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He just wanted to be a good neighbor by fixing her broken fence. He didn’t know that this simple woman owned half the city. When she discovered he was raising his daughter alone after being abandoned, she saw something money could never buy. The hammer pounded with a steady rhythm. Manuel watched the fence that separated his modest property from his neighbor’s.
Three broken boards, a rusty nail, and too much time neglected that boundary between worlds. “Dad, can I help you?” Lucía’s voice arrived like a breath of fresh air on that Saturday afternoon. “It’s best to watch from over there, sweetheart. I don’t want you to hurt yourself on those nails.” Manuel smiled at his daughter as he continued hammering. His greatest treasure, the only truly valuable thing he had in this life. Three years had passed since Beatriz left without explanation, leaving him with a young daughter and a mechanic’s workshop that barely provided enough to survive.“Are you making a lot of noise? Excuse the disturbance.” Manuel turned around, surprised. On the other side of the fence, Carmen watched him curiously. The woman had lived alone in that modest house for just over a year. They had barely exchanged a couple of polite greetings. Neighbors who share space, but not lives. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Carmen, I’m just fixing these planks before winter comes. I could have called someone to do it.” Carmen offered him a glass of water, which Manuel gratefully accepted.
“Neighbors help each other out,” she replied simply, taking a sip of her drink. “Besides, Lucía loves playing in the garden, and I don’t want her to hurt herself on the loose boards.” Carmen watched the little girl shyly hiding behind her father, hugging his leg as if it were her safest refuge. A smile lit up the girl’s face when their eyes met. “How old are you, Lucía?” Carmen asked, moving a little closer to the fence. “I’m very old,” the girl replied, holding up her fingers.
“And I like birds and yellow flowers.” Manuel gently stroked his daughter’s hair. “Excuse me, she’s very talkative with people she likes. It’s a compliment.” Then Carmen smiled. “Yellow flowers are my favorites too.” Lucía let go of her father’s leg and walked over to the fence, watching the woman more closely. “You live alone, you don’t have children, Lucía.” Manuel gently chided her. “Don’t ask such personal questions.” “It’s okay,” Carmen chided.
No, honey, I live alone. My job hasn’t allowed me to start a family. What do you do for a living? Children’s curiosity knew no bounds. Carmen hesitated for a second. Real estate, buildings and houses. My dad fixes cars,” Lucía said proudly. “He can fix anything that breaks. That’s why he’s fixing the fence, because he’s the best repairman in the world.” Manuel blushed slightly. “I have a small mechanic shop two blocks from here. Nothing fancy. San Miguel Shop,” Carmen agreed.
“I’ve seen him. There are always cars waiting. He must be good at what he does. I try to be honest with my customers. In a town like San Martín, reputation is everything.” A comfortable silence settled between them. Manuel went back to his work, placing a new board on the fence. Carmen didn’t leave. She watched attentively as the man’s hands, calloused from work, transformed something broken into something functional again. “They don’t have any appointments today. It’s Saturday,” Manuel remarked without stopping his work.
Carmen shook her head. “I prefer the peace and quiet of my garden to social gatherings. Dad, look what I found!” Lucía ran up with a peacock moth in her hand. She stopped in front of the fence to show it to Carmen. “It has seven spots. Do you know that means good luck?” Carmen leaned over to get a better look at the tiny insect. “It’s beautiful. And yes, I think today is a lucky day for everyone. Would you like to come and have some lemonade when Dad’s finished?” Lucía asked.
We made it yesterday and it’s delicious. Manuel was about to speak, but Carmen spoke first. “I’d love to, if your father doesn’t mind.” Their eyes met over the half-repaired fence. Manuel nodded. “Of course. A break will do us all good.” As he finished fixing the fence, Manuel couldn’t help but wonder about his neighbor. She lived simply in a house that didn’t stand out at all. Her clothes, her way of speaking, everything about her was understated.
Nothing suggested that Carmen was any different from anyone else in town. The truth, unknown to everyone in San Martín, was that Carmen Álvarez wasn’t just a real estate agent; she was the owner of Álvarez Construcciones, an empire that controlled half the properties in the province, a fortune few could have imagined, and a secret she guarded jealously, tired of self-serving relationships and false friendships. She had bought that simple house seeking peace, a place where she could simply be Carmen, not the businesswoman everyone wanted to please out of self-interest.
“That’s it,” Manuel announced, tapping the fence one last time with the hammer. “It’s not perfect, but it’ll hold up well through the winter.” Carmen surveyed the finished work. A solid fence, but with character, like the man who had repaired it. “He’s done an excellent job. How much do I owe you, Manuel?” He shook his head. “Nothing. As I told you, neighbors help each other out. I insist, your time is valuable.” “Would you be willing to exchange it for some advice, then?” “I need to buy a present for Lucía. Her birthday is coming up, and I never know what to choose.”
Carmen smiled. It was the first time Manuel had seen her smile like that, so broadly, so freely. That was a fair exchange. Lucía called to them from the small porch of the house. Lemonade awaited them in a glass pitcher and three glasses. As she crossed the newly repaired fence, Carmen felt she was crossing much more than a physical boundary. Manuel opened the small wooden gate with a certain pride in his work and invited her in with a simple gesture, but one imbued with dignity.
Manuel’s garden was small, but impeccably cared for. A swing made from a tire hung from the only tree, and a flowerbed overflowed with wildflowers, clearly planted with more enthusiasm than skill. “Lucía insisted on planting every seed she could find,” Manuel explained, noticing Carmen surveying the chaotic but colorful garden. “It’s beautiful,” she replied sincerely. “It’s alive.” They sat in mismatched chairs around a garden table that had seen better days. Lucía poured the lemonade with such concentration on her face that none of the adults dared offer assistance.
“Let’s toast,” said the little girl when she finished raising her glass. “What are we toasting to?” asked Manuel. Lucía thought for a moment. “To the new fence!” The three of them laughed and clinked glasses. “To the new fence!” the adults repeated. “And why did you decide to fix it today?” asked Carmen after taking a sip of her lemonade. “It’s been broken since we moved here, almost four years ago,” explained Manuel. “It’s always been on my to-do list, but the workshop takes up all my time.”
“My mom said she would fix it, but she left before then,” Lucía added with the innocent frankness of children. “She left when I was little.” An awkward silence followed her words. Manuel tenderly stroked his daughter’s hair. “Sometimes people take different paths,” Carmen said softly. “Beatriz decided she wasn’t meant to be a mother or a wife,” Manuel explained in a controlled voice. “She preferred to look for other opportunities.” Carmen sensed the pain behind those measured words, the wound still open.
