Five

The drive back to my penthouse was a blur. The image of Miguel—his wide eyes, his innocent smile—was etched into my mind. Every detail only cemented what I already knew in my gut. He was mine. He had to be. And yet, Isabela’s hesitation, her defiance, left a lingering doubt that I couldn’t shake.

Once I stepped into the sterile silence of my home, I poured a drink, the amber liquid catching the dim light. It wasn’t about needing courage. It was about calming the storm raging in my chest. For years, I’d prided myself on control, on having the upper hand in every situation. But now, standing alone in the middle of this vast, empty space, I felt unmoored.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Valenti.

“Gabriel,” he answered on the first ring, his voice calm and professional.

“How quickly can the results come back?” I asked, skipping any preamble.

“Assuming we get the samples within the next day or so, we’re looking at a week for accurate results,” he said. “Maybe less if I expedite it.”

“Expedite it,” I said firmly. “I don’t care about the cost.”

“Understood,” Valenti replied. “But Gabriel, are you prepared for whatever the outcome might be?”

The question hung in the air for a moment. Was I? The truth was, I wasn’t sure. If Miguel wasn’t mine, it would feel like losing something I didn’t even know I wanted. And if he was mine? Then I had five years to make up for and a mountain of trust to rebuild with Isabela.

“I’m prepared for the truth,” I said finally, my voice steady.

“I’ll take care of everything,” Valenti assured me before we ended the call.

The next day, I waited for Isabela’s response, my patience thinning with every passing hour. I checked my phone obsessively, alternating between emails, messages, and the clock. By mid-afternoon, I’d had enough. If she wasn’t going to call me, I’d have to make the first move.

I arrived at her building without warning, parking a block away to avoid drawing attention. The walk to her door felt heavier this time, the weight of what I was about to demand pressing on my chest. When she opened the door, her expression shifted from surprise to frustration.

“Gabriel,” she said, her tone clipped. “I said I needed time.”

“And you’ve had it,” I replied. “I’m not here to argue, Isabela. I just want to make sure this happens.”

She hesitated, her hand still on the doorframe as if debating whether to let me in. Finally, she stepped aside, motioning for me to enter.

Miguel’s toys were scattered across the living room floor, and I caught sight of him in the corner, carefully coloring in a book. He glanced up at me briefly, then returned to his drawing, seemingly unbothered by my presence.

“He’s already comfortable around strangers,” I noted, my tone light but edged with curiosity.

“He’s not used to strangers coming uninvited,” she shot back, closing the door behind me.

I turned to face her, my expression serious. “I’m not here to fight with you, Isabela. But this can’t wait forever. The longer we drag this out, the harder it will be for everyone involved.”

She crossed her arms, her posture defensive. “And what happens after the test, Gabriel? What’s your plan if he… if he’s yours?”

“He is mine,” I said firmly. “And if the test confirms it, I want to be in his life. Fully. I’m not going to be a part-time father or some distant figure. He deserves better than that.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You can’t just walk in here and decide how this works. Miguel doesn’t even know who you are.”

“Then let me fix that,” I countered. “I’m not asking for much, Isabela. Just the truth. After that, we can figure out how to move forward.”

For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Her gaze flicked toward Miguel, who was humming quietly to himself as he colored. I saw the conflict in her eyes, the struggle between her instincts to protect him and the inevitability of the situation. Finally, she exhaled sharply and nodded.

“Fine. We’ll do the test.”

Relief washed over me, though I didn’t let it show. Instead, I nodded, keeping my tone even. “Good. I’ll handle everything. You just need to show up.”

“And Miguel?” she asked, her voice softer now. “How do I explain this to him?”

“Tell him it’s just a routine check-up,” I suggested. “He doesn’t need to know the details yet.”

She hesitated, then nodded again. “Okay. But Gabriel, if you think this is going to be easy, you’re mistaken.”

“Nothing worth having is ever easy,” I replied.

Later that evening, as I sat in my office, I couldn’t stop thinking about Miguel. The way he looked up at me with those curious eyes, the way his smile lit up the room. If the test proved he was mine, I wasn’t sure how I’d make up for the years I’d lost. But one thing was certain: I would try.

The truth was coming, and with it, everything would change. For better or worse, I was ready.