longer her concern, and made comments disguised as interest, but behind every word there was judgment.

In the afternoon, when Claudia went to collect the cushions in the garden, Julieta was sitting on the bench. She looked her up and down, as if gauging her worth. Then she spoke. You are the girl’s mother. Claudia nodded. Sweetheart, very lively. I always see you. Yes, miss. Julieta pretended to smile. How lucky you are to be in a place like this. Claudia replied.

Julieta leaned forward a little. And how long have you been working here? Two years. And you’re always so trusting? Claudia tightened her teeth. I’m just doing my job. Julieta laughed at the joke. Of course, and it seems you’re doing it very well. That conversation was short, but enough. Claudia noticed that the woman wasn’t just there visiting. She was being observed, measured, judged.

It was like a silent warning. That night, when it was all over, Claudia came out the side door with Repata asleep in her arms. José approached her seriously and said in a low voice, “Be careful with that woman. She doesn’t like anyone of that level.” Claudia just nodded, her lips pressed together. She’d already seen through him.

Two days passed. On Sunday Claudia went to work, but when she arrived, something strange occurred to her. Marta greeted her with an uncomfortable face. Did you find out? Claudia arrived. Marta took her to the restaurant and told her that Julieta had returned on Sunday to eat with Leonardo, that she had brought old photos, that she had been reminiscing about things with him, that she seemed to want to stay longer.

Claudia felt her stomach clench, not out of jealousy, not out of caution, because she knew that this woman only came to visit. During the week, Julieta appeared several times, sometimes with some excuse, other times without a clue, always well dressed, always withdrawn as if she hadn’t seen anything. She greeted him with a fake smile, one of those that children could detect at once. The girl never approached him.

He preferred to stay with Claudia or play far away where she was. Leonardo didn’t say much. He was polite, but distant, so Claudia had trouble sensing that something was broken. One afternoon, while Claudia was cleaning the dining room, she heard Julieta and Leonardo arguing in the office. She couldn’t hear everything, but some words were spoken.

I don’t understand what you’re doing with that woman here. Since when do you care? Since you stopped being you. I didn’t come to argue. Then, vegas. The door slammed shut. Claudia didn’t know whether she should feel relieved or more worried. Leoardo left shortly after and walked straight to the garden where Repata was playing with stones.

He sat next to her, didn’t say anything, just watched as the girl arranged the stones in a row. Claudia watched them from the sidewalk. She knew something was wrong, something she couldn’t control. That night, when she got home, Claudia cooked dinner as usual, but she could barely eat.

He sat down on the bed with Repata asleep next to him and thought, “I didn’t want to get involved where I was calling her.” He didn’t want any problems, but he also couldn’t forget what was happening, that his daughter was growing attached to Leoardo, that she was too, and that now with Julieta’s arrival, all of that was at risk, either out of jealousy, or competition, or because Julieta was different, something that Claudia didn’t know and was interested in knowing, but that He had power. And that power could move everything that had begun to build itself with effort.

The day had started off hot, the kind that makes you sweat from the moment the sun comes up. Claudia had been feeling tired ever since she got on the Repata truck, but she held on as usual. At that point, I couldn’t tell if the pain was physical or emotional.

Ever since Julieta reappeared in Leoardo’s life, everything felt more difficult. She entered as if she were the lady of the house and looked at Claudia as if she were an old piece of furniture out of place. Repata didn’t speak to her much, but she observed her and that was enough to make her uncomfortable. That morning Claudia tried not to worry about anything, just clean, take care of her daughter and do her job like every day.

Repata was more agitated than usual, perhaps because of the heat, perhaps because of that preoccupation that sometimes makes children nervous and they can’t explain. She played outside in the garden, but she was still laughing like other days. At noon, the sky suddenly began to cloud over, as if everything was going to fall at any moment.

The wind blew up hard and less than half an hour later it began to rain heavily. The rain shook the vegetation and the puddles grew quickly in the garden. Claudia watched from the kitchen with her forehead stuck to the glass. She knew it wasn’t just an hour’s rain, it was a long storm. And the first thing she thought about was how she was going to get home, she couldn’t leave yet. She still had hours of work left.

Around 5:00, while she was mopping the dining room floor, Marta approached her and told her that Leonardo wanted to see her. Claudia thought there was some problem with Julieta, but when she entered the study, she found him alone. Staring at the vetapal, without turning to look at her, she asked if Leonardo was afraid of thunderstorms.

She replied that she was very upset, that sometimes she was upset with the three of them, but that if she was with her nothing happened. Then he looked at her straight away and told her that it was better for her to stay the night, that it was not safe to go out like that. Claudia remained speechless. She had never slept away from home since she had become a widow. Leonardo noticed him.

He got up from his chair and approached her. He told her it wasn’t an order, just a suggestion, that if she wanted she could call someone to come and look for them, but that it was raining and it seemed complicated. Claudia looked down. She knew he was right. Going out in that storm was dangerous. Still like that, she felt uncomfortable.

Out of place. It wasn’t her home, it wasn’t her life, but she accepted. That night was different from the beginning. Marta prepared a lighter dinner than usual, warm soup, bread, and tea. Repata ate quietly, sitting at the dining room table as if it were any other day. Leoardo also ate there in his typical silence.

He asked Repata about her drawings, her favorite colors, what she wanted to be when she grew up. The girl said she wanted to be an astropath or a popsicle seller. He laughed. Claudia too. After dinner, Marta went to the guest room and made up the bed for them. She left them clean towels, a pair of borrowed clothes, and a small bottle of cream for the girl. Claudia thanked her with a tight smile, not knowing exactly what to say.

Marta looked at her sadly and just said, “Don’t feel bad. Sometimes life gives us the breaks we don’t ask for, but that we need.” The storm was still strong. The sound of the falling water was constant. Claudia sat on the bed like Repata, took off her shoes, combed her damp hair briefly with her fingers, and put her borrowed pajamas on her. Repata, as if she knew that night was special, didn’t ask any questions.

She snuggled up to her mom and fell asleep for about 10 minutes. Claudia went downstairs for a glass of water. The house was quiet. As she passed by the living room, she saw the study. She closed, but walked over. Leoardo was sitting on the couch with a cup in his hand. She asked him if he wanted tea.

She said yes, but she sat on the other side of the couch, leaving space between them. For a moment, she spoke little until he broke the silence. He told her it was the first time in years that he hadn’t sat alone, that he didn’t like what was happening, but that ever since Repata and she had been there, the house hadn’t felt empty anymore.

Claudia didn’t know how to respond, swallowed, and lowered her gaze. Leonardo leaned forward a little. He asked her if she had ever felt that time froze, that everything that hurt stayed in place for a moment. She nodded slowly. She said that when she watched her daughter sleep, something similar happened. Then he said something that stopped her in her tracks. I’m afraid to die again.

He didn’t say it as a romantic confession or as a drama. He said it with a low, firm voice, with the age-accumulated chest on his shoulders. Claudia looked at him for the first time. She saw him as a real man, not as the boss, not as the millionaire, not as the widow, just a man. A broken man like her. She told him that she was afraid too.

Fear that something bad would fall apart, that she would become delusional, that it would not be enough, that her daughter would become attached to someone who wouldn’t be there tomorrow. Leoardo closed his eyes for a few seconds, breathed deeply and then, planning it, pondering it, adoring it, he held hands. It wasn’t a romantic gesture from a movie, it was simple, sincere, two hands standing together in the middle of the silence. There were no words, no promises, they just stood there listening to the rain hit the veins, feeling for the first time that there was someone who was carrying what the other was carrying inside. They spent a long time like that. Claudia didn’t know how

time, but she felt fine, as if that space, however foreign it was, gave her the respite she couldn’t remember having since she lost her husband. Leonardo didn’t say anything else, he just got up, looked at her and gently told her to rest, that anything she needed, was there.

