It wasn't anything elaborate. They returned to Café Luna, near the Tlaquepaque plaza. Alejandro ordered two coffees and a sweet roll to share. Mariana laughed.
—You never wanted to come here. You said the coffee was too sweet.
"I used to be an idiot," he replied.
She let out a genuine laugh.
That laughter was the real beginning.
Their reconciliation wasn't instantaneous. Neither of them pretended that old wounds had healed without a trace. There were difficult conversations, tears, moments of silence, and memories that still weighed heavily on them.
But there was also forgiveness.
There were afternoons when the three of them strolled together through downtown Guadalajara. There were nights when Alejandro read stories to Mateo over video calls. There were Sundays at the market, breakfasts of chilaquiles, and small, everyday moments that, without fanfare, slowly rebuilt what had once been broken.
Two years later, Alejandro took Mariana and Mateo to the Huentitán Canyon viewpoint. The setting sun painted the sky a deep orange and gold.
Mateo was running around nearby, chasing soap bubbles.
Alejandro took Mariana's hand.
"I don't want to ask you to forget anything," he said. "I just want to ask your permission to walk with you from now on, without running away, without lies, without pride."
Mariana looked at him with tears in her eyes.
—Do you know how long I waited to hear that?
—I know. And I know I arrived late.
She squeezed his hand.
—You arrived late as a husband… but you arrived on time to be the father Mateo deserves.
Alejandro smiled sadly.
—And for you?
Mariana held his gaze for a long moment. Then, without haste, she rested her head on his shoulder.
—For me… you also arrived on time.
Matthew came running towards them at that moment.
—Family hug!
They both crouched down and wrapped their arms around him, laughing and crying at the same time.
A year later, Alejandro and Mariana remarried.
This time there was no big reception or mandatory guest list. The ceremony was intimate, at a small hacienda outside Guadalajara, surrounded by white flowers and soft music, with Mateo walking among them carrying the rings in a small wooden box.
When the judge asked if they wished to reunite their lives, Alejandro stared at Mariana and replied:
—Yes, I accept. This time, to take care of what I didn't know how to value before.
Mariana, her eyes shining, replied:
—Yes, I accept. Not because we have forgotten the past, but because we learned from it.
Mateo applauded before anyone else.
—We're family again!
Laughter filled the room.
Alejandro lifted him in his arms and kissed his forehead.
"No, champ," he said with emotion. "We never stopped being champs. It just took us time to find each other."
Mariana hugged them both.
And as the sun set over Guadalajara, Alejandro realized that the "gift" Mariana had promised him was never just Mateo.
It was a second chance.
An opportunity to become a father.
To love without selfishness.
To go back home.
And this time, I had no intention of letting any of it slip away.
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