When I saw my eight-month pregnant wife washing dishes alone at ten o’clock at night, I called my three sisters and said something that left everyone silent. But the strongest reaction… it came from my own mother.

I felt the insult hidden in those words.

But I didn’t answer.

Isabel watched me for a few seconds.

Then he said something he didn’t expect.

“All this… for a woman?

He did not raise his voice.

But the contempt was there.

Something inside me was definitely broken.

“No,” I replied.

I looked her straight in the eye.

“For my family.”

The silence was immediate.

Because for the first time… I had made it clear who my family was.

My wife.

And the son who was on the way.

At that moment we heard a noise behind us.

We all turned around.

Lucia was standing at the entrance to the room.

He had left his apron on the kitchen table.

His eyes were moist.

I didn’t know how long I had been listening.

He walked slowly towards us.

“Diego,” he said in a low voice. You didn’t need to argue for me.

I felt a lump in my throat.

“Of course it was necessary.

She shook her head softly.

“I don’t want to cause trouble among your family.

I held his hands.

They were cold.

“Lucia,” I said. You are my family.

No one said anything.

Not even my sisters.

Not even my mother.

Lucía looked at me as if she didn’t know what to do with those words.

Then something happened that no one expected.

My mother got up.

He walked slowly towards Lucia.