Page 57 of Please, Forgive Me
“Sit down.”
That formal, detached tone sent a shiver through me. I sat, keeping my eyes on him, trying to read what was happening—but his face gave me nothing.
“I’m keeping my promise,” he said, his voice controlled but harder than I’d ever heard it. “You’re staying here for the next six months, whether you like it or not. I don’t go back on my word—make sure that’s clear.”
A knot formed in my throat. His words felt final, like a sentence being handed down.
“But when those six months are over,” he went on, each word cutting into me like a cold blade, “you’re fired. And after that, I never want to see your face again. Understood?”
It hit me like a punch.
I’d expected him to be angry—maybe even furious—but this was different. This wasn’t just anger. This was him erasing me from his life completely.
“Diego, I…” I tried, my voice coming out weaker than I wanted, but he raised a hand, silencing me before I could finish.
“No, Maria Gabriela. You’ve already wasted enough of my time. Made me believe in something that doesn’t exist.”
He looked at me like I was a problem he needed to eliminate, something he had to erase to move on.
And for the first time since I’d started working for him, I felt a real barrier between us. It was as if the man I knew had disappeared, replaced by a stranger.
“You think you can play games with someone like me?” He leaned forward, eyes locked on mine, his voice full of frustration laced with something deeper I couldn’t quite name. “You think you can just say you’re pregnant and expect me to accept it? I’m not a fool, damn it!”
His words landed heavy, like stones. He’d never believe me. Worse, he saw me as someone trying to manipulate him.
“Diego, I swear, I didn’t—” I tried again, but he cut me off before I could finish.
“Spare me the excuses,” he said with a dismissive wave. “You’re going to do what you said—work here for the next six months—and then you’re walking out that door and never coming back.”
The way he said it, like I was disposable, made my chest tighten. He was being cruel, and he knew it. This was the treatment I’d be getting from now on.
The room was silent except for the sound of his heavy breathing. My hands trembled in my lap. I felt tears threatening but fought them back.
I wasn’t going to cry in front of him. Not again.
“Do you understand me?” he asked, his voice unyielding.
I nodded, wordless. In that moment, there was nothing left to say. His decision was made.
Diego didn’t believe me, and no matter how much I wanted to prove otherwise, he’d shut himself off completely.
“You can go,” he said, not even looking at me now, like I was nothing but an inconvenience.
I stood, feeling defeated in a way I’d never known. Crossing that office was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. Each step reminded me I was losing more than just a job.
I was losing Diego.
Even if there had never been anything concrete between us, anything real, I was losing the hope that there could be.
When I closed the door behind me, the sound echoed down the silent hallway. I stopped for a second, trying to breathe, but there was no relief. The air felt heavy, the weight on my chest still there, pressing down.
I walked back to my desk, trying to pull myself together. But the pain stayed, raw and alive, reminding me that in six months it would all be over. I was destined to face this alone, carrying the weight of this unbearable situation.
I stared out the window, searching for a distraction, but all I could think about was how it had come to this. The sting of his words, the way he’d treated me, burned inside me.
The man I’d known—the one who could make me laugh even on the worst days—was now just a stranger who wanted me gone.
And that hurt more than anything else.
