I went to pick it up myself.
He was thinner, without an expensive watch, without arrogance, carrying a bag of clothes, and with immense shame in his eyes. He got into the car and for several minutes said nothing. When he finally spoke, his voice broke.
—Mom… if you still let me… I’d like to start over.
—That depends on you, Diego.
He looked at me like a child returning from a storm.
—I got a job at the public defender’s office in the prison. They want me to stay there helping out in cases of people who can’t afford a lawyer. I don’t earn much. But for the first time… I feel like I’m doing something real.
I turned to look at him.
He wasn’t the same.
—Your dad would be proud to hear you say that.
Diego burst into tears.
That night he had dinner at my house. He didn’t ask for money. He didn’t ask for keys. He didn’t ask about inheritances. He asked for my blessing.
I gave it to her.
Not everything was fixed as if by magic. Trust doesn’t return overnight. Nor does pain disappear with a dinner. But something had changed: greed had left the house, and in its place, a new man was beginning to enter.
As he said goodbye, Diego stared at the sea from the terrace, right where years before I had laughed after his betrayal.
“Mom,” he told me, “thank you for not saving me that night.”
—Don’t thank me yet. Show me it was worth it.