“My mom is in the big city,” Lucía continued. “She’ll come to see me someday. Dad says she’s very busy.” Manuel looked away. Carmen understood that this was a sweet lie to protect a little girl’s heart. “And what would you like for your birthday?” Carmen asked, skillfully changing the subject. Lucía’s face lit up. “A bicycle. But Dad says maybe next year.” The girl lowered her voice as if sharing a secret. “People’s cars are breaking down less these days.”
Manuel smiled somewhat sheepishly. Things have been a bit tight at the garage. The new chain of garages on the main road is taking away our customers. Autofast, Carmen agreed, her body tensing almost imperceptibly. She knew that business well. It was one of the many companies her corporation had acquired the previous year, although the day-to-day management was handled by others. “They have better prices. Better tools,” Manuel continued. “It’s hard to compete as a family-run garage, but you actually fix cars,” Lucía chimed in.
Mr. Ramón says that at Autofast they only give them a superficial paint job. Carmen couldn’t help but laugh at the fierce way the little girl defended her father. “Customer loyalty is invaluable. I’m sure your shop will overcome this difficulty. I hope so,” Manuel sighed. “For now, we’ll manage.” The conversation flowed with surprising ease. They talked about the town, the upcoming harvest festival, and the small events that made up life in San Martín. Carmen surprised herself by sharing anecdotes from her childhood, stories she hadn’t told in years.
“And your parents?” Manuel asked at one point. “Do they live in town?” Carmen’s expression changed subtly. “They passed away a long time ago, in an accident. I was young and had to take care of everything.” “I’m sorry,” Manuel said with genuine compassion. “It was difficult,” Carmen admitted. “I had to grow up overnight, learn to handle responsibilities I hadn’t expected.” What she didn’t mention was the magnitude of those responsibilities, a business conglomerate that had grown tenfold since she took the reins.
Decisions that affected hundreds of employees. A life of gilded solitude at the height of success. “Losses shape us,” Manuel said thoughtfully. “They force us to discover strengths we didn’t know we had.” Carmen looked at him with renewed interest. This unassuming man possessed a wisdom that many of her highly paid advisors lacked. “Mr. Manuel,” a voice called from the street. An elderly man peered over the front fence. “Excuse me for bothering you on a Saturday, but the car won’t start, and we have the grandchildren visiting tomorrow.” Manuel stood up immediately.
“I’ll be right there, Don Francisco.” He turned to Carmen. “Duty calls. It was a pleasure sharing this lemonade.” “The pleasure was all mine,” she replied, getting up as well. “And thank you for fixing the fence. Come back tomorrow,” Lucía exclaimed, impulsively hugging Carmen. “Can I show you my collection of shiny stones?” Carmen, surprised by the gesture, awkwardly returned the hug. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had hugged her without expecting anything in return. “I’d love to see those stones,” she replied, her voice slightly trembling.
As Manuel walked Carmen to the small gate in the newly repaired fence, a thought crossed his mind. This woman kept secrets, like everyone else. But there was something about her that inspired trust. Perhaps it was the way she listened to Lucía with genuine interest, or how her eyes reflected a loneliness he knew all too well. “See you soon, neighbor,” Manuel said, extending his hand. Carmen shook it, feeling the warmth and strength of those fingers marked by honest work.
See you soon, neighbor. Upon returning home, Carmen paused in front of the hall mirror. She observed the simple woman who gazed back at her, so different from the powerful businesswoman who appeared in the financial magazines. For the first time in years, she felt that both versions of herself could coexist. In her office, the telephone rang incessantly. Twenty missed calls from her assistant, Ernesto, who was surely desperate to consult her about the purchase of some land, decisions that now seemed as distant as the stars.
Carmen looked out the window. Manuel had already left with his neighbor, but Lucía was still in the garden talking to the woman who was now resting on a leaf. A broken fence had been the beginning. Of what? She didn’t know yet. But for the first time in a long time, Carmen Álvarez felt curious about the future, a future that might be different from the one she had meticulously planned for years. On the horizon, the first stars were beginning to appear, silent witnesses to a seemingly chance encounter that would forever change the destiny of two people separated by much more than a simple wooden fence.
The bell at the San Miguel workshop rang faintly as Carmen pushed open the door. The smell of motor oil and freshly worked metal filled the air. Two weeks had passed since that Saturday with the broken fence. Two weeks of almost daily visits between neighbors who were slowly becoming more than just neighbors. “Just a moment, please.” Manuel’s voice came from a car lifted by the freight elevator. “No rush,” Carmen replied, taking in the modest workshop.
Manuel appeared, wiping his hands with a rag. His surprise at recognizing her was evident. “Carmen, I didn’t expect to see you here. I was passing by and thought I’d say hello.” He lied. In reality, he had canceled a meeting with foreign investors to be there. “I’m interrupting something important.” “Just the daily routine. This old sedan needs an urgent oil change.” Carmen scanned the workshop. Three cars were waiting to be serviced, tools meticulously organized on panels, invoices and papers piled on a small desk. Everything spoke of constant work, but also of financial hardship.
And Lucía isn’t with you today. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, she stays with Doña Soledad after school. She’s the neighbor across the street, an elderly lady who does me the favor of looking after her until I close up shop. It must be difficult to juggle work and raising children. Manuel shrugged. We adapt. In a small town like San Martín, people help each other out. Doña Soledad lost her son years ago and says that Lucía brought joy back into her home.
“Unexpected connections are the most valuable,” Carmen remarked, reflecting on how her own life had changed since crossing that fence. “Do you need me to check your car? Excuse my appearance, but no, it’s not that.” Carmen interrupted. “Actually, I came to invite you and Lucía to the village fair this Sunday. There will be craft stalls and music. I thought Lucía would enjoy it.” Manuel seemed hesitant. “He’s very kind, but on Sundays I usually get some work done here while it’s quiet.”
I understand, it was just an idea. An awkward silence settled between them. Manuel wiped his hands again on the cloth, a gesture Carmen had noticed was common when he was nervous. Manuel looked up, though. “Lucía’s been talking about the fair for weeks. Maybe I could make an exception for this afternoon.” The smile that lit up Carmen’s face was so genuine that Manuel couldn’t help but return it. “Wonderful. We can meet in the main square at 4. We’ll be there.”
The small church bell tower chimed in the distance, marking the hours. “It’s already 12 o’clock!” Carmen exclaimed. “I have to go. I have things to take care of.” “Of course,” Manuel agreed. “I’ll walk you to the door.” As they left the workshop, Carmen noticed curious glances from the café across the street. In a town like San Martín, news traveled at the speed of the wind. “I think they’re watching us,” she remarked with amusement. Manuel visibly tensed. “People talk, it’s inevitable. Does it bother you?” “It’s not that.” Manuel hesitated, searching for the right words.
