Page 112 of Please, Forgive Me
Diego ran a hand through his hair, as if searching for the right words.
“I know I can’t undo what I did, Maria Gabriela. I know I hurt you, and nothing I do now will change that. But I’m trying. I’m trying to be better—for Clara, for Arthur, and… for you too, if you ever let me.”
There was a raw honesty in his voice, something I wasn’t sure I was ready to face.
He was standing there, vulnerable, something I never imagined Diego Bittencourt could be. The man who’d always been so sure of himself, so convinced of his choices, was now admitting his mistakes and trying to fix them.
I took a deep breath, trying to process it all.
For months I’d held on to my anger and pain, protecting myself behind a wall of distrust and resentment. And now, faced with this new version of Diego, I felt confused—unsure whether to lower my guard or keep it up.
“It’s hard for me to believe this is really happening,” I said quietly, meeting his eyes. “But I can’t deny you’ve been trying. And Clara has the father she deserves.”
He nodded, a flicker of hope in his eyes.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me overnight, Maria Gabriela. But I’m willing to wait. I’ll do whatever it takes to show you I’ve really changed.”
“But I may not change what I want right now, Diego.”
“That’s okay. I’m the one who messed up, and I’ll take the consequences. But I’m not going to stop trying—until my last breath—to bring this family together.”
I studied him for a few seconds, trying to gauge the seriousness in his words.
Was the powerful Diego Bittencourt really prepared to do that? To try until his last breath?
It was something I never would’ve imagined hearing from him months ago, when all we did was needle and provoke each other.
“Looks like someone’s turned into a poet,” I teased, raising an eyebrow, a smile tugging at my lips. “Who would’vethought Diego Bittencourt, the ruthless CEO, would be talking about ‘bringing a family together’?”
He chuckled—that low, rough laugh I hadn’t heard in a while.
“Maybe I’ve discovered a new talent. Or maybe it’s just desperation talking.”
“Desperation?” I feigned surprise. “Didn’t think ‘desperation’ was in your vocabulary.”
“It wasn’t—until I realized I was losing you,” he said, half teasing, half truth.
My heart gave a small, traitorous jump. As much as I wanted to keep my guard up, it was hard not to be affected by this lighter, more human side of him.
It felt almost like going back to the beginning, before things got messy, before the doubts and the fights.
“Well, maybe I got used to the sarcastic Diego—the Diego who always had a comeback for everything,” I said, crossing my arms, trying to keep my tone casual. “This new Diego is going to be more work, because I don’t know how to handle him yet.”
He gave me a crooked smile, tilting his head slightly.
“At least that hasn’t changed—I’m still going to be work.”
I laughed, shaking my head.
“And here I thought you were trying to improve.”
“I am. But I can’t change completely, can I?” He shrugged, still wearing that playful smile. “After all, who else is going to get under your skin the way I do?”
“No one,” I admitted, laughing a little more. “And honestly… I think I’m starting to miss it.”
“Who would’ve thought you’d miss being teased?”
“And who would’ve thought you’d admit that teasing me was, in some weird way, how you got close to me?”
