8. Miguel Benites
932 Words
The day started like any other: with a cup of bitter coffee and a stack of reports that never seemed to shrink. Benites Security showed no mercy—and neither did I. Meeting after meeting, demanding clients, employees in need of guidance… sometimes I wondered if any of it was worth it. But it was my responsibility, my legacy. And at the end of the day, it was all I had.
“Mr. Benites, the GlobalTech representatives are in the conference room,” my secretary announced, pulling me out of my thoughts. She was the only person in the company who still looked at me with something close to kindness, as if she knew that behind the grumpy CEO façade, there was just a tired man.
“Thank you,” I replied, standing from my desk. “Tell them I’ll be there in five minutes.”
She nodded, but before leaving, she gave me a concerned look.
“Have you had lunch yet, Mr. Benites?”
“There’s no time,” I answered shortly, adjusting my tie.
The meetings dragged on for hours. Negotiations, numbers, projections… everything blurred together in a haze of exhaustion. By the time I finally returned to my office, the sun was beginning to set, casting orange tones across the city.
I sat down, feeling the weight of the day settle on my shoulders. My eyes drifted to the framed photo I kept in a discreet corner of my desk. There she was—my wife—smiling in that way only she could. The ache in my chest tightened, as it always did.
When did everything go wrong? I thought, staring at the picture.
When did I become this shadow of the man she loved?
The office door opened softly, and she stepped in carrying a cup of tea.
“I thought you might need this,” she said, placing it in front of me. The scent of chamomile was comforting, but not even that could ease the weight I carried.
“Thank you,” I murmured, wrapping both hands around the cup.
“Mr. Benites, the new nanny arrives tomorrow. Would you like the company car to pick her up from the airport?” she asked, her tone gentle—the one she used when she knew I was close to my limit.
I glanced at the photo again, a familiar tightness settling in my chest.
Would she have liked knowing we’re bringing someone to take care of Giulia?
I pushed the thought away. There was no room for sentimentality in my life.
“Yes, have the car pick her up,” I said with a tired sigh.
“Maybe Giulia would like to go to the airport to welcome her,” she suggested with a soft smile. “It’s a tradition in the au pair program for the family to receive the nanny. I think it would be good for her.”
I hesitated for a moment, but I knew she was right. Giulia deserved some sense of normalcy—even if I no longer knew how to give it to her. And maybe meeting in a public place would make things easier for all of us.
“Alright. I’ll talk to her tonight,” I agreed, feeling a small weight lift from my shoulders. Dona Marta always knew what to say.
When I got home, the smell of fresh bread filled the air. Giulia was in the kitchen, sitting at the table with Maria, our housekeeper. They were laughing about something, and the sound of my daughter’s laughter made my chest tighten in a way I couldn’t explain.
“Daddy!” Giulia shouted, running toward me. She wrapped her small arms around me as tightly as she could, and I knelt down to her level.
“Hey, princess. What are you up to?” I asked, trying to hide the exhaustion in my voice.
“We’re making a snack! Maria taught me how to make grilled cheese sandwiches,” she said, her smile lighting up her face.
“Sounds delicious,” I said, standing and walking over to the table. Maria greeted me with a nod, and I returned it with a tired smile.
“Daddy, is the new nanny arriving tomorrow?” Giulia asked, sitting back down.
“Yes, princess. She’s coming from Brazil,” I replied, taking a seat beside her. “I thought you might want to go to the airport to welcome her.”
Her eyes lit up with excitement.
“Can we make a welcome sign?” she suggested, with an enthusiasm I hadn’t seen in a long time.
I looked at her, feeling a smile form despite myself.
“Of course we can. Let’s make the best welcome sign ever.”
Giulia smiled, and for a moment, the weight of the day felt a little lighter. Maybe—just maybe—I could still get something right.
Maybe I could finally walk away from the drinking… and focus on my family. On what truly matters.
We were finishing drawing pizzas on a pink poster board when my phone rang, and my ex-mother-in-law’s number flashed on the screen.
My fingers tensed as I remembered her harsh criticism, the way she threatened me, the way she spoke about me in front of Giulia.
How would she react when she found out I was hiring a nanny to help with my daughter?
She would lose it. No doubt about that.
I looked at the screen one more time—and decided not to fight that battle today.
I declined the call.
- Writer