I don’t want Lucía to suffer because of malicious rumors. She’s already been through enough. Carmen understood immediately. Your daughter’s protection always comes first. I deeply respect that. Thank you for understanding. They said goodbye with a gesture, aware of the eyes following their every move. Carmen walked to her parked car two blocks away. She didn’t want Manuel to see the luxurious vehicle that belied her simple appearance. Inside, she took out her phone and dialed a number. “Ernesto, I need you to discreetly investigate something.”
The Autofas chain and its impact on local workshops in San Martín, especially the San Miguel workshop. Of course, Mrs. Álvarez, it’s for the board meeting on Friday. No, it’s a personal matter. And Ernesto, as always, no one else should know about this—absolute discretion. Carmen hung up, aware that she was crossing a line. Her professional and personal lives were beginning to intertwine dangerously. But the image of Manuel working tirelessly in that modest workshop, while large corporations—his own corporation—threatened his livelihood, haunted her.
“Daddy, go higher!” Lucía laughed on the makeshift swing in the garden. Manuel pushed gently, carefully controlling the height. “If you go any higher, you’ll fly all the way to the moon,” he joked. “And you could say hello to the astronauts.” The sound of the gate opening interrupted them. Carmen appeared with a paper bag in her hands. “Carmen!” Lucía jumped off the moving swing, making Manuel catch his breath for a second. “Careful, sweetheart.” The little girl was already running towards Carmen, who greeted her with a smile.
“I brought something for a snack,” she announced, holding up the bag. “If you’re all okay with it, of course.” Yes, a surprise snack. Lucía jumped for joy. Manuel approached. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.” “It’s no trouble at all,” Carmen replied. “It’s just a thank you for the lemonade afternoons.” The quiet complicity between them grew as they set the garden table. Homemade muffins, fresh fruit, and hot chocolate made up the snack Carmen had brought. “This is delicious,” Manuel commented after trying a muffin. “Did you make these?” Carmen asked, hesitant.
The truth was that his personal chef had prepared them that morning following the family recipe. It’s my mother’s recipe. She always said that sharing food is sharing love. Your mother was wise. Manuel agreed. “Carmen, will you be coming to my school tomorrow?” Lucía asked suddenly. “Tomorrow is Career Day,” Manuel explained. “The parents are going to talk about their jobs, and since you work with houses, you could explain how they’re built. It would be more interesting than Mateo’s dad’s boring insurance talk.”
Carmen exchanged a glance with Manuel, who seemed just as surprised as she was by the invitation. “Lucía, Carmen surely has important commitments. We shouldn’t. I’d love to go,” Carmen interrupted. The opportunity to be a part of Lucía’s life, even if only for a day, was too tempting. “Yes, your father is fine with it.” Manuel nodded, touched by the genuine interest Carmen was showing in his daughter. “Yes,” Lucía exclaimed. “It’ll be the best introduction ever.” As Lucía ran to get her notebooks to show Carmen her school drawings, Manuel looked at her seriously.
You have no obligation. Lucía gets attached easily, but I understand you have your own life. And Manuel—” Carmen gently interrupted him. “I want to go. I really do,” Manuel seemed to be struggling with his words. “I don’t want Lucía to get her hopes up about a presence that might be temporary.” Carmen felt the weight of those words, the concern of a father who had seen his daughter suffer abandonment, a father who feared history would repeat itself. “I understand your concern, and I respect it.”
Carmen took a breath. “I can’t promise what the future holds, but I can assure you that I wouldn’t enter Lucía’s life just to disappear.” Manuel’s eyes searched for the truth in hers. Carmen held his gaze, letting him see her sincerity. “I believe you,” she finally said, “and I thank you for your honesty.” The moment was interrupted when Lucía returned with a stack of drawings, which she proudly placed in front of Carmen. “Look, this is my dad fixing cars, and this is the garden with all the flowers.”
And this one. Carmen examined each drawing with genuine attention, asking questions and praising the details. Manuel watched the scene with a mixture of joy and apprehension. His heart, closed for so long, was beginning to open again. The auditorium of the small San Benito school was packed with parents, teachers, and students. Carmen mentally reviewed her presentation, tailored to help the children understand the world of construction and urban development without revealing the scale of her business empire. “Nervous?” whispered Manuel, sitting beside her.
A little. I prefer negotiating with bankers to speaking in front of children. Manuel chuckled. Children are a more honest audience, though less ruthless. Teacher Pilar, a kind-looking woman, announced it was Lucía’s turn. The girl stood up proudly. “Today my friend Carmen will talk to us about how houses and buildings are constructed. She knows a lot because she works with houses every day.” Carmen walked toward the small platform, aware of the curious stares. She was not only a stranger in the village, but also a mysterious figure who had suddenly entered the lives of the beloved mechanic and his daughter.
Good morning, everyone. As Lucía said, my name is Carmen Álvarez, and I work in real estate. For the next 15 minutes, Carmen explained simply how a house is designed and built, from the blueprints to handing over the keys. She used metaphors that the children could understand, comparing the foundations to the roots of a tree and the beams to the building’s skeleton. “Is it true that you can build houses for rich people?” a child suddenly asked. Carmen hesitated.
“Well, architects design all kinds of houses for all kinds of people. My dad says you’re too elegant to live in the workshop neighborhood,” another girl commented bluntly. A murmur rippled through the room. Manuel visibly tensed. Carmen maintained her composure. “Elegance isn’t about where you live, but about how you treat others. Some of the most elegant people I know live in very simple houses.” Her gaze briefly met Manuel’s, and he nodded gratefully.
The presentation continued without further incident. At the end, several children approached with additional questions. Lucía patiently waited her turn before finally approaching and hugging her. “It was the best presentation ever!” she exclaimed. “Now everyone knows my friend Carmen is the smartest in the world!” Carmen felt an indescribable warmth upon hearing Lucía call her “my friend.” It was a title she valued more than any executive position. As they left the school, Manuel walked unusually quietly. “Are you okay?” Carmen asked. “That comment about you being too fancy for our neighborhood…”
The rumors are already circulating. The rumors don’t worry me, Manuel, but they should. In a town like this, they can be destructive. Carmen stopped, forcing him to look at her. I’ve faced hostile boards and multimillion-dollar negotiations. A few small-town rumors aren’t going to scare me. Manuel managed a sad smile. It’s not you I’m worried about, it’s Lucía. I don’t want her to suffer the consequences of our friendship. Carmen finished the sentence. Of whatever it is they’re doing between us, Manuel corrected bravely.
Carmen’s heart skipped a beat. It was the first time either of them had openly acknowledged that there was more than just a neighborly relationship. “Whatever you’re doing,” Carmen repeated softly. “I think it’s worth protecting, don’t you?” Before Manuel could reply, Carmen’s phone rang insistently. It was Ernesto. She couldn’t ignore him for the third time that day. “Excuse me, I have to take this.” She stepped back a few paces and answered in a low voice. “What’s wrong, Ernesto?” “Ma’am, the board has called an emergency meeting for tomorrow.”