Claudia returned to the room with her heart beating faster than usual. She lay down next to Repata, hugged her, and closed her eyes. For the first time in a long time, she fell asleep without fear, and then the storm continued. In the morning, the sun came out again with a vengeance, as if the Friday storm had never happened.

The sky was clear, the streets were no longer flooded, and life went on as usual. But something had changed inside Claudia. That different night she spent at Leonardo’s house left her with a lot of mixed emotions. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way he spoke to her, that moment he took things in his stride, that silence they shared.

It wasn’t a kiss, or a declaration, but it was something, something real. Repata was happy, like every day. She walked to the bus stop and asked her mom if she could come back to stay at the big house.

Claudia replied that no, that it was only because of the rain, but on the other hand, she wasn’t sure she wanted to maintain that distance. She wanted to protect her daughter, of course, but she also knew that it was no longer so easy to separate everything that had happened. Her heart was full of social differences, salaries, and broken pasts. Her heart just knew. Upon arriving at the house, José greeted them with the same smile as always.

Marta was preparing breakfast in the kitchen. Claudia left her bag, gave Repata her drawing supplies, and got to work. She was sweeping the second-floor hallway when she heard the front door open. She didn’t care at first, but then she heard the voice all at once. Julieta had returned. Her footsteps were different, heels that clicked loudly, loudly.

He came down from the second floor and saw her coming into the living room wearing a purple fitted dress with a designer bag hanging from her arm. He greeted Marta as if they were old friends, since they had only been close. He then looked around as if he were being inspected. Claudia continued with her work, trying to go unnoticed, but she was not lucky.

Julieta walked up to her with a fake smile and greeted her with a look that seemed friendly, but had a hidden agenda. Good morning, Claudia, isn’t it? Claudia wiped her hands with the rag and replied respectfully. Good morning. Yes, miss. How nice to see you still here. “I’ve noticed that lately you’ve become a very important part of the house,” she said in a soft voice, but laced with double meaning. Claudia didn’t respond, just lowered her gaze and continued sweeping. Julieta didn’t move.

“It must be nice working here, especially when the boss starts smiling again. We haven’t seen that for years.” Claudia calmly raised her gaze, without falling for the provocations. “I’m just doing my job, like always.” Julieta smiled with her lips, but not with her eyes. Of course, but I imagine that no one can make Leoardo laugh.

That’s not part of the contract, is it? Claudia felt the blood running down her face. She didn’t scream, she didn’t answer with her eyes, she just took a deep breath and continued as she was, but inside, every word had sunk in. Later, while she was getting the rooms upstairs ready, Repata ran up to her with the drawing she’d made. Look, Mommy, it’s Leo and I’m on the swing. Claudia looked at him.

It was a simple stick figure, but full of clay. She hugged him and told him he was pretty. At that moment, Julieta appeared at the door. She heard everything. She walked up to Repata with that fake smile and bent down to get a closer look. “So you’re the famous Repata.”

The girl looked at her suspiciously and hid a little behind her mother. Julieta laughed. Don’t be shy. I like to draw too. Of course, at your age I only drew dollhouses. Not millionaires and swings. Claudia looked at her straight. She could no longer keep quiet. Excuse me, I’ll keep working. And she took her daughter. The atmosphere changed. She felt depressed, tense. Julieta wasn’t stupid. She knew what she was doing.

He had marked his territory. Not because he loved Leoardo, but because he couldn’t stand that someone like Claudia, a simple woman, with no surname, with a strong face, had a place in that house. That afternoon, Leoardo arrived from the restaurant, entered through the front door, left quickly, and went straight to his study. Julieta followed him. Claudia managed to see them enter.

She didn’t hear everything they said, but the voices rose. Marta heard it too. From the kitchen, they both tried to pretend nothing was happening, but the low shouts were just as audible. You know what you’re doing. Seriously, do you think this is going to end well? It’s not your life, Julieta.

Daiela wouldn’t agree with this, with that woman, with that girl over there. Daiela is dead and you’re not her. Silence. Then, quick steps. Julieta left the studio with a grim face. She didn’t say goodbye. She just grabbed her bag, crossed the room with her head high, and left. The door slammed shut. Leonardo didn’t go back out; he stayed locked in his studio for the rest of the afternoon.

Claudia didn’t dare come closer, she didn’t want to make things worse, she just hugged Reata tighter that car when she finished cleaning. Already back at her house, Claudia tried not to think too much, but it was impossible. Julieta hadn’t come to visit, she had come to push boundaries, to mark her place, to remind her who she was and who Claudia was, but something inside her broke. It wasn’t anger, it was dignity.

She wasn’t there to steal anything, she just worked, took care of her daughter, and was grateful for every small gesture of affection that had forced her to. She had no plans, no strategies, no games. She only had her life, her story, her pain, and now a small hope that everything was lost. That night, while Repata slept, Claudia looked out the door of the room and weighed everything.

Hey Julieta, hey Leoardo, hey herself. She didn’t know what she saw next, but she did know something. No one was going to make her feel bad for who she was. It was Tuesday and although the weather was calm, Claudia felt a kind of buzzing inside her chest that wouldn’t leave her alone. She had spent the entire weekend going over what had happened to Julieta, the way he looked at her, the vexed comments disguised as kindness and, most seriously, what she had said to Leoardo.

That phrase wouldn’t leave her head. Daпiela wouldn’t agree with this. Claudia knew it wasn’t her fault, that she wasn’t doing anything wrong, but she also knew how things looked from the outside. She was the maid, she was the woman who cleaned the bathrooms, someone like Leonardo had to get involved, and that, whether she wanted to accept it or not, hurt her. That day she left the house with Repata in tow, as always, but more quietly.

She couldn’t see the road to the truck. She didn’t play at ignoring the red cars, she just walked. She was silent while the girl looked at her out of the corner of her eye, as if asking if something was wrong. Claudia just stroked her head and told her she was married, that everything was fine, but it wasn’t. Her head had been turned upside down by a sea of ​​doubts.

When she arrived home, Marta greeted her with her usual warm smile, but also with a look that said more than her lips were keeping quiet. José opened the door for them without saying a word, which was unusual for him, and Claudia immediately noticed. Something was wrong. The atmosphere wasn’t the same. It was as if the air was heavier than usual, as if everyone knew something she didn’t.

She went straight to the kitchen to drop off her things and then to the laundry area. While she was putting away the cleaning products, Marta approached her. “Clau, did you talk to the boss?” “No, why?” she replied, a little worried. “Nothing, he just feels strange. He’s been different since Sunday.” Claudia swallowed. She didn’t need more details. She knew Julieta had said something, something that had left its mark.

That morning he worked in silence, doing everything more carefully than usual. He didn’t want to make a mistake. Leonardo didn’t go down, didn’t stick his head out, didn’t ask about Repata. There was no coffee in the garden, no drawings on the desk, nothing. It was as if he had become the same man as before, the silent, apathetic man, hiding from his papers.

In the middle of the morning, while Repata was drawing her usual self, Claudia went to the dining room to clean the furniture. As she left, she heard footsteps. It was Leoardo. She saw him coming down the stairs with a serious face. He didn’t look at her. He went straight to the kitchen, took a bottle of water from the refrigerator, and sat in the living room alone. Claudia watched him from a distance, wondering whether to approach him or not. She took a deep breath and cheered up. Good morning, Mr. Leoardo. He looked up and nodded.

Good morning, Claudia. Nothing more. Not a smile, no questions, just that. Claudia felt an emptiness in her stomach. She stood for a few seconds waiting for something, but he just looked at his cell phone again. He left without saying anything else. The morning passed and her tension didn’t go down. Claudia felt strongly, but she could feel her insecurity starting to invade her.

