CHAPTER 4 – THE PROMISE OF THE THREE PLATES
“Dad! Dad, open your eyes!”
Carlos's voice echoed through the house.
Don Mateo lay motionless on the floor.
Sofía was sobbing.
Mariela covered her mouth, shaking.
Alejandro was already speaking to emergency services.
“Male, seventy-eight years old, chest pain and loss of consciousness… please hurry!”
Seconds felt like hours.
Carlos held his father's hand.
It was cold.
Too cold.
“Dad, please… not now. I just got you back.”
Tears streamed down his face.
For years he had been too busy.
Too tired.
Too distracted.
And now he was terrified of losing the man who had loved him more than anyone else in the world.
Then—
A weak cough.
“Grandpa!” Sofía cried.
Don Mateo's eyelids fluttered.
He looked confused.
“Why are you all crying?” he whispered.
Carlos laughed and cried at the same time.
“Because you scared us to death!”
A faint smile appeared on the old man's face.
“Sorry… old hearts like mine like causing trouble.”
Minutes later, the ambulance arrived.
Puebla General Hospital
The emergency room smelled of disinfectant and coffee.
Carlos paced back and forth.
Sofía sat beside him, holding the photograph of her unknown aunt.
Mariela stood in a corner, silent.
For the first time in years, she looked small.
Guilty.
Broken.
An hour later, a doctor approached.
“Family of Mateo Herrera?”
Carlos jumped up.
“Yes!”
The doctor sighed.
“He's stable.”
Everyone exhaled.
“But…”
That word again.
Carlos hated that word.
“He has severe heart disease.”
“How severe?”
The doctor hesitated.
“Without surgery… perhaps six months.”
Silence.
Sofía began crying again.
Carlos felt his legs weaken.
“And with surgery?”
“It could give him years.”
“Then we'll do it.”
The doctor's expression darkened.
“The surgery is expensive.”
“How much?”
The number that came out of his mouth made everyone freeze.
Carlos didn't have that kind of money.
Not even close.
The doctor placed a hand on his shoulder.
“You don't need to decide tonight.”
Then he walked away.
The family remained silent.
Finally, Mariela spoke.
“I have savings.”
Carlos looked at her.
“What?”
“I've been putting money aside for years.”
He frowned.
“The money for the beach house?”
She nodded.
“You wanted that house more than anything.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“I don't anymore.”
Silence.
“I was wrong, Carlos.”
No one spoke.
She looked toward Don Mateo's room.
“I thought he was becoming a burden.”
Her voice broke.
“But tonight… I realized something.”
She wiped her tears.
“One day Sofía will grow up too.”
She looked at her daughter.
“And if she treats us the way I treated your father…”
She couldn't finish the sentence.
Carlos lowered his eyes.
Because he had thought the same thing.
Mariela took a deep breath.
“I want to help him.”
For the first time that day, Carlos saw genuine regret in her eyes.
Before he could answer, Alejandro returned from making a phone call.
“I'll pay for the surgery.”
Everyone looked at him.
“What?” Carlos asked.
Alejandro smiled sadly.
“I owe Mateo more than I can ever repay.”
“You don't have to do that.”
“Yes, I do.”
He looked through the hospital window.
“For forty years, he raised my son.”
Tears filled Carlos's eyes again.
Alejandro continued.
“And now… I want to save my friend.”
No one argued.
Later that night, Carlos entered his father's room.
Don Mateo looked exhausted.
But when he saw his son, he smiled.
“You stayed.”
Carlos sat beside the bed.
“Of course I stayed.”
The old man looked surprised.
“As if I'd leave.”
Silence.
Then Carlos began to cry again.
“I'm sorry, Dad.”
Don Mateo frowned.
“For what?”
“For all the Sundays I never came.”
The old man's eyes softened.
“For every phone call I ignored.”
Tears rolled down Carlos's cheeks.
“For making you eat alone.”
Silence.
“For making you set three plates… and never showing up.”
The old man reached out his trembling hand.
“You came today.”
“But it was too late.”
“No.”
A soft smile appeared on his face.
“You're here now.”
Carlos lowered his head.
“I don't deserve you.”
Don Mateo gently squeezed his hand.
“Maybe not.”
Carlos looked up in shock.
Then the old man smiled.
“But I never loved you because you deserved it.”
Silence.
“I loved you because you were my son.”
Those words shattered him.
He cried like a child.
For a long time, neither of them spoke.
Finally, Don Mateo whispered:
“Did you see her picture?”
Carlos nodded.
“My sister.”
“She has your mother's eyes.”
A long silence.
Then the old man said:
“You need to find her.”
“I will.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
“And bring her here.”
Carlos smiled through tears.
“I will.”
“Good.”
The old man closed his eyes.
“I'd like to meet my daughter before I die.”
Carlos froze.
“You already think of her as your daughter?”
Don Mateo opened one eye and smiled.
“She's family, isn't she?”
At that moment, Carlos realized something.
Love had never been complicated for his father.
To Don Mateo, family was simple.
If someone needed love…
He gave it.
No questions asked.
The next morning, Carlos and Sofía prepared to leave for Mexico City.
Before getting into the car, Sofía looked at him.
“Are you nervous?”
“Terrified.”
“What if Aunt Isabel doesn't want us?”
Carlos looked at the photograph.
“I don't know.”
The little girl smiled.
“Grandpa waited for us for years and still loved us.”
She took his hand.
“Maybe she has been waiting too.”
He kissed her forehead.
“Maybe.”
As they drove away from the hospital, neither of them noticed the woman standing across the street.
She was watching them.
Watching very carefully.
She held a file in her hands.
Inside the file…
A birth certificate.
An adoption record.
And a photograph of a baby girl.
The woman whispered:
“So… you finally found me.”
A tear rolled down her cheek.
Then she said something that would change everything again:
“But I'm not Isabel.”
She closed the file.
May you like
“I'm her daughter.”
TO BE CONTINUED…