Information about the cancellation of the shopping center in the north has been leaked, and shareholders are uneasy. Carmen closed her eyes, feeling her corporate world demand her attention. I’ll be there. Prepare all the reports. When she returned to Manuel and Lucía, her expression had changed. “Problems?” Manuel asked intuitively, as always. “Nothing I can’t handle, but I have to be away tomorrow. An unexpected business trip.” The disappointment on Lucía’s face was evident. “Aren’t you coming to see my collection of sparkling stones?”
I’ll do it as soon as I get back, I promise. Carmen crouched down to the girl’s eye level. And I’ll bring a special stone to add to your collection. Lucía nodded, accepting the promise. The headquarters of Álvarez Construcciones occupied the top five floors of an imposing glass and steel building. Carmen walked confidently through the lobby, completely transformed into the businesswoman everyone knew. Her assistant was waiting for her by the private elevator. Good morning, Mrs. Álvarez. The meeting is complete; they’re just waiting for you.
Thank you, Ernesto. Have you prepared the report I asked you for on Autofast? Yes, ma’am. The results are interesting. The chain is operating with excessively low profit margins in San Martín, specifically a strategy to eliminate local competition. Exactly. The regional director has implemented predatory pricing. It’s not sustainable in the long term, but it’s managing to ruin the independent workshops. Carmen felt a wave of indignation. Who authorized that strategy? Technically, ma’am, you’re part of the expansion plan approved six months ago.
The elevator stopped on the top floor. Carmen took a deep breath before entering the boardroom, where eight men and two women awaited her with stern expressions. “Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the delay.” Vicente Montero, the Chairman of the Board, addressed Carmen in a grave tone. “We understand that you unilaterally canceled the North Shopping Center project.” “I have postponed the final decision,” Carmen corrected. “The environmental and social impact studies suggest that we must reconsider. That project represented 20 million in immediate benefits.”
Sergio Laguna, the most aggressive of the shareholders, intervened. “Your duty is to maximize value for investors.” “My duty,” Carmen replied firmly, “is to ensure the long-term sustainability of this company, and that includes considering the impact of our decisions.” The discussion dragged on for hours. Carmen defended her position with data and projections while reflecting internally on how her own perceptions had changed in recent weeks. The consequences of corporate decisions were no longer abstract to her.
They had names and faces. Like Manuel and his daily struggle in the workshop, by the end of the meeting he had secured a commitment. The project would be reevaluated using broader criteria, including its social impact. Ernesto called his assistant as they returned to his office. “I want you to prepare a complete review of our procurement and competition policy, especially regarding Autofast.” “Does it have anything to do with that workshop in San Martín?” Ernesto asked, too perceptive for his own good. Carmen stared at him.
It has to do with the integrity of our company. I didn’t build this empire to destroy family businesses with underhanded tactics. That night, returning to her modest home in San Martín, Carmen stopped in front of the repaired fence. The light in Manuel’s kitchen was on. She could see silhouettes moving about, father and daughter sharing dinner, perhaps laughing together. For the first time in her life, Carmen Álvarez, the woman who had access to the most exclusive circles in the country, envied what was happening in that small house.
She took out her phone and texted Manuel. “Is the Sunday fair still on?” The reply came almost immediately. “Lucía’s talking about nothing else. We’ll see you at 4.” Carmen smiled in the darkness. Two completely different worlds, originally separated by a broken fence, were beginning to intertwine in ways none of their inhabitants could have imagined. The central plaza of San Martín was buzzing with activity. Stalls selling crafts, traditional sweets, and children’s games stretched out under the clear sky of that Sunday.
The town band was rehearsing in the bandstand, preparing for the afternoon concert, while the locals strolled around enjoying the festive atmosphere. Manuel and Lucía waited by the central fountain, the meeting point agreed upon with Carmen. The little girl swung her legs, sitting on the stone edge, constantly looking in all directions. “Do you think she’s forgotten?” Lucía asked after waiting ten minutes. “She’ll probably be here any minute,” Manuel replied, although he himself was beginning to have doubts. His job sometimes requires extra time.
Carmen finally appeared, making her way through the crowd. Her expression lit up when she saw them. “Sorry I’m late,” she apologized, slightly flustered. A last-minute call she couldn’t ignore. “You’re here.” Lucía jumped up to hug her. “Dad said I’d definitely come.” Manuel and Carmen exchanged a knowing glance, silently appreciating the growing trust between them. “Where do we start?” Carmen asked, casually taking Lucía’s hand. “The carousel.” The little girl pointed enthusiastically toward the traditional merry-go-round that revolved at the north end of the plaza.
The three of them strolled through the fair like any other family. For the residents of San Martín, however, the sight was curious. The well-known widowed mechanic, his adorable daughter, and the mysterious neighbor who had appeared out of nowhere months before. “Everyone’s staring at us,” Carmen remarked quietly as they stood in line to buy cotton candy. “It’s the novelty,” Manuel replied. “Soon they’ll find something more interesting to talk about. Look, Dad, that’s Mateo with his family.” Lucía pointed to a boy waving energetically from a nearby stall.
Go say hello if you want, Manuel told her. But don’t wander too far. As Lucía ran off toward her friend, Manuel and Carmen were alone for the first time that day. “Thank you for coming,” he said. “It means a lot to Lucía and me,” Carmen added sincerely. “I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed something as simple as a local fair.” “Your job doesn’t leave you much free time.” Carmen hesitated before answering. “Let’s just say my responsibilities usually keep me busy.”
A shout interrupted their conversation. Across the plaza, a man in an elegant suit was pushing his way through the crowd, walking directly toward them. It was Ernesto, Carmen’s personal assistant, with an urgent expression. “Mrs. Álvarez,” he called, abandoning all discretion. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Manuel looked at Carmen, confused. “Mrs. Álvarez.” Carmen’s face paled. Her corporate world had just violently collided with her life in San Martín. Ernesto replied sternly. “What are you doing here?”
Excuse the interruption, ma’am. Ernesto lowered his voice, noticing the tension, but the matter couldn’t wait. The Korean investors have moved their visit forward. They’ll be in Madrid tomorrow. We could have discussed this over the phone. She wasn’t answering calls or messages. The board insisted on contacting her in person. Ernesto glanced sideways at Manuel, clearly uncomfortable with his presence. Carmen felt the house of cards she had built beginning to crumble. “Manuel, could we speak privately for a moment?” They took a few steps away, leaving Ernesto waiting, visibly impatient.
