Andrés approached with a smile too wide to be honest.
“Lucía,” he said, as if you were old friends meeting at a reunion.
You nodded once.
“Andrés.”
His eyes shifted to Mateo.
For one second, something like surprise crossed his face.
Maybe he had expected the baby he abandoned to remain small forever. Maybe seeing Mateo tall, composed, and brilliant made the years he missed stand up between them like witnesses.
“Son,” Andrés said, opening his arms slightly.
Mateo did not move.
“Hello, Andrés.”
Not Dad.
Not Father.
Andrés’ smile stiffened.
Valeria looked uncomfortable.
The little girl stared at Mateo with open curiosity.
“I wouldn’t miss this,” Andrés said.
Mateo tilted his head.
“But you did.”
The words were soft.
No anger.
That made them sharper.
Andrés cleared his throat.
“I know I wasn’t always around.”
Mateo looked at him.
“You were never around.”
People nearby began glancing over.
You touched Mateo’s arm gently.
Not to silence him.
Just to remind him he was not alone.
Andrés lowered his voice.
“Today isn’t the time for bitterness.”
Mateo’s eyes hardened.
“You’re right. Today is about work.”
Andrés smiled again, trying to recover.
“Exactly. And I’m proud of you.”
Mateo held his gaze.
“You don’t know me well enough to be proud of me.”
That was the first crack.
Andrés’ face flushed.
Valeria looked down.
The little girl squeezed her mother’s hand.
