“Give me time,” she stated. “Not today. Today is her day, not yours. Don’t ruin this.”
“You have my word.”
The Meeting
The following days were slow torture for Eduardo. The business deals and investors seemed ridiculous now—child’s play compared to the anxiety of waiting for that call. Finally, the meeting was set: a Sunday at a discreet cafe near El Retiro Park.
Eduardo arrived thirty minutes early. In his pocket was a small object wrapped in velvet. When he saw Estela walk in, wearing jeans and a white blouse, he felt a terror he had never experienced in any boardroom. She walked straight to him with a determination she had, ironically, inherited from him.
“Hello,” she said, not yet sitting.
“Hello, Estela.” Eduardo stood up. He wanted to hug her, but he held back. “Thank you for coming.”
They sat. Estela didn’t order anything. She looked at him with a scientific curiosity, analyzing every trait. “My mother told me everything,” she said without preamble. “That you didn’t know. That she chose to protect herself.”
“Your mother is a brave woman. She did what she thought was best. The fault for not being a man she could trust lies solely with me.”