“Who are you really, Carmen?” Manuel asked directly, his confusion giving way to a more serious expression. Carmen took a deep breath. “I’m exactly who you’ve known these past few weeks, only there are parts of my life I haven’t shared. Parts like being called Mrs. Álvarez by a suit-wearing assistant who desperately seeks you out even on Sundays. Manuel, I’ll explain everything, I promise. But right now, you must leave.” Manuel finished the sentence with resignation. “Of course, responsibilities call.” Carmen sensed the pain in his voice.
It’s not what you think. Please, trust me. Papa Carmen, come see the prizes. Lucia’s voice came from a nearby game booth, oblivious to the unfolding drama. Go with her, Carmen said. I’ll sort this out quickly and come back, I promise. Manuel nodded unconvinced. We’ll be at the shooting gallery. Carmen approached Ernesto, her expression transforming into that of the ruthless businesswoman everyone knew in the corporate world.
“This has been completely inappropriate,” he reprimanded her. “The board is concerned, ma’am. Your recent behavior, the delayed decisions, your disappearances.” Ernesto lowered his voice. “And now I find you at a small-town fair with a mechanic.” “My private life is not the company’s business, Ernesto. It never has been.” “With all due respect, ma’am, when you run an empire like Álvarez Construcciones, every aspect of your life affects the company.” Ernesto handed her a folder. “The details of tomorrow’s meeting.”
The jet will be ready to depart tonight. Carmen automatically took the folder, but her mind was torn between her business obligations and the promise she had made to Manuel and Lucía. “I’ll be in Madrid early tomorrow. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” “Tell me, ma’am.” Ernesto hesitated. “There’s something else I should know. Miss Inés García has returned from New York. She’ll be present at the meeting with the investors.” Carmen realized, Inés García, her former university classmate and now her main rival in the real estate sector.
Her return complicated everything. Thank you for the information, Ernesto. Now, please leave discreetly. As her assistant walked away, Carmen looked around for Manuel and Lucía. She found them at the shooting range where Manuel was helping his daughter aim at the moving targets. She approached them, aware that something fundamental had changed. She was no longer simply Carmen, the neighbor; she was Carmen Álvarez, the powerful businesswoman, whose identity had just been revealed. “Carmen, look.” Lucía excitedly pointed to a plush beanbag hanging among the prizes.
Dad’s going to win it for me. Is everything alright? Manuel asked quietly as Lucía focused on her next shot. We need to talk, Carmen replied. But not here, not now. Manuel nodded, a shadow of disappointment crossing his face. You have to leave, Carmen decided at that moment. The Korean investors can wait until tomorrow. This is more important. The surprise in Manuel’s eyes was evident. He wasn’t used to being a priority for anyone, except Lucía. They spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying the fair, although an invisible tension hung in the air between the adults.
As the sun began to set, colorful lights illuminated the plaza and the band started playing. “Let’s dance!” exclaimed Lucía, pulling on both of their hands. “I don’t know if your father wants to dance,” Carmen remarked, searching for an excuse. “My dad dances very well, doesn’t he, Dad?” Manuel smiled weakly. “It’s been a while since I’ve danced, but I suppose some things you never forget.” The three of them joined the couples dancing in the center of the plaza, with Lucía skipping happily among them.
When the band switched to a slower tune, the little girl pulled them closer together. “Now just the two of you. I want cotton candy.” “Lucía, you can’t go alone,” Manuel began. “The stand is right over there,” the little girl pointed out. “I see you all the time, I promise.” Before they could protest, Lucía slipped away into the crowd, leaving them alone, face to face, while the couples around them swayed to the music. “We don’t have to dance if you don’t want to,” Carmen said.
Manuel extended his hand in response. “I think we owe each other this conversation.” Carmen accepted his invitation, and they began to dance, maintaining a respectful distance. “When were you planning on telling me you own half the province?” Manuel asked bluntly, though his tone was more hurt than accusatory. “It’s not that dramatic,” Carmen replied. “I only own a few companies, including Autofast, because that would explain a lot.” Carmen tensed. “How do you know? San Martín is a small town. News travels fast, especially when the mysterious Mrs. Álvarez, real estate magnate, shows up at our humble fair.”
Manuel, I don’t care about your money, Carmen, I care about honesty. Their eyes met, and Carmen saw in them not rejection, but disappointment, something much harder to mend. “You’re right,” she finally admitted, “I should have been honest from the start, but I was afraid it would change how you saw me.” “And how do you think I see you now?” Manuel asked, pulling her slightly closer as they twirled to the slow rhythm of the music. “As someone who lied to you?” Manuel was silent for a few moments. “I see you as someone who chose a broken fence to connect with real people.”
Someone who preferred lemonade in a modest garden to cocktails in luxurious ballrooms. That says more about you than any corporate title. Manuel’s words struck a chord with Carmen. For years she had built walls around herself, protecting the powerful businesswoman. But here, in the arms of a man who valued sincerity above all else, those walls began to crumble. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Carmen said. “We have time to get to know each other,” Manuel replied.
If that’s what you want. And what do you want, Manuel? The music stopped. In the distance, Lucía watched them with a smile, cotton candy in hand. “I want the person who has come into our lives to be real,” she finally answered. “We can figure out the rest together.” Carmen looked at Lucía, then at Manuel. For the first time in a long time, she had absolute clarity about what truly mattered. “I have to travel to Madrid tonight,” she confessed. “Matters I can’t postpone, but I’ll come back, Emanuel, and when I return, I’ll tell you the whole truth.”
If after that you still want me to be a part of your life, of your lives, nothing would make me happier. Manuel nodded, making his decision. We’ll be waiting. The gate will always be open for you. Lucía came running back, breaking the intensity of the moment. Look, fireworks! The night sky over San Martín lit up with bursts of light. As the three of them gazed up, Carmen made a decision that would change the course of her life. The Korean investors, Inés García, the Álvarez Empire—everything seemed insignificant compared to Lucía’s hand in hers and Manuel’s silent presence by her side.
The truth was finally on the table, or at least part of it. What would come next would depend on decisions neither of them could foresee in that magical moment under the bright San Martín sky. The Emperor Hotel’s conference room glowed with the morning light filtering through the windows around the Mahogany table. Eight men in impeccable suits and three women with expectant expressions waited. Carmen, seated at the head of the table, reviewed the documents Ernesto had meticulously prepared.
As you can see in the projection, the project meets all international standards, she explained professionally. The permits are in order, and the environmental impact studies have been favorable. The Korean investors nodded, impressed not only by the project but also by the confidence with which Carmen controlled every aspect of the business. To any outside observer, the powerful Carmen Álvarez was in complete control. However, her mind kept wandering to San Martín, to Manuel and Lucía, to promises made under fireworks.
