” “What you’re already doing: be present for them, create a routine, and avoid raising your voice. Explain what’s happening, but don’t promise things you might not be able to keep.”
Later, the psychologist spoke privately with Santiago in the garden. Meanwhile, Tomás used the time to do laundry and prepare something for them to eat. He didn’t exactly feel like the world’s best father, but he was doing his best. After the session, Santiago walked into the kitchen.
“Dad, the lady told me I can tell you if I’m scared of something.
” “You can always tell me what you’re feeling, champ.
” “What if my mom doesn’t change?”
Tomás crouched down to his level.
“That’s not something you or I can control, but we’ll be okay no matter what.
” “Really?
” “And if she truly tries and changes, then we’ll figure it out with the doctors and the judge. What matters right now is that you’re safe and at peace.”
Santiago nodded. Then he went to check on Alma, who was asleep on the couch hugging her doll.
Later, Tomás received a call from the General Hospital.
“Mr. Gutiérrez, Mrs. Vargas requested to begin therapy. She said she wants to fully cooperate with the judge’s requirements.
” “And what does the medical report say?
” “She’s recovering well. Soon she’ll be able to walk without assistance. The psychiatrist has already evaluated her and says she’s ready to begin psychological treatment. Would you like to speak with her?
” “Of course, if you approve it. She’s awake and willing.”
Tomás hesitated for a moment.
“I’ll go tomorrow, but don’t tell the children yet.”
That night, Tomás sat alone in the dining room. He didn’t turn on the television; he simply listened to the quiet hum of the refrigerator. He felt afraid—afraid of making mistakes, afraid he wouldn’t know how to handle everything. But he also felt something different, as if he were finally doing the right thing. He checked the time. It was late. He stood up, went to the children’s room, and saw them sleeping together. Santiago was holding Alma, as if he still needed to be certain they were safe. Tomás gently stroked their heads.
“No one is going to leave you alone again. That’s it.”
The next day, Tomás arrived at the general hospital with a strange feeling. It wasn’t anger, and it wasn’t pity. It was something in between—somewhere between distrust and responsibility. He knew seeing Leticia wouldn’t be easy, but he had to do it.
He found her sitting in a wheelchair, wearing a hospital gown with her hair tied back. Her gaze was fixed on the floor. When she saw him enter, she barely looked up.
“Thank you for coming,” she said softly.
“I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing it for my children.”
“I know. And you’re absolutely right.”
An awkward silence followed. Tomás crossed his arms.
“I heard you’re starting therapy.
” “Yes. I know it doesn’t erase what I did, but I need to get my life back on track. I’ve felt like I’m drowning for months.
” “That doesn’t excuse what happened.
” “I’m not trying to excuse it. I just want to be honest with you. I lost myself, Tomás. Between the stress of work, the kids, the guilt… and that idiot, I became someone else.
” “That idiot who abandoned your children and left you bleeding on the side of the road.”
“I don’t even want to talk about him anymore. I blocked him everywhere. I don’t want anything to do with him.”
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