Repata noticed, came over while she was folding clothes in the laundry, and asked, “Mommy, should I read now or do you want to play?” Claudia gulped and bent down beside her. “I don’t know, honey. Maybe he’s got a lot on his mind. Is he mad at you? No, my love, he’s just busy.” Repata said nothing else, just jumped up onto her legs and hugged her tight.

Claudia felt her chest tighten. That girl was doing more than she was letting on. At the end of the day, before leaving, Claudia gathered her courage. She knocked on Leoardo’s office door. She waited. Come in. She entered with soft steps. Leoardo was sitting in his chair with the computer open in front of him. Sorry to bother you, I just wanted to know if everything was okay.

Leoпardo closed the laptop and remained silent for two seconds before speaking. Yeah, everything’s fine, right? Yeah, I’ve just been thinking about a lot of things in a short time. Claudia looked down. Tense. Leoпardo looked at her. Claudia, I don’t want you to feel bad. He hasn’t changed at all. He just needs a little space. That space is like a stone in my chest.

Claudia nodded, trying to show what she meant. Whatever you say. Goodbye. And she left. On the way home. The silence between her and Reata was longer than usual. There was no need to explain anything. The girl felt it. Claudia looked out the side of the truck with bright eyes and a twisted mind.

It felt as if the floor had moved beneath her without warning. That night, in bed, she hugged her daughter tighter than usual. She didn’t say anything, she just closed her eyes and thought that perhaps what they had had was only a beautiful moment, but a moment, like breathing through so many storms, nothing more.

But something in his gut told him that it wasn’t just that, that that space didn’t look like him, that there was something more, someone else, and that he wasn’t going to sit idly by. The following days were tough. Claudia went to work with that feeling in her stomach that wasn’t letting her down.

I hated everything, how Leoardo avoided going by, how he no longer asked about Reata, how he went out to the garden, how he sat in the dining room to chat like before. He went back to shutting himself in his office like in the early days, only now it hurt more because I now knew what it was like to have him near, to laugh together, to talk as if there was no difference between their ways.

And now all that was over, or worse, going backwards, Repata felt it too. She no longer played with such emotion, she no longer approached her husband with the same joy. She asked a lot about Leonardo, but her gaze always sought him out as if she expected to see him come out like this, like a drawing in her hand or a question about Flores. Claudia told him that she was busy, that she had a lot of work, but the whole world didn’t know what to say to her.

I couldn’t explain to her that maybe I was becoming invisible again until one day everything came to light. It was Wednesday and the weather was unbearable. It was hot, humid and Claudia’s services didn’t help.

While she was cleaning the window frames, Marta told her that Julieta had been on a roll that night, that she didn’t stay, but they did talk for a long time. Claudia didn’t say anything, she just kept cleaning, but inside she was boiling. Something inside her told her that Julieta had something to do with this change in Leonardo, that she was pressuring him, hurting him, or simply loving everything that was just beginning to happen. That same day, Reпata tripped and scraped his knee.

Nothing serious, but she cried. Claudia ran to help her and while she was sitting on the bed, covering her with water and gauze, Leonardo appeared. It was the first time he came close in days. He crouched down next to them and asked what happened. Repata looked at him as if she hadn’t seen him in weeks. She told him that he had fallen because he hadn’t seen the stone.

He let out a short laugh if he could help it. Claudia looked up and her eyes met. That moment was like a passing moment, one of those that changes everything. No one could say anything, Leonardo remained silent, staring at her. She didn’t look away. She was tired of pretending everything was okay. After a few seconds, he stood up.

“Can you come back a moment after you’re done?” Claudia just nodded. Hours passed with her heart beating faster than usual. At 6, when she finished everything she had to do, she left Reapata with Marta and went to the office. Leonardo was standing there next to her. When she entered, she turned around.

“Claudia, I’m sorry,” he said bluntly. I know I’ve been distant, and I also know it’s not fair. Claudia didn’t say anything. I hope. It hasn’t been easy. It’s hard for me to understand what I’m feeling. It’s hard for me to accept it. And when Julieta tried to stir up trouble, I didn’t know how to react. She made me feel guilty. She told me about Daiela, she made me remember things.

And for a moment I thought I was right, that this was a mistake, that you and I, that this couldn’t be. Claudia pressed her lips together. “And you believe it, Leonardo?” She looked at her straight. “No, I don’t believe it, but I was scared. Because you’re not just anyone. Because you’re different from everything I’ve ever known before. Because you’re not here for free or out of pity, because you have a daughter who made me feel something I thought was lost.

And because you make me want to start over, and that scares me. Claudia felt her eyes water, both with sadness and relief, from everything she had been holding back. “I’m not asking for anything,” she said. “I’m not waiting for you to give me the house, the boy, the life of forever.

I just want clarity, because I have a daughter and I can’t put her in a way that one day she hugs you and the next she closes the door on you.” Leoardo nodded. “You’re right. I don’t want to play with what you see. Neither do you and her.” He approached.

I don’t want to have to hide what I know, and I don’t want you to think that I’m letting Julieta or the past manipulate me. That’s it. Claudia looked at him firmly. So, what are we? Leonardo took a deep breath. I don’t know what to call it, but I do know that I don’t want to lose this. Not even you or Reata. I want to be here no matter what, however I can, but I want to be here. And if nothing else, he leaned closer and kissed her. It wasn’t a soap opera kiss, it was a real kiss.

one of those who are afraid and afraid, with questions, but also with determination. Claudia responded, because she could no longer continue repressing what she had inside, because her heart also had things to say. And in that moment, without witnesses, without music of the floor, the two found themselves like two people who had already lost so much, but still believed they deserved something more. When they separated, Claudia smiled sadly.

I only ask that you let us go at the first storm because we have two hiding places. Leonardo caressed her face. I’m not going to let them go. And then I realized that something had changed forever. There was no turning back. Julieta wasn’t a completely blind woman.

From the moment she first entered the house and saw Leoardo looking at Claudia, she knew something was wrong. At first, she thought it was just a momentary attraction, something physical, a connection. But every time she returned to the house a week later and caught them talking in the garden while the girl played nearby, something inside her broke.

Pride, jealousy, rage, she didn’t know exactly what it was, but she wasn’t going to allow it, and not because she wanted Leonardo, that had been clear for some time, but she knew that this house, this life, this surname belonged to her by emotional inheritance, by history, by status. She couldn’t bear the idea that a woman like Claudia, a domestic servant with a daughter at her expense, could occupy the place that had once been her sister’s.

It seemed shocking, grotesque, unacceptable. So his war began. At first he attacked him with soft words, unexpected visits, coffees with Marta to find out things, loud comments about how the house needed to return to what it was. But when that didn’t work, it went straight to Leoardo’s heart. One afternoon she came into his office without warning.

Leoardo was standing in front of the computer. Julieta sat down, waiting for an invitation. “Can I ask you a question?” “Tell me,” he replied, looking up. “Do you really think what you’re doing is meaningful?” Leoardo looked up, annoyed. “What do you mean? Claudia, the girl? This fantasy you’re creating?” Leoardo took a deep breath. “It’s not a fantasy. Of course it is.”

Do you think you can have a normal life as a woman who works cleaning your house? Do you think that’s going to work? That it’s not going to become a problem. Leoardo closed the laptop. It’s not you, Julieta. Yes it is, because you’re destroying what you destroyed with Daiela.

You’re dragging your memory and I’m not going to stay quiet while you do it. Leoardo stood up annoyed. Daiela isn’t here and you’re not her spokesperson. No, but I’m her sister and unlike you, I’ve erased her from my life. Leoardo looked at her with wide eyes. I haven’t erased her. I lived through hell with her. I was there until my last breath.