“Ms. Álvarez, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” Inés García’s elegant voice interrupted her thoughts. Her former university classmate and now business rival had remained discreetly at the back of the room during the presentation. “Iés, I didn’t expect to see you here. Innovative projects always catch my attention, especially when they come from you.” Inés’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We could talk privately.” While the investors reviewed the documentation with Ernesto, Carmen and Inés withdrew to a secluded corner of the room.
Straight to the point. Carmen began, “Inés. I’ve heard some interesting rumors about your recent interest in rural life.” Carmen maintained her impassive expression. “My private life is not a matter for professional discussion.” Normally I would agree, but when the powerful Carmen Álvarez plays the part of an ordinary neighbor in San Martín, fraternizing with local mechanics, it becomes a matter of interest. A shiver ran down Carmen’s spine. “You’re watching me.” “Let’s just say I have eyes and ears in many places, especially where there are business opportunities.”
Inés moved closer, lowering her voice. The shopping center project you canceled had some very interesting adjacent land. I postponed it—”I didn’t cancel it,” Carmen corrected. “And it was a purely business decision. I’m sure of it. Because it coincides suspiciously with your new friendship with a certain mechanic whose business would be affected.” Carmen felt a pang of alarm. Inés knew too much. “What do you want, Inés?” “Collaboration, my dear. I have a proposal that would benefit both corporations. My real estate development next to your shopping center would be historic.” “Yes, I decline the collaboration.”
Inés’s smile turned predatory. It would be a shame if the Álvarez Construction Board discovered that its president makes decisions based on personal matters, or if your new mechanic friend found out that you own the land where his workshop is located. Carmen paled. What are you talking about? You didn’t know. How careless. Your corporation acquired that block of properties two years ago, including the building where the San Miguel workshop operates. Ironic, isn’t it? He doesn’t even know he’s paying rent to the woman he’s trying to win over.
The meeting continued, but Carmen barely processed what was happening around her. When it finally ended, with the investors satisfied and committed to the project, Carmen locked herself in her temporary office. “Ernesto, I need all the information about our properties in San Martín, specifically the building where the San Miguel workshop is located.” Her assistant looked at her with concern. “Is something wrong, ma’am?” “I’m just confirming information.” “And Ernesto, this is absolutely confidential.” While she waited, Carmen considered the implications. If she really did own Manuel’s workshop, how would she explain it?
He valued honesty above all else. This revelation, coupled with his hidden identity, could destroy any chance they had. Manuel closed the workshop with mechanical movements. Three days had passed since the fair. Three days without news of Carmen. His thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of his telephone. San Miguel Workshop. Manuel. This is Alejandro from the bank. The voice sounded uneasy. We have a problem with your rental agreement. What problem? The payment was made on time, as always. It’s not that.
There’s been a change in ownership of the property. The new owner has requested a meeting with you tomorrow at our branch. Change of ownership. Who bought the building? I’m not authorized to give you that information over the phone. I can only tell you that they represent a major real estate company. As he hung up, a disquieting feeling settled in his chest. Could it be? The coincidence seemed too great. When he got home, he found Lucía drawing at the garden table. “Dad, look what I made for Carmen when I get back.”
The drawing showed three figures holding hands in front of a house, a makeshift family that had begun to form against all odds. It’s beautiful, darling. I’m sure she’ll love it. Manuel sat down next to his daughter, searching for the right words. Lucia, do you remember when I explained to you that sometimes adults have to make difficult decisions? The little girl nodded, putting her pencil down on the table. Carmen is different from what we thought. She’s a very important woman, with many responsibilities, like a princess.
Lucia’s eyes sparkled at the thought. Manuel smiled sadly. Something like that. And sometimes important people have complicated lives they can’t always share with us. But she promised to come back, Lucia insisted. And Carmen always keeps her promises, like when she brought me the sparkling stone for my collection. His daughter’s unwavering faith touched him. How could he explain to her that even adults sometimes break promises? The next morning, Manuel entered the bank branch apprehensively. He was led to a meeting room where an elegant woman waited with her back to him, gazing out the window.
Good morning, I’m Manuel Sánchez from the San Miguel workshop. The woman turned slowly. Good morning, Manuel. Inés. Manuel recognized the woman he had briefly seen during the fair talking to Carmen’s assistant. Are you the new owner? Not exactly. I represent the interests of the real owner. Inés smiled, studying his reaction. Owner for two years now, I should clarify. Manuel tensed. Who is it? I think you already suspect. Inés slid a folder onto the table. Álvarez Constructions, or more specifically, Carmen Álvarez, your charming neighbor.
Although he’d suspected it, the confirmation hit him like a ton of bricks. Carmen hadn’t just kept her identity a secret; she was also his landlady. Every month, without realizing it, he paid the rent to the woman he’d begun to love. “Why are you telling me this? What do you gain from it? Transparency, Manuel, something Carmen hasn’t offered you.” Inés sat down across from him. “Besides, I have a proposal for you, one that could solve your financial problems. I don’t need solutions from someone who’s clearly trying to harm Carmen.”
I’m not trying to hurt you, I’m just revealing the truth. She’s a ruthless businesswoman who has ruined family businesses like yours for years. Do you know that Autofast, the chain that’s wiping out independent workshops, also belongs to her? Manuel maintained his composure, even though each revelation was a new blow. “My proposal is simple,” Inés continued. “I’m offering to buy your business for a generous sum. You could start over anywhere without financial worries. Why would you be interested in my little workshop? The land, Manuel, is part of a larger project, and I’d rather deal with you directly than wait for Carmen to evict you when it suits her.”
Carmen wouldn’t do that. Are you sure? Do you really know Carmen Álvarez, the woman who built an empire, sacrificing everything and everyone in her path? Manuel stood up, unable to listen any longer. Thank you for the offer, but I must decline. My workshop isn’t for sale. J. Everyone has a price, Manuel, Inés insisted. What’s yours? There are some things that are priceless. Manuel headed for the door. My integrity is one of them. Carmen stepped off the corporate plane with a resolve she hadn’t felt in years.
Three days of reflection in Madrid had clarified her priorities. She had made decisions that would change her life and her company forever. “The car is waiting, ma’am,” the driver announced. “Thank you, Ramón. This time I’ll go directly to San Martín.” During the drive, Carmen mentally reviewed what she had discovered. Indeed, she owned the building where Manuel’s workshop was located, an acquisition made by one of her regional directors as part of a larger package, without her paying specific attention to each property.
She had also confirmed that Autofast was implementing aggressive strategies against independent workshops, strategies she had ordered to cease immediately, much to the dismay of the Board of Directors. Upon arriving in San Martín, Carmen went directly to the workshop. She found it closed with a makeshift sign, closed for personal reasons. Worried, she headed toward Manuel’s house. As she approached, she saw Lucía in the garden, alone, sitting on the swing that was barely moving. “Hello, little one,” Carmen called from the fence. “Carmen!” Lucía ran toward her, but stopped short of hugging her, an unusual restraint for the normally effusive girl.
