
Just because his wife was pregnant with a girl, while his mistress was expecting a boy, he went on a trip with the mistress and her family, leaving his wife alone at home, about to give birth.
But the day he returned… he was SHOCKED, unable to believe what he saw…
In a small neighborhood in Xalapa, Veracruz, lived Mariana Cruz and her husband Julián Herrera, a couple who seemed to have it all: a modest house with terracotta-colored walls, a hammock hanging in the patio, and a garden full of bougainvillea. Mariana worked as an accountant at a local hardware store, while Julián was a supervisor for a construction company in Coatzacoalcos.
They had been married for three years and were eagerly awaiting the arrival of their first baby. But that happiness began to crumble when Julián started coming home late from work, always with his cell phone face down and smelling of perfume that wasn’t Mariana’s.
One day, while folding the freshly washed clothes, Mariana inadvertently overheard a call that Julián forgot to hang up:
—“I promise you that after the trip, everything will be official. Nobody is going to stop my son from being born with me.”
A young woman’s voice replied,
“Then tell your wife to stop insisting. My family is expecting you this weekend in Cancun.”
Mariana’s world crumbled. That woman was Camila Ríos, a newly hired secretary at the company, ten years younger than her… and pregnant.
When Mariana asked him for an explanation, Julián didn’t even pretend to be guilty.
“Camila is going to give me a son, Mariana. You… only a daughter.”
“So what?” she asked through tears.
“It changes everything. In my family, the firstborn son inherits the business. You can stay here… until the baby is born.”
Mariana remained silent, caressing her belly as he left with a suitcase.
Three days later, a tropical storm hit Veracruz. The wind rattled the windows and the rain fell relentlessly. Mariana felt her first contractions, alone, without transportation, with no one to help her.
She barely made it to the General Hospital of Xalapa, soaked to the bone, her face pale but determined. She gave birth to a beautiful baby girl with black hair and rosy cheeks.
He looked at her through sobs and said,
“You will be called Hope, because that’s all I have left.”
Nobody came to visit her. Not a call, not a message.
A week after giving birth, Julián returned from his trip with his mistress. He arrived in a new SUV, laughing, while Camila showed off her pregnant belly on social media with the caption: “With the true love of my life.”
When Julian opened the door of his house, he froze….
When Julián opened the door, the first thing he noticed was the scent of fresh flowers and rubbing alcohol. The living room, once messy, was now spotless. On the table was a new picture frame: in it, Mariana smiled, holding her baby… and next to her, a man in a suit with a bouquet of sunflowers.
Julian’s heart skipped a beat.
“What the hell…?” he whispered, looking at the painting.
Mariana emerged from the kitchen, slender but serene, wearing a white blouse and with her hair pulled back. She carried little Esperanza in her arms, wrapped in a lavender blanket.
“Ah, you’re here,” she said softly. “I didn’t expect you to return so soon… I thought you’d stay in Cancún, taking care of ‘your true love.’”
Julian frowned, trying to regain his air of authority.
“Don’t start with your drama, Mariana. I only came to pick up some papers.”
“Papers?” She smiled coldly. “You mean the house and car documents, right? They’re not here anymore.”
Julian paled.
“What did you do?”
“I sold them.” Mariana walked slowly to the window, rocking her daughter. “I used the money to move. We won’t be living here anymore starting tomorrow.”
—What?! This house is in my name!
“It was.” Mariana turned and showed her a folder. “When you left, you forgot something: the property was registered under the joint loan… and when you disappeared for more than two weeks without leaving any contact, the bank exercised the foreclosure clause. Do you know who bought it?” Her eyes gleamed. “Mr. Aguilar, my boss. The same one who promoted me to general accountant after he found out I gave birth alone during the storm.”
At that moment, the sound of an engine was heard outside. A white pickup truck with the hardware store’s logo pulled up in front of the house. Mr. Aguilar—the man in the portrait—got out with a calm smile.
“All set, Mariana?” he asked, giving Julián a brief, disapproving look.
Julian clenched his fists.
“You can’t take her! You’re mine!”
Mariana raised her voice for the first time:
“I don’t belong to anyone!” The echo resonated off the walls. “And neither does this girl. She will have a name that isn’t stained by cowardice.”
Camila, the mistress, appeared in the doorway, staggering. Her face was contorted with rage.
“Julian! They kicked us out of the hotel! Your family canceled everything! My pregnancy… wasn’t viable!” she said through tears.
Silence fell abruptly.
Julián looked from one to the other, unable to utter a word.
Mariana took a deep breath, kissed her daughter’s forehead, and whispered,
“Look, daughter… that’s what happens when a man confuses courage with pride.”
Then she turned to him with the dignity of one who has learned not to beg:
“You chose to leave, Julián. Today, fate also leaves you alone.”
He left the house with his head held high, under the golden light of the sunset, as Mr. Aguilar opened the car door.
In the rearview mirror, Julián saw Mariana and his daughter driving away for the last time, and for the first time in years… he understood that he had lost everything.
Inside the empty house, on the table, only a note remained, written in firm handwriting:
“Thank you for leaving. Without your absence, I would never have found my true strength.”
And with that, the wind closed the door behind him.
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