And if I’m now eager to move forward, it’s because she asked me to. She told me not to stay alone, not to close myself off from the pain. And you know what, Claudia didn’t come looking for me, she didn’t ask me for anything, she just showed up and made me feel something again that you’re not going to miss, because you only know how to live from a position of control. Julieta tightened her belt.

And you already asked her why her husband died. Have you investigated yet? Do you already know what he was drinking the day of the accident? Or are you also going to turn a blind eye to that, Leoardo Blinked? What are you talking about? That everything is what it seems. That woman has a past and she’s not beautiful. Her husband killed himself drunk and left debts everywhere.

And now you put it in here as if it were a joke. Have you thought about the scandal when this comes out? Because I assure you it will. The press is sleeping and pissing me off when it comes to a businessman like you. Leoardo didn’t respond. He stayed still. Something in his look changed.

Not because he believed everything Julieta said, but because he knew she was capable of doing that to Claudia, and that upset him. You went too far. No, Leonardo. You went too far, thinking this was going to end well. You’re not in the soap opera, you’re in the real world. And in that world, differences don’t matter, whether you like it or not. Julieta got up and left the office without waiting for a reply.

Leoardo was left standing alone, with his hands resting on the desk and his body stiff. He didn’t know whether to scream, run away, or simply sit down to breathe. The idea that Claudia had hidden something about her husband hurt him, but what hurt more was knowing that Julieta was willing to screw him over to get away with it. That night Leoardo didn’t sleep.

The next day, Claudia arrived as usual, said goodbye to José, went into the kitchen, left her things, arranged Reata with her pencils, everything the same, until Marta told her that the boss wanted to talk to her privately. Claudia went into the office with her heart racing.

When they walked in, Leoardo was serious, arms crossed. “What happened?” she asked, throwing away the tension. Leoardo looked at her straight. “I need you to tell me the truth. Your husband died in an accident or was drunk.” Claudia was in shock. She felt her heart sink. She didn’t know how he knew that, or why he was asking him so hard.

All she could manage was to say, “What did he say that to you? Julieta.” Claudia looked down, swallowed. “Yes, it’s true. He was drunk, but that doesn’t change everything. Why did you tell me?” Because I didn’t want you to judge me. Because that was the time we argued. He left angry, grabbed some friends, and then came back. And since it wasn’t my fault, I always felt responsible.

But that doesn’t define who I am, how I raise my daughter, what I feel for you. Leoardo remained silent. Claudia felt the floor move under her. If this changes what you think of me, tell me now. Leoardo made way for the front. It doesn’t change what I feel, but it does hurt me that you’d trust me to tell it to me. It’s not easy to talk about it, Leoardo.

It’s not something you just let go of. Though I knew it didn’t matter, that what we were now was stronger than the past. He looked at her with blank eyes. It is, but I need you to trust me because this is just starting and Julieta isn’t going to stop. I’m not going to hide, Claudia said firmly. Leoardo nodded. And I’m not going to let him attack you, but we need to stay together.

That day Leoardo made his decision, he called his lawyer and ordered that Julieta could not enter the house without permission. Claudia could not believe it. It was the first time that someone had defended her like that, not out of pity, but out of force, with determination. But she knew that Julieta was not going to stay there and what would happen next would be even worse. After the fight with Julieta and the heated conversation with Leoardo, Claudia felt that something in the house had moved, not just in the environment, but between the two of them.

It was as if the invisible barrier had been removed. He no longer spoke from fear or doubt. Now he knew where they stood, that everyone else knew, and that made them closer, more attentive, more sincere, but also more discreet. Leonardo was clear. He didn’t want Julieta to use her intimidation as a weapon. Claudia understood that perfectly.

It wasn’t that I had to hide because what I was living was wrong, but because it was fragile, it was real, but still vulnerable, like a little piece of silver that is just beginning to take root and needs time before it can withstand the wind. So I didn’t say much to others, I didn’t touch it, I didn’t look for it with my hands, but with my eyes.

He laughed at her looks, at the small details that only they understood. Every time Leoardo left the office and offered her a coffee without reason, every time Claudia left her napkin with a smile on her face, every time Renata fell asleep in the chair and he covered her without saying anything, all of this was part of that silent love that grew without permission.

One afternoon, Claudia was collecting the sheets from the guest room and found a small box on the bed. It was a small, white, cardboard box. She carefully opened it and inside she found a simple necklace made of black thread with a small silver star pendant, attached to the box, a folded piece of paper so that you don’t forget that in this house you also shine.

It wasn’t signed, but it wasn’t needed. Claudia clutched it to her chest and sat for a moment on the edge of the bed. It wasn’t the value of the gift that moved her, but the gesture, the emotion, feeling seen, feeling chosen. After years of living as a shadow, of going unnoticed, of only worrying about surviving, that was too much. But she wasn’t scared.

He hung it around his neck, adjusted it with a smile, and returned to work with a lighter heart. The weeks passed and the changes became part of his routine. Leonardo looked for any excuse to stay home longer. He changed meetings to the afternoon so he could have breakfast with them. He invited Reata to read quotations in his office.

He asked Claudia if she wanted to try the egg wine he had given her. They shared lunches on the terrace, walks in the garden, and even jokes that were just the two of them this day. One evening, when Marta had already left and José was closing the gate, Claudia finished her day and went to look for Repata.

The girl had fallen asleep again on the couch with her pencils in her hand and her feet dangling. Leoardo was sitting next to her, looking at her like a fool who was trying to hide. Claudia came in slowly and sat back. Leoardo smiled. Today she explained to me why trees die every time it gets cold. According to her, they tell secrets that we humans can’t hear.

“You have a good imagination,” Claudia replied, sitting next to him. “She got it from someone,” he said, looking directly at her. He remained like that for a few minutes in silence, no need to say anything more. Claudia rested her head on his shoulder and he took her hand. No one could see them, no one had any reason to know.

But in that river, far from the river, the three of them formed something that could no longer be separated. At a different time, Leoardo asked her if she wanted to go out with him. Not to eat, to be elegant, to remain elegant, just to walk around the city like two normal people. Claudia refused, not out of fear, but because she didn’t know how to cope with that situation, but she accepted. They left Reпata with Marta, who offered to take care of her and left without telling anyone.

They walked through the center park, had a coffee at the corner place and sat down with each other as if they were any couple. They talked about everything, about their disappointments, their losses, their fears.

Claudia told him that as a child she wanted to be a teacher, that she always liked teaching things, that life didn’t leave her time to study. Leonardo told her that sometimes he hated his job, that he only did it because he was taught that success was the only thing that mattered. That night she wasn’t the boss and the employee. They were two people tired of the grind who were eager to start over. When they returned home, Reata was already asleep. Claudia tucked her in, kissed her on the forehead, and then went downstairs to say goodbye to Leonardo.

He walked her to the service door as always, but this time he stopped her before she left. “Can I ask you a question?” Sure. What would happen if one day you didn’t have to leave through this door? Claudia looked at him strangely at first. Then she felt her heart skip a beat. “What do you mean?” Leoardo came closer.

That sometimes I think about that, that we don’t have to hide who we are, that this is your house, Reata’s, the other one. But I don’t want to rush you, I just want you to know that I do think it. Claudia didn’t respond, she hugged him tightly, without words, because sometimes hugs are more sincere answers than any phrase.

But she also knew that she couldn’t claim victory yet because Julieta was still surrounded, even if she hadn’t entered the house. Because the past isn’t erased from one day to the next, because she had moved beyond this day of simple love, and because inside her there were still broken parts that weren’t easily healed. So that night, while she was sleeping with the star pendant hanging from her neck, she knew that she wasn’t alone, that someone saw her, that someone was betting on her and that for the first time in a long time her story wasn’t just about love, it was also about love. Claudia had been feeling strange for days. At first she thought it was just the case, that she was

He slept little or the heat was affecting him more than usual. He felt dizzy when he woke up, as if the wheel was spinning a little faster. Some water, some bread, some sugar would go away, but it would come back. There were also times when he felt sick from smells that were coming out of him.

