Page 111 of Please, Forgive Me
“And your temper most of the time,” I shot back, half teasing, half serious. He smiled, and for a moment he almost made me forget the man he used to be.
When we reached the mansion, I couldn’t help but be impressed.
I’d always known Diego had money, but standing there at his home gave that reality a new dimension. The imposing façade, the immaculate gardens—everything exuded a quiet, striking elegance.
Diego got out and came around to my side, helping me lift Clara from the car. He looked more at ease here, as if being on his own turf let him drop his guard a little.
We walked together to the entrance, where a small birthday setup had been arranged. Colorful balloons decorated the doorway, and a smile spread across my face as I realized that, despite everything, Diego was a devoted father.
“It’s a small party—just family and a few close friends of Arthur’s,” he explained as he guided me inside. “I hope you feel comfortable.”
“It’s beautiful. I’m sure Arthur’s going to love it,” I said, taking in the warm atmosphere that, for a moment, made everything feel almost normal.
We stepped into the main room, where Arthur was surrounded by friends, running around a table piled with gifts and sweets. The moment he spotted us, he ran over, grinning from ear to ear.
“Gabi!” He threw his arms around me, then peered curiously at Clara in my arms. “She came!”
“She sure did, Arthur,” I said, smiling at him. “Clara came especially to see you.”
Arthur lit up, chattering excitedly about his plans for the party, and I felt myself relax a little more.
Diego watched from nearby, and every so often our eyes met—but without that heavy tension that had once been there.
“Thank you for coming. And for bringing our daughter,” he said quietly, his voice sincere.
“You’re welcome,” I replied, feeling a strange mix of emotions.
Diego exhaled, looking down for a moment before meeting my eyes again.
“I know I can’t erase the past, Maria Gabriela, but I want to be better—for you and for our daughter. I know I’ve got a lot to earn back, especially your trust, but I’m here. Whatever you need.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Are you in therapy?”
“Yes. And I’ve taken a few months off work.”
That shocked me. He’d always bragged about never missing a single day at the office.
“I asked because I saw you going into an office the other day while I was out walking with Clara.”
“No problem asking.”
“Why… why didn’t you tell me? About therapy or the break from work? Did you feel uncomfortable?”
He thought for a moment, then gave a brief, weighty smile.
“I didn’t want to use it to impress you or make you see me differently. I didn’t want it to feel like I was trying to manipulateyou or win you over,” he said quietly. “I needed it—for me. I had to work on myself, figure myself out, so I could be the best father Clara could have. To try to be a better person. That was what mattered most. It wasn’t about you or about us—it was about what I had to change inside me.”
His words hit me in a way I hadn’t expected.
I’d watched Diego change over the last few months, but hearing it directly from him—seeing the honesty in his eyes—was different.
He wasn’t trying to win me with grand gestures or empty promises. He was just… being honest. And somehow, that was more powerful than anything else he could’ve done.
“You really are changing,” I murmured, more to myself than to him.