“Dad said you were a princess of buildings.” Carmen smiled sadly. Something like that. Is your dad home? Lucía shook her head. He’s talking to that mean lady at the bank about the workshop. Mean lady, the one who wants to take our workshop away. Dad doesn’t know I overheard him on the phone. Carmen’s heart raced. It could only be Inés. Lucía, do you know exactly where your dad is right now? On the big bench by the plaza. Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll be back soon, I promise.
Carmen ran to her car and sped toward the town center. When she arrived at the bank, she saw Manuel leaving the building, looking dejected. “Manuel,” she called, hurrying over. He looked up, and Carmen felt the impact of his hurt expression. “Carmen, or should I say Mrs. Álvarez, my dear landlady. Manuel, can I explain? I didn’t know you owned my workshop or that your company is deliberately ruining my business.” “What else didn’t you know, Carmen? I was going to tell you everything.”
That’s why I came back. Manuel stared at her. “You know what the worst part is? That despite everything, I believed you when you said you’d come back, that I trusted you, and you can still trust me. What we have is real. Real.” “How can I know? It’s all been a lie from the beginning.” “Not everything,” Carmen insisted, feeling she was losing him irretrievably. “My feelings for you and for Lucía are the most real thing I’ve felt in years.” Manuel remained silent, internally debating. “Your friend Inés offered to buy the workshop,” he finally said.
“A generous price? Don’t do it. She just wants the land to pressure me. I rejected it,” Manuel replied. “Not because I cared about your situation with her, but because some things aren’t for sale, like dignity.” Carmen felt a deep admiration mixed with shame. This man, with his unwavering integrity, was teaching her a lesson without intending to. “I’ve failed you,” Carmen acknowledged. “But if you give me another chance, I’ll show you who I really am, without masks, without secrets.” Manuel looked at her for a long time, the conflict visible in his eyes.
Lucía is waiting for you at home. She has a drawing for you. It wasn’t forgiveness, but neither was it outright rejection. It was a door ajar. A possibility. “Will you come too?” Carmen asked. “I need time to think, to decide if what I feel for you is stronger than the disappointment.” Carmen nodded, respecting his space. “I’ll be with Lucía. When you’re ready, the gate will be open for you.” As Manuel watched her walk away, a certainty settled in his heart. Despite the betrayal and the complications, what he felt for Carmen Álvarez was too deep to ignore.
The question was, “Could I overcome the betrayal and build something real with her?” The answer wasn’t clear yet, but for the first time in three days, she felt there was a possible path to reconciliation. A difficult path, but one that might be worth taking. Sunlight filtered through the curtains of the makeshift office Carmen had set up in her house in San Martín. Contracts, deeds, and legal documents piled up on the table. Three weeks had passed since her confrontation with Manuel in front of the bank—three weeks of radical changes in her life.
“Are you sure about this, ma’am?” Ernesto anxiously reviewed the papers he had just signed. “The board will consider this decision reckless, to say the least. The board will have to adapt, Ernesto, or accept my resignation.” The determination in her voice left no room for doubt. Carmen Álvarez had finally found her moral compass, even if the price was exorbitant. The restructuring of Autofast is already causing unease among shareholders. “If we also give away properties, we’re not giving them away,” Carmen corrected. “We’re transferring them to a foundation that will guarantee fair rents and a permanent location for small businesses.”
It’s an investment in the community. Ernesto sighed, acknowledging the futility of insisting. In his 15 years as her assistant, he had never seen Carmen so resolute. Something or someone had profoundly transformed the relentless businesswoman. “The documents for the San Miguel workshop are ready,” he informed her, handing her a special folder. Property transferred to Manuel Sánchez’s name, as requested. Carmen took the folder carefully, as if holding something precious. “Thank you, Ernesto, and thank you for your loyalty all these years.” “It sounds like a farewell, ma’am.”
“It’s not goodbye,” Carmen smiled. “It’s a new beginning for everyone.” When Ernesto left, Carmen looked out the window at the garden. The fence separating her property from Manuel’s was completely repaired. Now, ironically, that physical division between properties was the only thing that remained untouched between them. Despite seeing Lucía regularly, who visited her every afternoon to share stories and learn to dance, Manuel had kept his distance. The wound of mistrust was still open, and Carmen understood that only time and actions could heal it.
The doorbell interrupted her thoughts. When she opened it, she was surprised to find Soledad, the elderly woman who occasionally looked after Lucía. “Excuse the intrusion,” the woman said in a kind but determined voice. She needed to meet the famous Carmen in person. Carmen invited her in, intrigued by this unexpected visit. “Lucía talks about you constantly,” Soledad continued, accepting the tea Carmen offered her. “And I’ve noticed certain changes in Manuel, changes that only a restless heart can bring about. Doña Soledad, you don’t need to explain anything to me, my dear.”
I’ve lived in this town for 70 years. I recognize true love when I see it, even when it comes disguised as complications. Carmen smiled at the old woman’s straightforward wisdom. Complications seem to be my specialty lately. Manuel is a good man, but Beatriz’s abandonment left deep scars, not only on him, but also on the little girl. I know this, and I fear I’ve caused further wounds with my mistakes. Soledad took a sip of tea, watching her with eyes that seemed to pierce through any barrier.
Do you know why I’m really here? Because today is Lucía’s birthday. There will be a small celebration in Manuel’s garden at sunset. Carmen’s heart skipped a beat. She had been so immersed in restructuring her company that she had lost track of time. Lucía’s birthday, the one for which Manuel had hesitated about what gift to buy when he was repairing the fence months ago. “I haven’t been invited,” Carmen murmured ruefully. “Manuel is proud, but he’s not stupid,” Soledad replied, getting up.
“And Lucía only asked for one birthday wish: that you be here.” When the old woman left, Carmen stood motionless, holding the folder with the workshop’s deed. Perhaps, after all, she had found the perfect gift for the occasion. Manuel mechanically arranged garlands in the garden. His mind wandered between the present and what could have been. The last few weeks had been an emotional rollercoaster: the betrayal revealed, the wounded pride, but also the surprising news that Autofast had radically changed its pricing policy, allowing local workshops to compete on a level playing field once again.
“Dad, Carmen is coming to my party.” Lucía interrupted his thoughts, clutching her favorite dress. “I don’t know, sweetheart. I haven’t invited her, but she’s my friend, and you said we invite our friends to birthday parties.” Childish logic, relentless and pure. Manuel crouched down to his daughter’s eye level. “Things between adults are sometimes complicated, Lucía. Are you still mad that she’s rich?” The girl looked at him with a seriousness beyond her years. “Grandma Soledad says that misplaced pride is the enemy of happiness.”