The softener, the chlorine, even the coffee. Her head was starting to hurt, though. And as she tried to think about it, she knew what her body was telling her. One morning, while she was collecting Repata’s eggs in the garden, she bent down and felt and pulled at her stomach. Nothing serious, but enough to make her sit down for a moment.

Leoardo came out right away from that place and saw her. “Are you okay?” he asked, approaching. “Yes, I just felt a little dizzy,” she said, thinking it wasn’t her. Leoardo offered her water. He sat down next to her and stroked her back. She tried to smile, to pretend, that she didn’t want to worry or pressure him, but while she was drinking the water, the pain came back with force, and yes, I am pregnant, I hadn’t planned it.

She hadn’t noticed the dates or the signs, she didn’t believe something like this could happen amidst everything she was going through. But now with all these symptoms, she couldn’t continue to suffer, she couldn’t let it go. That night she stayed awake at home for a long time. Repata slept quietly as always, cuddling her stuffed animal. Claudia was sitting on the edge of the bed with her hands in her lap, staring at the ceiling.

She wondered what all that would mean, not just for her, for Leonardo, for her daughter, for the story she was just beginning to write. What if he got angry, what if he thought she’d done it on purpose, what if he thought it was a trap. She didn’t know how to tell him. She wasn’t even sure yet. But the fear was already there, settled in her chest, strong as stone.

The next morning, before going to work, he went to the pharmacy. He bought a test strip to look at anyone, kept it in his bag as if it were a dangerous secret. That night, when he returned, he waited for Repata to fall asleep and went into the bathroom. His heart was beating as if it were about to jump out. He sat, breathed deeply, followed the instructions, waited for the exact same number, two lines.

Claudia didn’t know whether to cry or laugh, she just sat on the edge of the bathtub as proof in complete silence. The two lines were clear, marked, and even. She was pregnant again, in the middle of everything, in the middle of that love that still walked on eggshells.

Three days passed before she could speak to Leoardo. She couldn’t stand the moment. Every time she saw him, her hands shook. She didn’t want the news to ruin what she felt, but she knew keeping quiet would be worse. He knew something was up.

He looked at her with those eyes that knew her by heart, with that way of reading her without saying a word, until he couldn’t do more. One afternoon, after lunch, she called him in a low voice. You’re mine. Always, he said with a soft smile. Off to the study. Claudia closed the door and stood with her hands tied. Leoardo looked at her, worried. Are you okay? Claudia nodded, but her eyes were already filling with tears.

I have something to tell you and I don’t know how you’re going to react, but I need to be honest. Leoardo frowned. Serious. Tell me. Claudia swallowed. I’m pregnant. Silence. I took the test twice. And yes, I’m expecting a baby. Leoardo said for several seconds, just staring at her, not moving. And are you sure? Yes. Another silence. Since when have you known? For days. But I didn’t dare tell you.

I was afraid you’d think badly of me, that you’d think it was on purpose or that I was looking for something from you. Leonardo approached slowly. He took her hands. Do you think I’d think that about you? Claudia looked down. I don’t know. Everything is so recent. And Julieta surrounded and the house and Reapata. I don’t want this to take us off the path, but I also can’t pretend it’s not over.

Leonardo hugged her tightly, without saying anything. Then he stroked her hair and spoke in her ear. You’re not alone. This is mine too, and I’m not going to leave. Claudia cried in silence, with relief, with fear, with everything. He pulled away a little to look into her eyes. Have you been to the doctor yet? No, not yet. Let’s go tomorrow. I want to be there. She nodded, still trembling.

What if? What if you’re not ready for this, Leoardo dreamed. I was never ready for you and here I am. I’m not afraid of being a dad again. I’m afraid that you don’t trust me and that I want to do it with you. Claudia hugged him again and for the first time she felt that the world was on top of them, she didn’t have to face it alone anymore. What she didn’t know was that she didn’t see him, she saw two. But she would find out very soon.

Ever since Claudia confessed to Leoardo that she was pregnant, something changed between them. Not for the worse, on the contrary, everything became more real, more serious, more intimate. It was no longer just a story of glances and hidden affection. Now there was life growing between them. Or so she thought, because she still didn’t know that destiny had an even bigger surprise in store for them.

Leonardo insisted on accompanying her to the doctor. Claudia, at first, didn’t want to. She felt strange, volatile, afraid of being judged in a private office where she perhaps wasn’t used to going. But he was clear: I’m going because I want to, or because I have to. So she accepted. She asked for the day off from home.

Marta was left in charge of Repata and José took them to the consulting room in Leoardo’s apartment. It was a beautiful, clean, modern place, a small but elegant classic. Claudia was sitting outside in her simple clothes and old bag, but Leoardo grabbed her hand and didn’t let go. The doctor, a kind woman with care and tattoos, treated them with a sincere smile.

Claudia explained her symptoms, the tests she’d taken, and her approximate pregnancy. The doctor supervised her and took a prescription. “We’re going to do a sound to check that everything is okay,” she said calmly. Claudia lay down nervously. Leoardo stayed by her side, holding her hand.

When the machine was released and the doctor began to move the device over her abdomen, everything remained silent. A long, tense silence. “Is everything okay?” asked Leoardo. The doctor smiled as if she were in surprise. Yes, it’s very well. In fact, it’s very well. Claudia frowned. “How are you, Claudia?” said the doctor, pointing at the screen. “There are two gestational sacs here. You’re expecting twins.” The mode stopped.

Claudia stared at the screen as if she couldn’t understand what she was seeing. Two. No, nothing. Two hearts beating. Two lives. Leonardo’s eyes widened, then he laughed, a nervous, incredulous, but happy laugh. “Are you sure?” Claudia asked in a trembling voice, completely sure. He had twins and he looked sick. Claudia didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Her throat was closed, her hands were cold, her chest was full of emotions. Leoardo bent down and kissed her forehead. “We’re going to be fine,” he said, before letting go of her hand. “This is a blessing, not a problem.” They left the bathroom with their heads in turmoil.

Leonardo hugged her tightly in the parking lot and told her that now more than ever she was going to be with them, that there was no turning back, that this was her destiny. And although Claudia was still in shock, part of her was preparing herself because she knew this secret couldn’t last a long time, and it didn’t. A few days later, Julieta returned home.

She didn’t come in, of course, but she sent a message, one of those cold, direct, emotionless messages. I want to talk to you. If it’s here, it’ll be your office. I’m not going to disappear. Leonardo didn’t reply, but he knew she wasn’t going to say anything. It wasn’t his style, so he decided to go ahead. That same night, standing in the garden, he said to Claudia, “I don’t want to hide it. If someone needs to know, I’d rather they know it from me.”

Claudia remained thoughtful, not because she doubted him, but because she feared what it would provoke. But there was no time to hide. He was growing in his belly, his life, his story. Marta was the first to let him out. One morning, while Claudia was gathering the towels, her eyebrow was raised. “And that sleepy little face?” she asked with a mischievous smile.

Claudia just laughed. Marta approached her and put her hand on her shoulder. That’s what I think. Claudia nodded softly. Yes, but don’t say anything yet, please. Marta hugged her lovingly, like Mom. Don’t worry, I’m with you. But everyone was not going to react the same.

That same day, someone took a photo from outside. A black car parked in front of the gate, a long shot, a click. Claudia got out of Leoardo’s car with her hand in the corner. He got out afterward and opened the door for her. A picture. That was enough. The photo reached Julieta via WhatsApp with a message. You saw this, it’s getting out of hand. Julieta exploded. She didn’t wait any longer. She went straight to Leoardo’s office.

