Every excuse.
Every time Mariana flinched when someone entered the room.
“Mariana…”
His voice barely came out.
She immediately pulled the blanket back over herself.
Not because she wanted to hide from him.
Because she was embarrassed.
Because she was afraid.
Because somehow, after everything she had suffered, she still worried about what he would think.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Those two words destroyed him.
Not because they were an apology.
Because they proved she believed she was the one who had done something wrong.
Julian sat beside her.
“No.”
His voice cracked.
“No, mi amor. Don’t say sorry.”
Tears filled his eyes.
“You don’t apologize for this.”
Behind him, Doña Carmen shifted.
A small movement.
But Julian noticed.
He turned.
And for the first time in his life…
he did not see his mother as his mother.
He saw a person.
A person who knew something.
A person who had been standing there while Mariana suffered.
“What happened?”
The room became silent.
Doña Carmen looked away.
“Son, don’t exaggerate. Pregnancy makes women sensitive.”
Julian stared at her.
“No.”
His voice was different now.
Calmer.
More dangerous.
“I asked what happened.”
Mariana grabbed his wrist.
“Julian…”
She was afraid.
Not of him.
Of what would happen next.
“Please.”
He looked back at her.
“Who did this?”
She closed her eyes.
A tear rolled down her cheek.
“Your mother.”
The words landed like a physical blow.
Julian stood up slowly.
“No.”
Mariana shook her head.
“I didn’t want to tell you.”
“Why?”
Her voice broke.
“Because every time she came here, she told me you would never believe me.”
Julian felt his stomach twist.
“She said you loved her more than me.”
A pause.
“She said if I caused problems between you two, she would make sure you lost your family.”
Julian looked at his mother.
Doña Carmen’s face changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
Because innocent people deny.
Guilty people calculate.
And his mother was calculating.
