He wanted to surprise her romantically, arrive early, and see her smile at the unexpected gesture. But when Rafael opened the mansion’s front door, the bouquet slipped from his hands and fell to the marble floor, scattering water and petals at his feet. What he saw then not only shattered the surprise he had planned but also the entire future he had envisioned.
There stood Barbara, his girlfriend, impeccably dressed in designer clothes, her hair perfectly styled, her face contorted in an expression of pure hatred the likes of which Rafael had never seen. And at his feet, sprawled on the cold hall floor, lay Doña Marta, his mother, the 68-year-old woman who had raised him alone, who had worked for years to give him an education, who had never raised her voice against anyone in her entire life, huddled there, her face marked by tears and blood trickling from a cut on her forehead.
“Please…” Doña Marta murmured in a thread of fear. “Please, don’t separate me from my son. I beg you.” Time seemed to have frozen.
Rafael remained frozen for only two seconds, his mind trying to process the impossibility of what his eyes were seeing. The woman he was to marry the next day, the woman who for months had called his mother “Mom” with such affection, the woman who brought gifts, who hugged Doña Marta with apparent tenderness, who pretended to be the perfect daughter-in-law… it was all a lie. All of it.
Rafael’s shout echoed through the mansion with such force that Barbara stopped mid-stride, refusing to lift her foot again. She turned her face, and for the first time in months, Rafael saw true terror in her eyes. Not terror at what she was doing, but terror at having been discovered.
Rafael ran. His firm steps crossed the hall in seconds, treading on rose petals and shards of glass without realizing it. He knelt beside his mother, his trembling hands gently touching her wounded face.
“Mom, my God, what has he done to you? How did we get to this painful moment?” Rafael asked, his heart breaking. “How can a girlfriend who seemed so perfect hide such cruelty?”
To understand this farce that lasted for months, we must go back to the beginning, when Bárbara seemed like the perfect daughter-in-law, at least in Rafael’s eyes. Rafael Álvarez’s life was always marked by two absolute certainties: unconditional love for his mother, Doña Marta, and gratitude for the sacrifice she made to raise him alone.
After his father passed away when Rafael was just 12 years old, Doña Marta worked tirelessly as a seamstress, ironer, and even as a domestic servant in private homes. All to ensure her son had an education and opportunities. “My son will amount to something,” she used to say with an unwavering faith that only a mother can possess. And Rafael did not disappoint her.
He graduated with a degree in business administration, built his own business empire, and by 35, owned one of the city’s largest technology companies. But success never went to his head. He brought Doña Marta to live in the mansion he had bought, gave her all the comforts she had never known, and never forgot the nights his mother cried silently, worried about how to pay the bills.
Marina was practically part of the family. The daughter of Doña Célia, the maid who had worked in the house since Rafael bought the mansion, Marina had grown up playing with Rafael since childhood. Now, at 28, she was a nurse in a public hospital, caring for the poorest patients with a compassion reminiscent of Doña Marta.
Marina had kind brown eyes, brown hair pulled back in a practical ponytail, and a smile that lit up any room. She and Rafael shared a strong friendship, built over years of trust and mutual affection. Continue reading…