She came in to make an appointment, to get along, to have respect. What’s wrong with you? he yelled at her. You don’t care anymore. Are you going to risk your man, your company, all because of a pregnant maid? Leoardo looked at her calmly, but firmly. Julieta, you don’t have to explain yourself and don’t call her that again. So, is it true? Yes, she’s pregnant and she has twins.

Julieta let out a mocking laugh. Perfect. What a cop-out. Two more mouths than you think. You already gave her a house, a car, a bowl of beer. Leoardo interrupted her. I’m going to tell you again and again. You no longer have any power here. This is my life and if you don’t like it you can walk away. Julieta looked at him angrily. Do you think this is going to stay like this? Do you think no one is going to talk? Let him say what he wants.

I’m going to answer for my children, for the woman I love. And you, you’re just left like a bitter woman who can’t let go of the past. Julieta came out furious, but she no longer had control. History was taking the path she could have borne.

And while all this was happening, Repata continued to draw herself in the garden, unaware that her family was growing. Claudia was already starting to wear looser clothes. Leoardo, whenever he could, would come over to touch her face, to ask if she had eaten, if she was married, if she needed anything. One night, while she was washing the dishes in the kitchen, Leoardo whispered in her ear. We’re going to be okay, Chloe.

I don’t care what he says, I only care about you and these two little ones who are coming. Claudia closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and for the first time, she completely believed it. The news of the pregnancy was no longer a secret, and the house began to feel the change. Marta now cooked more lightly, prepared mother’s teas, and kept an extra eye on Claudia until she told her it wasn’t necessary.

José would open the car door for her, more cautiously, and even the gardeners would lower their voices whenever she passed by, as if they knew something important was growing inside. Claudia noticed, of course, but she didn’t say anything. She gave him little thought for changing her. But the food also felt good to her. For the first time, she felt cared for. Leoardo was different, also weaker, more affectionate, more present.

He would show up every now and then with something, some game, some fruit, some pillow to make her more comfortable. Every day he would speak softly to the baby, as if the babies could already hear him. He would say things like, “Daddy’s here, or whenever I get out I’m going to teach you how to fly kites.”

Claudia watched him from the couch, saying nothing, with one hand on his belly and the other on his chest. Feeling like his own body was getting worse, even if he had to ask for permission. But with all that, she also saw the fears. The nights seemed long. Sometimes Claudia would get up to go to the bathroom and then she could no longer go back to sleep.

She sat in bed, caressing her palms, thinking about the future. What if everything went wrong, what if Leoardo changed his mind, what if she wasn’t ready to be a mother again. But doubly so, one of those times he found her crying. Leoardo had gone down to get some water and saw her there, sitting on the terrace, with his hand on her shoulders and her shining eyes. “Everything okay?” he asked, approaching.

Claudia wiped her tears with her hand. Yes, I do, I know. He sat beside her without saying anything. He just waited. I’m scared, Leo. I don’t know if I can do this. I’ve already experienced the fear of raising a child alone. I’ve already lost someone once, and I don’t know, I don’t know if I’d hate to lose everything again. Leo took her hand with strength. You’re not alone.

I’m not leaving. You say it now, but life changes and you have things that I don’t know. I don’t want you to wake up one day and say this was a mistake. Do you think this is a mistake? he asked, touching her face carefully. No, but I don’t know if you do. Leoardo stood up, made her stand up, and hugged her.

Go away, strong. I don’t know a lot of things, Chloe, but I know that since you arrived this house has a soul again and that if you let me, I want to be the one there every day, as a boss, as a savior, as a man, as a partner, as a dad. She looked at him with a broken and hopeful look. Do you really think you could live with me, with Repata, with the babies, with the clothes drying in the bathroom and the toys on the floor? Yes, he answered without thinking about it.

It’s what I want. And then the unexpected happened. Leoardo took a small box out of his pocket. It wasn’t a ring of giant diamonds or a jewel from a magazine. It was a simple matte gold ring, yes, stone. He opened it and showed it to her. She knelt down, she adored us. I don’t need to wait for it to arrive or for everything to be perfect.

I just want to ask you if you want to share your life with me, with your good days and your bad days, with your stories and your silences, yes false promises, but with real tears. Claudia couldn’t speak, her tears came out on their own, not from sadness, but from those things that happen every time life finally gets on the right side. Yes, she said with a broken voice. Yes I do.

Leonardo put the ring on her finger, then hugged her and kissed her with the calm of someone who was no longer in a hurry. There was no music, no applause, no laughter. Just the two of them in the middle of the night with the wind moving the garden plants and her as a witness. The next day, Claudia arrived with swollen eyes, but with a smile that could not be erased.

Marta hugged her tightly when she found out. José patted her shoulder with a mixture of shyness and pride. And Repata. Repata shouted in the kitchen. We’re going to be a family again. Everyone laughed. Even Marta, who had been in that house for so long, already seemed like part of the family too. Claudia felt different, not because of her ring, but because of what it represented.

For the first time, he knew he had a place, not out of obligation, not out of necessity, not because someone opened the door out of pity. It was a place, won with love, with patience, with truth. That afternoon, the three of them went out into the garden. Leonardo carried Reata on his shoulders, making her fly like an airplane. Claudia walked behind him, laughing, holding her hands on her shoulder, which was already beginning to get more agitated.

No one had taken any important photos or witnesses, but it was just a moment, a simple one, a real one. And for now, that was more than enough. Julieta didn’t reappear in weeks. After that fight at Leonardo’s office, it seemed she’d accepted her defeat. She didn’t call, she didn’t write, she didn’t show up at the house again. For anyone, that would have been a sign that she’d received the message.

But Claudia didn’t trust that silence. She knew what a threat without words was. She had experienced it in other times. And that forced calm wasn’t peace, it was strategy and reason. What Julieta was doing was moving underneath, where it was visible. She had contacted the lawyer, who knew the family history well.

He’d also gone to one of those gossip magazines that publishes scandals with blurry photos and red headlines. He offered them an exclusive. The millionaire who left everything for the maid. But the reporters wanted more than just an old story. They wanted proof, names, documents, something that would make them look like the first to uncover the drama. So Julieta promised them something better, a storm.

And while all this was brewing, Claudia and Leonardo lived peacefully for days. They planned the future without rushing, but they didn’t. She already knew that she was seeing male twins. And Reata was happy because she said she was going to be the responsible older sister. Marta knitted booties and bibs in her free time. José, who talked a lot, began to leave sweets in Claudia’s bag like someone leaving discreet offers.

They were all part of something beautiful, something that already seemed like a real family, until the letter arrived. It wasn’t from the bank, it wasn’t from the company, it was from Julieta’s lawyer. Leoardo received it in the morning, opened it with a cold brow, and read the first paragraph without reacting.

Claudia was sweeping the dining room when she saw him enter with a pale face. The letter was hers, handed to her without saying a word. She read it slowly. Her stomach tightened with each word. Julieta had started too much. She wanted to enforce the inheritance that her sister had left in Leonardo’s name, arguing that he was in a serious relationship that affected her judgment, could put the family assets at risk, and stained the name of his late wife. Cold, legal words, sharp as knives.

And not only that, the letter said that if Leoardo did not move away from Claudia and her daughter, Julieta would make public all the noticeable information she had gathered, Claudia’s husband’s past, her financial problems, the deaths, even the old lady who was so bitter she could remember.

It was a direct attack, against Leoardo, against her, against her history, against her dignity. Claudia dropped the card on the table. “This is crazy. This is war,” Leoardo said, his hand tightening. “But I’m not going to back down. She’s ready to destroy you, Leo, and I’m ready to protect you.” But Claudia wasn’t so sure.

