He drove his pregnant wife away just because she was expecting a girl. Yet he spent a fortune to keep his mistress in a private clinic to deliver what he believed would be his “precious son.” But on the day the child was born, fate delivered him the cruelest lesson of his life…
The morning rose soft and golden over the outskirts of Guadalajara.
Lucía walked slowly around the small apartment, her belly round and heavy, every step labored. Even so, she gently held her stomach and whispered:
—“Just a little longer, my little one… we’ll be together soon.”
But her husband Héctor didn’t even glance her way.
From the moment she got pregnant, the man who once adored her had turned into a stranger. Everything bothered him: the way the house smelled, her morning sickness, her exhaustion. He acted like she was a burden, like her pregnancy had somehow erased her.
That night, as Lucía lovingly folded tiny baby clothes, he spoke words that shattered her heart.
—“Next month, you’re going to stay at your mother’s ranch to give birth. Things here are too expensive. Out there it’ll cost a few pesos. I’m not wasting ten thousand for this.”
Lucía stared at him, tears trembling.
—“Héctor… I’m nine months along. The trip is long. I could go into labor on the road…”
He gave a cold shrug, almost amused.
—“Not my problem. They have midwives there. And I don’t want you here whining all day.”
That was when Lucía realized: the man she loved no longer existed.
Two days later, carrying one worn suitcase and a heart full of pain, she boarded a bus to San Cristóbal de la Sierra.
Her mother, Doña Rosario, met her at the station. When she saw her daughter—thin, pale, exhausted—she wrapped her arms around her and cried.
—“My child… don’t worry anymore. You’re home. I’ll look after you.”
Meanwhile, the moment Lucía left, Héctor wasted no time returning to Camila Ortega, his young secretary—who was also pregnant. And she promised him the one thing he desperately wanted: a boy.
He felt triumphant.
—“Finally, my heir,” he bragged to everyone.
He paid for a luxury suite at Hospital San Rafael, spending nearly 100,000 pesos to ensure the “perfect birth.”
When the day arrived, Héctor rushed in with flowers, swelling with pride.
“My son is here! He’s my mirror!” he boasted, sending photos to all his friends.
But his happiness was destined to crumble quickly.
That afternoon, a nurse asked him to sign paperwork, so he headed to the neonatal unit.
When the door opened, he froze.
Standing there was Doña Rosario, looking directly at him—firm, unshaken.
—“M-Mother-in-law?… Why are you here?” he stuttered.
She placed a carton of powdered milk on the table and spoke calmly:
—“I came to see the great father of the great son he brags about.”
Héctor tried to explain.
—“This woman is just a friend I helped—”
But she lifted her hand, silencing him.
From her purse, she took out an envelope.
—“This is the baby’s DNA test. I requested it right after the birth. And guess what… the child isn’t yours.”
The color drained from Héctor’s face.
—“No… Camila told me—”
Doña Rosario released a harsh, bitter laugh.
—“You pushed my daughter out because she carried a girl. You left her alone to save money. Yet you threw a hundred thousand pesos at this woman. And for what? To raise another man’s child. You see, Héctor? Life always comes back around. God sees all.”
She walked toward the door, but turned once more.
—“Lucía had a beautiful baby girl. Healthy, precious, with the sweetest eyes. And she will have a father—just not you. From today on, neither my daughter nor my granddaughter needs a coward.”
The door closed with a heavy echo.
Héctor collapsed into a chair. The newborn’s cry echoed in the hallway—what had sounded like joy that morning now sounded like judgment.
Weeks later, the clinic called: he owed more than 120,000 pesos.
Camila had vanished.
The apartment he bought for her? Frozen.
His accounts? Empty.
His pride? Destroyed.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Lucía slowly regained her strength.
The fields glowed in the late afternoon sun.
Doña Rosario watched as Lucía rocked her baby girl.
—“You see, my daughter? Life always puts everyone where they belong. You have love. He only has regret.”
Lucía kissed her daughter gently and smiled through her tears.
For the first time in a long time… she could breathe again.
