The morning broke warm, bathed in that golden sunlight drifting over the hills of Guadalajara.
Lucía moved slowly through the small apartment, her swollen belly stretched to its limit. Every step was heavy, yet she gently stroked her stomach and whispered softly:
—“Hold on a little longer, my love… we’ll meet very soon.”
Héctor, her husband, didn’t even glance her way.
Since her pregnancy, the man who once drowned her in promises and tenderness had turned into a stranger. Everything irritated him—the smells, the meals, his own fatigue. He treated her with icy indifference, as if motherhood had erased her existence.
That night, while Lucía happily folded tiny baby clothes, he uttered the words that shattered her:
—“Next month you’re going to your mom’s ranch to have the baby. Everything here costs too much. Back there they’ll take care of you for just a few pesos; here it’s at least ten thousand. I’m not wasting money for nothing.”
Lucía stared at him, tears quivering in her eyes.
—“But Héctor, I’m already nine months pregnant… the trip is long. Something could go wrong…”
He shrugged with a cruel smirk.
“That’s your problem. There are midwives there. And I don’t want you here complaining all day.”
That night, Lucía understood that the man she had loved no longer existed.
Two days later, carrying an old suitcase and a shattered heart, she boarded a bus to her hometown, San Cristóbal de la Sierra.
Her mother, Doña Rosario, waited at the terminal. When she saw her daughter step down pale and frail, she could only hold her tightly and cry.
—“My little girl… don’t cry anymore. Stay here with me. I’ll take care of you.”
Meanwhile, the moment Héctor saw Lucía leave, he rushed straight into the arms of Camila Ortega, his young secretary.
She too was pregnant—and swore she was carrying a boy.
He felt blessed.
—“At last, my heir!” he bragged proudly.
Money meant nothing now: he checked her into a luxurious private clinic, Hospital San Rafael, reserving a VIP suite and paying nearly one hundred thousand pesos.
On the day of the birth, Héctor arrived glowing with joy, carrying an enormous bouquet of flowers.
“My son is born! He looks just like me!” he messaged all his friends on WhatsApp, flaunting a photo of the newborn.
But the happiness didn’t last.
That same afternoon, a nurse called him to sign some documents. Smiling, Héctor walked toward the neonatal ward.
The moment he opened the door, his heart dropped.
Standing before him, cold and unyielding, was Doña Rosario—his mother-in-law.
—“Mother-in-law?… What are you doing here?” he stammered, sweat sliding down his spine.
She set a carton of milk on the table and spoke firmly:
—“I came to see my son-in-law… and the son he boasts about so proudly.”
—“You’re mistaken, Doña Rosario… this girl is just a friend I’m helping…” —Héctor tried to explain, panic creeping into his voice.
She lifted her hand, silencing him.
From her bag, she removed an envelope and opened it slowly.
—“Do you know what this is? A DNA test. I asked the doctor to run it as soon as the baby was born. And guess what… the child isn’t yours, Héctor.”
Héctor’s face twisted. He stood frozen, speechless.
—“That’s impossible… Camila swore it was mine…”
Doña Rosario let out a bitter laugh—one that cut deeper than a scream.
—“You despised my daughter because she was carrying a girl. You threw her out to save a few pesos. Yet you spent a hundred thousand on this woman. And for what? To raise another man’s child. You see how life repays, Héctor? God never sleeps.”
She slid the papers back into her bag and walked toward the door.
Before leaving, she turned one last time.
—“Lucía is well. She gave birth to a beautiful, healthy baby girl with the loveliest eyes I’ve ever seen. And don’t worry… she already has a father. But that man is no longer you. From today on, neither my daughter nor my granddaughter needs a coward like you.”
The door slammed shut.
Héctor collapsed into a chair, burying his face in his hands. Outside, a baby’s cry echoed down the hallway—the same cry that hours earlier had felt like a miracle.
Now it sounded like mockery.
Weeks later, the clinic contacted him: he owed more than 120,000 pesos.
Camila had vanished, leaving everything in his name.
The apartment he bought for her was seized.
His bank account was empty. His pride lay in ruins.
Back at the ranch, Lucía slowly regained her strength.
The afternoon sun washed over the fields as Doña Rosario watched tenderly while her daughter rocked her baby.
—“You see, my child? Life always puts everyone in their place. You have love… he has only himself to blame.”
Lucía kissed her daughter’s forehead and smiled through her tears.
The wind whispered through the trees, and for the first time in a long while, Lucía breathed freely again