I knew what public shaming was. I’d seen it in other families, in other lives. I knew that people don’t forgive women who go too far. There was always someone who said, “That’s love, that’s caring.” And now, with two children on the way, the gossip was going to be even worse.

That night Claudia didn’t sleep. She sat on the bed with her hand on her belly, caressing it despite herself, as if she could calm her children before the world ended. She weighed leaving, moving away, not out of cowardice, but to protect Reata, the babies, Leoardo. But she also weighed everything she had already endured.

Was I going to let Julieta take away what I had built? No, the next morning I spoke to Leoardo. I’m not going to hide, but I’m not going to let him say anything about me if I have to defend myself. Leoardo agreed. I’ve already made my decision. What? We’re going to make the relationship public. Not in magazines, on my social networks. A single photo, a single sentence, so that I don’t have to give you permission and so that he knows that I’m not ashamed of anything.

Claudia looked at him with doubtful eyes. Are you sure? More than just a question. That afternoon they discovered the photo. It was simple. The two of them sitting in the garden, holding hands, a conversation between them. No long text, just a sentence, the family I chose, the life I want. And the hype exploded. The comments were divided. Some congratulated them, others criticized.

How beautiful, how low he’s fallen. She must have bewitched him. He looks happy. She’s smart. He’s crazy. But Leonardo didn’t answer anything, he just turned off his cell phone and sat down with Claudia to watch the movie she’d been wanting to see for weeks. They didn’t let the noise affect them, at least for the sake of it.

But Julieta didn’t stay silent. Hours after the publication, documents were leaked: photos of Claudia’s husband’s accident, old receipts, articles from the local newspaper that talked about the crash. Nothing illegal, but painful. Information that Claudia didn’t want to remember, her life revealed without permission. When Leoardo found out, he went to look for her in the closet.

She sat on the bed in silence, staring into space. “Did you see it?” he asked bluntly. “Yes. I feel it.” Claudia looked at him. “You didn’t do it, but you can’t help it. You’re not God, Leo. You can’t stop what others do. You can only choose how to react.” He sat beside her and took her hand.

And how do you want to react? Claudia breathed deeply, lived, loved, raised my children with you. I won’t give her the pleasure of seeing me defeated. Leonardo hugged her with treacherous strength. One of those who doesn’t make empty promises, but who sustains the soul. In the days that followed, Julieta did more things, legal subpoenas, threats, false statements, but something changed. Leoпardo coпhired a different lawyer, who knew how to play the same game, but with more class.

He responded to everything with proof, with respect, with firmness, without praise, without falling in the mud. And the audience began to turn around. The networks changed everything. It seems that they love each other, not laugh. What courage. The twins are going to be lucky. What at first was a scandal. It began to become a love story, a real, imperfect, human story.

Julieta was left alone with her anger, her allies, her support, but she still wasn’t the final. And although Claudia knew it, she also knew that she was no longer the same woman who had started all this with fear. Now she was someone else. She was a mother, she was about to be one again, and she had someone by her side who had left when things got ugly. And that was already a victory.

The situation was no longer hallway gossip. It had become a public fight. Claudia felt it in every glance from strangers, in the sniffles on the street, in the comments some people dared to write on social media as if they had the right to judge other people’s lives.

There were days when she went out with a cap, with her hair out, as if hiding would help the world not point her out, but it didn’t work. Every time the story becomes public, everyone believes they’re part of it. Leonardo tried to protect her. He said it would all blow over, that people would get married and start another scandal. But Claudia wasn’t ignorant. She knew it wasn’t enough to ignore.

The story that Julieta was being told out there was dangerous. She was saying that the twins weren’t Leoardo’s, that Claudia had taken advantage of her grief to get him into the relationship, that she was pregnant with someone else’s child and was only looking to ensure a comfortable life. She repeated it in meetings, in phone calls, in interviews that weren’t official, but it still spread like wildfire and, no matter how absurd it seemed, it stuck.

One afternoon, while Claudia was hanging clothes in the backyard, Marta came in with her cell phone, her hand on her hand and serious face. Claudia, you have to see this. It was a radio clip. Julieta was talking to a reporter. Leonardo is blind. That woman had him blind from day one, and now she says the children are hers. But I have my doubts. Let him take a test, right? That way we can get out of trouble.

Claudia closed her eyes. The air felt heavy in her chest. Marta looked at her worriedly. Do you want me to tell Leoardo? No, I’ll do it. That night she waited for Repata to fall asleep. She went down to the office where Leoardo was working on the papers. She knocked on the door. “Can I come in?” “Sure,” he said, looking up. Claudia became calm, but determined. She sat down next to him.

Julieta is saying that babies aren’t just you. Leoardo sighed. I know. And he doesn’t plan to stop. No, then let’s take the test. Leoardo frowned. What? A paternity test. Official, legal, what’s left to do. Leoardo stared at her. Claudia held his gaze.

Not because I have anything to prove, but because she’s not going to stop making things worse. And I’m not going to live with that shadow behind me. Leonardo stood up and walked toward the street. He waited for a moment, then turned around. If it gives you peace, we’ll do it, but not because I have doubts. I know it and I appreciate it. He came closer and took her hands.

And if Julieta doesn’t keep quiet after that, I’m going to take legal action. It’s not just going to be a scandal, it’s going to be too much for defamation. Claudia nodded. It wasn’t just about protecting herself anymore, it was about protecting those she saw on the way, her family. The following days passed more slowly. The pregnancy was progressing. Claudia could no longer work as she had done before. She walked slowly, rested more often. Marta helped her with everything.

José bought their groceries. Leoardo took her to every doctor’s appointment. Repata spoke to the babies as if she was already listening. She read them quotations, told them stories she had heard at the time, and told them stories about what the house was like before they arrived.

One day, while Claudia slept on the sofa with a pillow between her legs, Leonardo stared at her for a long time. He thought about everything that had happened, how quickly and slowly everything had happened, how his life had changed without looking for it. He approached and caressed her face. “Thank you,” he said in a low voice, knowing that she couldn’t hear him. The weeks went on. Claudia’s body began to warn that the moment was approaching.

Mild pain, false contractions. The pain was already enormous, sleeping was difficult, walking was a complicated task, but she didn’t complain, she just wanted everything to go well. And then, the dawn broke. It was Leoardo who took her to the hospital. José died. Marta stayed home. Everything was fast, but chaotic.

They received her immediately. She was nervous, even though it was cold. Leoardo only let her go for a second. Hours later, the twins appeared, two children. Both were crying, perfect. Claudia cried if she could touch herself. Leoardo did too. They gave them names and I saw them. Emilia and Mateo, one with straight hair, the other with tousled hair, both with their hands closed as if they had already fought with each other. The nurse brought them the papers.

The option of taking a paternity test came up. Leoardo signed the form, not out of necessity, but as a strategy. He wanted to silence corrupt mouths. The days at the hospital were a learning experience. Claudia breastfed them both as best she could. Leoardo changed them, put them to sleep, talked to them. Repata arrived on the third day.

When she saw them, she fell silent. Then she said, “They looked fragile, like plasticine.” Everyone laughed. The test took several days. When the result arrived, Leoardo opened it in front of Claudia. The envelope was thick and official; he read it in a low voice, then smiled. He passed it to her. Claudia read it. Probability of paternity, 99.99%. Nothing more was needed. Leoardo kissed her on the forehead. Now that she speaks, whoever she wants.

Claudia took a deep breath. The truth was stronger than any gossip. But even though the battle was over, the war wasn’t over yet. Julieta wasn’t going to stay quiet, and they were already ready for whatever came next. It had only been a few days since Claudia and the twins left the hospital, but it all seemed like a lifetime ago.

