Every night I returned home exhausted, but the moment I saw my son, everything felt worth it.
My boy’s name is Lucas.
He’s six years old.
Blonde hair, wide curious eyes, and a smile that can erase a bad day instantly.
Many nights he falls asleep on the couch watching cartoons, and I carry him to bed.
Those moments always remind me why I work so hard.
My wife, Valeria, often says Lucas looks exactly like I did when I was a kid.
Maybe that’s why I’m so proud when I look at him.
But I never imagined I’d someday see another child…
with the exact same face.
It started near the end of last year.
Our company had just closed the biggest contract we’d had in three years. It had taken months of negotiations, flights, and endless pressure.
When the deal was finally signed, the whole office applauded.
That same afternoon Ricardo called me into his office.
I assumed we were going to talk about bonuses or the next project.
Instead he leaned back in his chair, folded his hands, and smiled.
“Marco… if you’re free this Sunday, come have lunch at my house.”
I blinked in surprise.
In eight years, he had never invited any employee to his home.
“It would be an honor,” I replied.
He simply nodded.