Episode 4

✧ Laura Campbell ✧

"Mommy, mommy!"

I woke up with a light weight on my chest and two little hands poking me. It was Miguel, just like always, calling me with his sweet, still sleepy voice, his hair messy and his little pajamas crumpled.

"Good morning, my baby" I murmured, pulling him close and hugging him tightly. I kissed his forehead, which still smelled like talcum powder, and he snuggled into my embrace as if it were the safest place in the world. And it was.

"When are we going home?" he asked, his eyes curious.

"Soon, my love." I stroked his hair.

"But how about we enjoy while we're here and do some shopping for our breakfast, huh?"

"Yay!" he replied, clapping his hands, excited as if he were getting a present.

These little moments were the ones that made me forget everything. The kind of love that heals the invisible cracks that life leaves in the heart. Miguel was my everything. My new beginning. My punishment and my redemption at the same time.

We took a shower, got dressed, and left the inn early.

The sun had barely settled in the sky, but the heat was already spreading across the sidewalk. Miguel walked beside me, holding my hand tightly, looking at everything around him with the same enchantment as always — as if the world were a new discovery with every step.

We arrived at the little market on the corner, which was just a few meters from the inn. It was small, old, with the smell of coffee and fresh bread in the air. The kind of place that seemed stuck in time.

We picked up some basics: milk, bread, fruit, cookies, chocolate milk — Miguel insisted on getting the box with the superhero drawing. I also took tea. Cristian had requested tea the night before. Why did that still matter to me?

We paid and left slowly. Miguel stopped in front of the market, fascinated by some pebbles on the ground. He crouched down and started playing, running his little fingers over them and inventing stories with them.

As I watched him, my cell phone started vibrating in my bag. I picked up the device and saw the name on the screen: Ilana.

"Hello?"

"Laura?" her voice came animated from the other end of the line.

"Hi, friend. How are you?"

"Fine! I just found out you're traveling. Why didn't you tell me? I would have gone on an adventure with you."

I let out an awkward giggle, adjusting the shopping bag on my arm.

"I didn't think I'd stay so long, you know? I came to sort some things out… and I chose to stay a few more days."

"Humm… “some things”, huh? Does that have a name, by any chance?"

I sighed and lowered my voice. I took Miguel's hand, who was already standing waiting for me, and we started walking along the sidewalk.

"Actually… it does."

"Oh my God. Tell me, woman! You're killing me with curiosity. Is it some stud you met?"

I looked around. The street was quiet, except for a horseman in the distance passing slowly along the dirt road. I wasn't worried.

"Ilana, I never told you this. But Miguel… he's Cristian's son. The one I told you about once, who was my first love."

The silence on the other end of the line lasted three seconds. Long. Suffocating.

"Laura…" she murmured "are you serious?"

"I am. I should have told you before, but I only felt like I needed to now." I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the truth running through me. "I hid this from everyone. Including him. And after he showed up at the apartment where I'm staying, I needed to vent."

"And you… are you going to tell him?"

"I want to. I swear I want to. But every time I think about looking him in the eye and saying he has a son… I freeze."

We stopped on the sidewalk in front of a closed shop. Miguel started jumping over a crack in the ground as if it were a game.

"I feel trapped. I feel like the worst person in the world. He has the right to know… but what if he hates me more than he already does?" I sighed deeply, putting my hand on my forehead. "Sometimes I feel like shouting to the whole city that Miguel is his son, just to take this weight off me. You know, I've lived my whole life alone, my son's record doesn't have the name of a father figure."

"You still love him, don't you?" Ilana asked with a softness that undid me.

"I never stopped loving him." I murmured, like a whispered confession. "He was the man of my life. Still is. But now… maybe it's too late."

"Maybe it's better if you tell the whole truth soon, friend" said Ilana in a firmer, but still gentle tone. "That way it will be less painful. Tell him yourself, make a date and have courage. Cristian deserves that. And so does Miguel."

I swallowed hard, trying to control the emotion rising in my throat.

"I'll do it, friend. I swear. Today. I'm going to prepare myself, organize my thoughts… and tell everything."

"I'll be rooting for you."

"Thank you, Ilana. You have no idea how much I needed to hear that today."

"I know more than you imagine. And remember: courage, Laura. Courage."

We said goodbye with a few more affectionate words and a "bye".

I hung up the phone with a lighter heart. Not completely, but enough to take a deep breath and feel that, for the first time, I had taken a step.

Ilana was one of the few people I met in the big city and kept close even with the distance. Unlike the other self-interested "friends" who surrounded my old life, Ilana was real. A simple, sincere woman with a welcoming soul. We met during an extension course at the university, and our friendship was established there, between confidences.

We returned to the little room at the inn with the sun already heating up more than it should. The narrow entrance hall smelled of old wood and a slight scent of lavender coming from some other room.

Miguel ran ahead, already knowing where everything was. He entered first, dropped the toy on the sofa, and went straight to the makeshift kitchen with that energy that only happy children have.

"Mommy, I'm hungry!" he shouted, climbing onto the chair at the table as if he were king of the house.

"I am too, my love. Shall we make a really nice breakfast?"

"With pancake?"

"With pancake, orange juice, bread, and the chocolate milk you chose. How about it?"

"Yes." he shook his head.

While Miguel was distracted with his toys, I started preparing everything carefully.

Golden pancakes, butter melting on the warm bread, the smell of coffee taking over the room, and the sound of the juice being squeezed fresh. It was simple. But it was ours.

I gave him his breakfast, I was ready to sit at the table when there was a knock on the door.

Two firm, dry knocks.

I stopped chewing instantly.

Miguel also looked in the same direction as me, curious.

"Mommy, who is it?"

"I don't know, love… stay here" I said with a chill running down my spine.

I got up slowly, wiped my hands on the dishcloth, and went to the door with my heart racing.

I turned the doorknob. And there he was. Cristian.

Different from the night before.

His face closed. His jaw clenched. His eyes sparkling. He didn't seem hurt. He seemed furious.

I didn't even have time to say "hi".

And that's how everything… collapsed.