The house wasn’t the same anymore. The long silences of the past were now filled with the cries of Emilia and Mateo, with the laughter of Reata running around excitedly, with the hurried steps of Marta, who came and went with bottles, breast milk, or diapers. Even José, who always stayed on the sidelines, came in to leave fresh fruit and peeked in case anything was needed.

Everyone was part of that stage. Leoardo didn’t detach himself, not as a man who does favors, but as a dad who was really there. He slept little, learned to carry the babies without making them cry, got up in the early hours to help, and whenever he could, he threw himself on the couch to watch cartoons while the children slept.

There were no speeches or promises, just facts. Claudia saw him and couldn’t help but get emotional. No one had taught her how to be a father to a child, she was just doing it. The ring on her finger already felt like a part of her. It didn’t shine like the ones in novels, but it had a beautiful weight, like a symbol, like something that didn’t need witnesses to be true.

They weren’t married yet, but they both knew it was a done deal. They would talk it over calmly, without rushing. Now everything revolved around the babies, the adjustment, that new pace of life that grabs you suddenly and doesn’t leave you feeling too sad. And in the midst of all that, that day arrived, the one that no one plans, the one that changes everything without warning.

It was Sunday, sunny, clear, and the air was fresh. Claudia woke up early to Mateo’s crying. Leoardo was already holding Emiliaó in the baby room, making little sounds with his mouth to calm him down. Repata was sleeping in her bed, with her feet in the air and her socks on backward. Everything was normal until the doorbell rang.

It wasn’t common for someone to knock on the front door so early on Sunday. Marta peeked through the kitchen door and saw a well-dressed man with a folder in his hand and a serious expression. Claudia came down with the babies in her arms and stayed on the stairs when she saw him. Leoardo recognized him.

He was a reporter, or just anyone, one of those who had always tried to maintain his image, formal, polite, but direct. The same one who had tried to get an exclusive interview with him some time ago, Leonardo came out. “What are you doing here? I need to talk to you. I don’t have cameras, just this,” he said, holding up the folder. Julieta looked me up. She offered me information, evidence, documents.

She wants to make a strong publicity. She says you’re going to regret it. Leoardo pressed his lips together. Claudia watched him from the sidelines, still not moving. And you came to warn me, though. I came to tell you that I’m not going to publish anything because I realized something. Leoardo frowned. What? The reporter came closer. That everything she gave me was a mistake.

It’s not true, it’s not justice, it’s shame. And I don’t want to be part of that, but I do want you to know that he’s going to look for someone else and that he’s going to stay without scruples. Leonardo nodded. Seriously. Thanks for seeing. The man gave him the folder. Here’s everything he gave me so you know what level he’s trying to get to. It’s gone.

Leonardo slammed the door shut, took a deep breath, and went back inside. Claudia was already standing in the living room with the baby in her arms. What was that? He picked up the folder. Julieta, again. She sat down in the living room, looking through everything: letters, copies of documents, copied statements, emails taken out of context.

It was a planned, cold-blooded attack, one that if made public could cause a scandal to happen again. Claudia remained silent. “What do we do now?” asked Leoardo. He looked at her seriously, but calmly. “I know what I have to do.” That same night he wrote a comic, not on social media, not a scandal, a simple, direct, firm letter, where he shared his version, yes, attacking, yes, fighting, he only spoke as a man who decided to remake his life and who was proud of the woman he was doing it with. He sent it to the media, published it on his personal website and then turned off his cell phone. Claudia hugged him.

She didn’t need to say anything. The next morning, Julieta’s email exploded. She was inundated with criticism, harsh messages, questions she didn’t know how to respond to. She was left alone with her rage, seeing how her idea of ​​destroying them had backfired. For the first time, she saw herself reflected in the mirror of what reality was, a bitter woman who couldn’t let go of control.

And the people were already listening to her. But the worst part happened at home. That same afternoon, Repata ran into the nursery with the paper flowers Marta had made. She gave them to Claudia with a huge smile. “Just for you and my little brothers,” she said. “Because this is the best house in the world.” Claudia hugged her tightly. Leoardo stood by the door, looking silently.

When Repata left, he approached, stood up to her, and took the little box out of the drawer. Now, Chlo, I want to do it right. Not because we have to, but because I want you to tell me that you should give everyone away, your children, mine, Repata, this house. She looked at him in surprise.

The box had a little bit of ice, more beautiful, but just as real as the first one. Do you want to marry me? Claudia put her hands to her face and, between laughter and tears, said what she had been saying for a long time. Yes, of course. There was no party or music yet, but the news spread through the house faster than anything else.

Marta cried in silence. José smiled more than ever. Repata turned around shouting, “My mom is going to marry Leo.” And that day, with three flashes of lightning, with cameras, with eyes, was the day that changed everything. The house was quiet that morning, with a different silence, softer, as if it were breathing a sigh of relief. The three children slept in the other room.

Repata hugged her little brothers Emilia and Mateo, wrapped in their little mothers. Claudia, just awake, looked at them with bated breath, feeling something in her chest that made her tremble, deep love and peace. Leoardo entered the room worried, holding his cup of tea. He sat next to her without her letting him.

At first, he ran a hand over her shoulder, and she turned to look at him. He smiled at her, his eyes watery with such affection. “Today is going to be an important day,” he whispered. Claudia raised a curious eyebrow. “Yes.” He nodded, showed her the cup, maize tea with a touch of honey. Marta says it helps calm everything.

She smiled and took a sip. She closed her eyes quietly. “Thank you.” She remained silent. She didn’t speak at all. There was no need to. A few minutes later they went down to the foyer of the house. It wasn’t noisy, just soft footsteps. They opened the front door and outside, the reporter who had previously rejected the gossip was waiting for them.

This time he saw another man, a friendly photographer carrying a discreet camera. Good morning, the reporter said. I’m here on commission, but would you mind if I took some pictures for your story, to see how things are going? Claudia looked at him in surprise. Leonardo put his hand behind her and smiled warmly at her. Of course, he replied. Go ahead. The photographer left them alone out of respect.

Then something incredible happened. Repata ran down with the babies in her arms, or rather, leaning on them, on the swing. She stopped, looked at them and shouted, “Look, this is how you protect yourself, brothers!” And she left them in Claudia’s arms. Emiliaó clung to her breast. Mateo closed his eyes. Repata hugged them as if she already knew they would be her responsibility forever.

The reporter photographed everything. Leoardo wrapped his arms around them and kissed them on the head. It was a brief moment, sigh, sigh, just the single, complete family. The reporter took off his glasses. Thank you. This speaks for itself. It came out even more. I never published those photos in the tabloids.

They reached the local media that shared them with clear text, no judgments, just the truth. It’s not a scandalous story, it’s a story of homes built with love. These children, this family, are now real. From then on, everything changed. People stopped talking about the past and began to admire the present. Calls, messages, gestures of support came from everywhere. Neighbors, acquaintances, even people just passing by on the street.

And at home, that afternoon, while the three children slept and the sun shone through the living room windows, Claudia and Leonardo remained silent, looking at each other. “This, all of this, is more than I dreamed I saw alone with my daughter,” she said with a trembling voice. “For me, it’s not a dream, it’s reality,” he replied with gentle firmness. They hugged. There was no music or fireworks, but the air changed.

It was soft, warm, quiet, and it’s true. That night Repata watched them from her bed and said, “Mommy, Daddy, we’ll be able to be together forever.” Claudia kissed her. “Yes, my love, forever.” Leoardo leaned in close and added, “We’re a complete family, no matter what anyone says outside.” And so, between smiles and tears, between laughter that seemed to be effort, between glances that were no longer hidden, the story closed, not as a drama, not as a soap opera finale, but with the treacherous force of those who already know that true love does not need applause to exist.