Manuel couldn’t help but smile at the borrowed wisdom. Grandmother Soledad had said that. Yes. And she also said that your eyes shine when you talk about Carmen, just like they used to when you talked about Mom. That observation left him speechless. So obvious was what he felt, so transparent his heart, that even an old woman and a little girl could read it like an open book. The ringing of the telephone interrupted the moment. It was Alejandro from the bank with disconcerting news about the ownership of the workshop.
Manuel listened, not fully grasping the legal implications, but understanding the essentials. The building where his business operated now belonged to him. A complete transfer of ownership, no conditions, no fine print. As he hung up, his first thought was of Carmen. Only she could be behind this extraordinary gesture. “Who called, Dad?” asked Lucía, oblivious to the emotional storm shaking her father. “The bank with unexpected news.” Manuel looked at his daughter, making a sudden decision. “Lucía, would you like to personally invite Carmen to your birthday party?”
The little girl’s smile lit up the garden more than all the garlands combined. Carmen eyed the envelope in her hands apprehensively. Inside was the workshop paper, her gift for Manuel, along with a personal letter explaining her actions and feelings. She had decided to give them to him at Lucía’s party if she found the courage to attend. The sound of hurried footsteps and a child’s voice calling her name pulled her from her thoughts. Opening the door, she found Lucía holding a colorful, handmade card.
“I’m inviting you to my birthday party!” the little girl exclaimed, proudly holding out the card. “It’s today, and there will be cake and presents and music to dance to.” Carmen received the invitation with trembling hands. “Lucía, I don’t know if your dad let me invite you,” the girl interrupted. “He said it’s my birthday, and I decide who comes, and I want you there.” Faced with such determination, Carmen could only nod. “I’ll be there with your present.” “Yes.” Lucía jumped for joy. “We’ll start when the sun sets.”
Dad says it will be magical. When the little girl ran off, Carmen felt a mixture of joy and nervousness. After weeks of self-imposed distance, she would face Manuel again in an intimate, familiar setting—the opportunity she had waited for to heal wounds and perhaps, just perhaps, start anew. Manuel’s garden had been transformed. Small lights hung from the trees. Makeshift tables held refreshments and snacks, and a handful of children ran about laughing. The few adults present—close neighbors, parents of Lucía’s friends, and the ever-present loneliness—were engaged in animated conversation.
Carmen stopped in front of the fence, hesitating for a moment before opening the small gate. She carried a package wrapped with a ribbon, a bicycle, the dream Lucía had mentioned so many times, and the envelope containing the workshop’s deed and the letter for Manuel. “I thought you weren’t coming.” Manuel was standing in front of her, holding the gate open. His initially unreadable expression gradually softened. “Lucía invited me personally,” Carmen replied. “I couldn’t let her down.” “You never have,” Manuel admitted.
Unlike other adults in her life, you’ve always kept your promises to her. Carmen understood the unspoken meaning. Manuel, despite everything that’s happened, didn’t interrupt her now. “It’s Lucia’s party. She deserves a happy day, free of adult complications. Shall we talk later?” Carmen nodded, grateful for the temporary truce. “I brought this for her.” She gestured to the large package. “I hope it’s appropriate.” Manuel smiled for the first time. “The bicycle she wanted so badly, I suppose. How did you know?”
Because I know her, just as I’ve come to know you, Carmen Álvarez, despite all the secrets and complications. The party unfolded with the carefree joy that only children know how to create. Lucía was radiant, especially when she discovered that both her father and Carmen had given her the same gift: two identical bicycles. “Now the three of us can go for rides together,” she exclaimed, finding the perfect solution to what others would see as a problem. Carmen and Manuel exchanged knowing glances from opposite sides of the garden, united by their love for that little girl who saw possibilities where adults only saw obstacles.
When the cake with the candles appeared, everyone gathered around Lucía. The little girl closed her eyes tightly before blowing them out, concentrating intently on her wish. “What did you wish for?” one of her friends asked when the candles blew out. “I can’t say, or it won’t come true,” Lucía replied seriously, though her eyes glanced significantly toward Carmen and Manuel. The celebration continued until the children, exhausted from the games and excitement, began to leave with their parents.
Finally, only Lucía remained, fast asleep on the living room sofa, and the two adults silently tidying up the remnants of the party. “It’s been a perfect day for her,” Carmen remarked as she folded tablecloths. “It has been,” Manuel agreed. “Thank you for coming. It meant a lot.” Carmen mustered all her courage and held out the envelope she had kept hidden all afternoon. “This is for you. It’s not a birthday present, but rather restitution.” Manuel opened the envelope curiously, examining the documents with growing surprise.
The deed to the workshop, in my name, made him look up, confused. “I don’t understand.” “It’s yours, Manuel, no strings attached, no fine print. The bank must have informed you of the legal transfer today.” “Why would you do something like this?” “Because it was the right thing to do,” Carmen replied simply, “because it was never my intention to own something so important to you without your knowledge. And because I have my doubts, because I want to build something between us based on truth, not secrets.” Manuel studied the documents in silence, processing the implications of the gesture.
There’s also a letter, Carmen pointed out. You can read it when you’re alone. I’ll read it now if you don’t mind. Manuel opened the second document, reading the words Carmen had written with an open heart. Words about regret and hope, about discovering the true value of simple things, about a powerful executive who found her lost humanity thanks to a broken fence, and a little girl with eyes full of hope. When he finished, Manuel carefully folded the letter and put it in his pocket close to his heart.
“You’ve changed,” she finally said. “We all change, Manuel. Sometimes we need someone special to show us the way.” Manuel took a step toward her, closing some of the physical and emotional distance between them. “Do you know what Lucía told me today? That her greatest wish was that the three of our bikes—yours, mine, and hers—could go out together on Sundays.” A familiar vision, Carmen smiled. Yes, the vision of a child who sees possibilities where adults only see complications.
Manuel gently took Carmen’s hand. “I’ve been thinking a lot these past few weeks about pride, forgiveness, and second chances. Have you come to any conclusions?” Manuel nodded. “That life is too short to let pride keep us from being happy, that we all deserve the chance to make amends for our mistakes, and that despite everything, what I feel for you is stronger than any hurt.” Carmen held her breath, afraid of breaking the spell of the moment. “It won’t be easy,” Manuel continued.
We come from different worlds. There will be obstacles, misunderstandings, adjustments. We’ll face them together, Carmen concluded. One day at a time. On the sofa, Lucía smiled in her sleep as her birthday wish began to materialize before her eyes. Two adults, initially separated by a fence and a whole world of differences, were finally finding their way to each other, united by the only thing that truly mattered: love in its purest form. A broken fence had been the beginning. And now, under the stars that shone over San Martín, that same repaired fence was a silent witness to how two seemingly incompatible worlds could, after all, become one.
END.
