Michael

Michael
Chapter 108 Michael

"Hello, my love. How are my two favorite people in the world?"

"We're good. I'm here with Margaret and the baby. Did you have lunch? Did you fall asleep at your desk?"

"Yes, my love, I had lunch, and no, I didn't fall asleep. I'm done with work and heading home now."

"At this hour? Wow, Dubois, you're a bit lazy, darling. Remember the employees who depend on you. Well, we're waiting for you."

"I'm very much a homebody now, love. See you there. I love you."

"I love you too."

I end the call and think that my wife is right. I realize that I'm spending less time at the company and more at home, unlike my previous life. Things couldn't be better; everything is fine at the company and in my personal life.

For now, I want to know what happened. I asked Margaret to talk to Valeria. If anyone can clear up Valeria's doubts, it's her mom and Margaret. Personally, I want to get married. It doesn't make a difference; I love them both the same. My child and Valeria are my family.

For all intents and purposes, she is my wife, but I want the legal bond to better protect my son and even her.

During the car ride, I reflect. Before, only my company and business motivated me; they were my only incentive.

Now, I want to rush home to see my family. Valeria and Alejandro are the center of my life.

At night, I almost don't sleep watching my baby. Sometimes when he cries, I have to pick him up quickly. After feeding, I hold him in my arms and talk to him until he falls asleep again. I could spend the whole night holding him, but Valeria reminds me to go to bed.

I also think about the great love I have for my son, and I wonder what happened with my parents and me. Why didn't they feel this love? When Alejandro was born, I made a commitment to defend him from everything, to protect him, to care for him. He's so innocent. What happened with my dad? Why didn't he love me like that? It's something I haven't been able to heal. Dad and mom didn't show me love in my time with them, at least I didn't see it that way.

Having a child was so incredible. Was it me? Was there something wrong with me? That question keeps tormenting me. I leave my reflections aside when I get home. These thoughts leave a bitter taste in my mouth and a heaviness in my heart.

As the car stops, I get out, thank my driver, and head to the front door. Before I can open it, my girl comes out.

"I saw you arrive from the living room window."

"You shouldn't be standing for so long."

"I haven't been. I just came to greet you. Now stop scolding me and give me a kiss. I missed you." My girl looks beautiful. Motherhood suits her well. I'm so happy when she comes to greet me upon my arrival. So, I return her kiss, and we head to everyone's favorite place, the kitchen. It's the gathering spot. I know, it's a bit strange.

There are Rosalía, Sofí, and Cristina, and the latter is holding my dear boy in her arms.

"Hi, how are you all?"

"We're good, just putting the baby to sleep."

"I think you're spoiling him. He'll want to be held all the time."

"There are plenty of arms here to hold him," Sofí adds. I take off my jacket and tie and hold him. His little eyes open for a moment. He's so tiny and so helpless.

"He's so helpless. How could anyone not love him? You know, today I was thinking about when I was a child and wondering how dad and mom didn't feel love for me. Why did they treat me like that? They practically always ignored me. I felt like a burden. I wonder how someone can't love their child."

"Michael, your parents loved you," Cristina says. I turn to look at her, and her attitude is the same as always, somewhat shy with an expression of humility obtained from years of serving others.

"It was always obvious to me that they didn't treat me with love. Dad never hugged me, never tucked me in at night, neither did mom. Why, Cristina? I was a child. I was their son. Why didn't they treat me with affection?" I feel Valeria come to my side and wrap her arm around my back.

Cristina looks at me and says, "Your parents did love you, especially your dad. He had a different personality. He was quiet, very serious, not affectionate like you are with your son. But when he arrived, he would ask, 'Did Michael eat? Has he been well?' I would tell him everything you did during the day, and after finishing work, even when you were asleep, he would come to tuck you in and see you, as did your mom.

"Both weren't a conventional couple. They had many commitments. Your dad was establishing himself in the international market, and that took a lot of time, but he called two or three times a day, asking about you. He would say, 'Take care of him, Cristina.'

"You never told me that, Cristina!"

"I didn't know you felt that way, and we didn't have that kind of conversation. Your dad was different. I think not all parents are equally affectionate. Some are just providers. They think that's the right way to show their love."

"But... why don't I remember a kind word from them?"

"You were very young when he showed affection. As you grew older, he became more reserved, but the love was the same. Until the last day of his life, he told me, 'Cristina, take care of my boy.'"
"I didn't know any of that."

