Page 102 of Please, Forgive Me

There was something tense in his voice, something that made me uneasy. Still, I agreed.

I knew this conversation was inevitable. And now, as I waited for him, my thoughts were all over the place.

I was tired—tired of the uncertainty, of the endless push and pull between us. It felt like we’d been stuck on a roller coaster that never stopped, always climbing, always crashing, never letting me breathe.

When the intercom buzzed, my stomach tightened. I took a deep breath before answering and buzzed him in. Diego came up quickly, and when the doorbell rang, I was already waiting at the door.

“Good evening, Maria Gabriela,” he said politely, though his tone carried something else—something that cracked through his usual calm.

“Evening, Diego.”

He took a step forward, ready to come in, but before he could, Max—my loyal four-legged bodyguard—burst into sharp, defensive barks, planting himself between us.

The scene happened so suddenly I couldn’t help but smile.

“I don’t think Max likes you,” I said, trying to lighten the tension. “They say dogs can tell who’s good and who’s not.”

Diego paused, watching the dog for a moment before looking back at me. His eyes were softer than I remembered, like he was searching for the right words.

“Maybe he’s right,” he said quietly.

I froze for a few seconds, letting that sink in. The idea that Diego might actually be admitting his own flaws—even indirectly—wasn’t something I’d expected.

Max kept barking, but less aggressively now, as if he too was weighing the situation.

“Come in,” I finally said, stepping aside.

Max gave a low growl but backed off, allowing Diego to enter.

He walked in, glancing around. It wasn’t his first time here, but now the atmosphere was different. Maybe it was Clara sleeping peacefully in the crib down the hall—or maybe it was the heavy silence hanging between us.

“How is she?” Diego asked, his tone softer, as if he were trying not to sound like the commanding man he usually was.

“Our daughter’s fine,” I said, watching him closely. “She’s asleep right now.”

He looked at me, and for a brief moment, I saw the man behind the cold CEO mask. His eyes looked tired—vulnerable in a way I’d rarely seen.

“I needed to see you,” he admitted, and that surprised me more than anything else he could’ve said.

“Why?” I asked, wary but curious.

Diego hesitated before answering.

“I’m trying to figure out how to… make things right.” He let out a slow breath, as if he’d been carrying the words for a long time. “I know I did a lot of things wrong. I know I can’t change the past. But I want to try—to be a good father to Clara. And…” He faltered, searching for the courage to continue. “Maybe… to be someone better for you too. I don’t expect you to forget what I did, Maria Gabriela. I just want a chance to do things differently from now on.”

My breath caught.

I was still processing it when Max bared his teeth again, as if warning me to be careful.

I looked back at Diego. He was clearly fighting to stay composed, and something in his expression disarmed me—but I couldn’t let that happen again.

“So, Max,” I said to the dog, using sarcasm as a shield, “what do you think of that?”

Diego sighed, frustration creeping into his face.

“I don’t think he likes the idea,” I murmured, my voice tinged with sadness.

“Don’t do that, Maria Gabriela.Please…” Diego started, but I cut him off.