"Even your father dreamed of the moment you would take over the company. It's my legacy, Cristina. My son will run the company; he is my pride. As for your mother, she loved you in her own way. She was much younger than your father; it was a marriage of convenience, and she was resentful because of it. But they loved each other, and she cared for you in her own way."

"I didn't know any of that."

"There was a big fight between them. Despite everything, they loved each other. During that big fight, your father told me, 'Go to my son, see how he is, make sure he didn't hear anything.'"

"I remember that fight. It was horrible; it traumatized me my whole life."

"They had fought before, and the excuse for the later fight was your mother flirting with a younger man. She did it on purpose; she wanted more attention from your father. He lived only to work and talked about his legacy all the time."

"I don't remember any show of affection from him."

"I already told you, he worked late and would go to your room when you were asleep. He would watch over you, tuck you in, and kiss your forehead."

"How do you know that?"

"I was watching over you, and several times I found him in your room."

"I never imagined that! I always thought of him as a cold man."

"He wasn't young when you were born. He was older and had a work ethic. I believe not all fathers are the same; some are more affectionate than others. As I said, he was a provider, only caring for your inheritance. When he died, he even looked out for you. He left your inheritance protected in his will and put you in the care of his most trusted lawyer."

"That's true. I've always said my father took great precautions to ensure my paternal family didn't leave me with nothing."

"He didn't trust your uncle. And it's not that he told me directly; a housekeeper learns many things, though I must be loyal, keep silent, and be prudent."

"Thank you, Cristina. I feel I owe you the peace your words have brought me."

"Forgive me, I didn't know you carried that in your heart. If I had known, I would have spoken sooner."

I look at my baby and promise him he will always know I love him. He will never have any doubts or need anyone to clarify it for him.

"Michael, come sit down to eat. Give me the baby," says Rosalía, and I hand Alejandro over so they can put him to bed.

"I still think this child is passed from arm to arm too much; he's going to get spoiled," I say, though jokingly.

"This little prince is so small, he doesn't know anything," says Sofía. "He won't get spoiled; he's just small," she says as she leaves with Rosalía and Alejandro, with Cristina also showering my son with affection.

I go to the table holding Valeria's hand. My wife is a great comfort; without saying anything, I feel her support. She caresses my fingers with her hand, and when we reach the table, I sit her on my lap, and we share my plate.

"That baby is going to get spoiled, being in people's arms all day."

"That's not true; he slept in his crib today."

"Tell me, what did you do today?"

"Almost nothing, just rested and took care of the baby."

"They let you take care of him today?"

"I had my moments. Alejandro has many fans, including the nurses."

"Of course, it's no surprise. He's my son, and he's going to be as handsome as his dad."

"Don't be so modest, Dubois."

"You know, I think the tension that's built up in my life has started to disappear."

"You've realized you were somewhat wrong about your parents."

"I still think they weren't good parents, but they loved me in their own way, at least according to what Cristina says."

"Michael," Cristina returned to the kitchen holding something in her hands. It was a photograph. "Your father had this photo in his office. I had to remove it when everything happened. You were little and sent to boarding school. I didn't remember I had it, so I kept it."

She hands me the photo, and I look at it. It's me as a baby, and next to me, looking at me with tenderness, is my father. If I needed proof that he loved me, this is it. This is how I see myself in the mirror when I'm holding Alejandro, my son.

"Michael, look at how he's looking at you," Valeria says to me.

"Yes," I say, looking at her. "Maybe he did love me."

"Of course he did. Just look at his eyes; it's a look of love."

I've been wrong about so many things, love, but this mistake made me very unhappy. I'm glad to realize that maybe things aren't as I thought. "Thank you, Cristina. I appreciate your words very much."

"I believe he did love you. You should think of him as a serious man full of commitments, with time dedicated to building a company and maintaining it as your legacy."

"That's right. I was also wrong about you. You were always a protective angel. Maybe I wasn't so alone; you always looked out for me. When I came home for vacations, you were always there, pleasing me and watching over me. Forgive me, I always thought you did it because it was part of your job."

"It's not like that. I never fell in love or had children, so you were my child to care for. However, I couldn't cross the line; I was just the help. But I would have liked to hug you and comfort you. I could only make your favorite meals and watch over you."

"Thank you for that, Cristina." I hug her. She is someone who accompanied me through my childhood, adolescence, and even as an adult, always there, silently watching over me.