Crossed Desires

TALKING BUSINESS

Miguel

Half an hour later, I arrived at my parents' house. As soon as I walked in, my mother welcomed me with a warm embrace and a kiss.

"Darling, what a joy to see you! Why didn't you tell me you were coming? I would have prepared your favorite breakfast..." she said.

I laughed. My mother was always so thoughtful, always going out of her way. If it weren't for the fact that she accepts my girlfriend, everything would be perfect.

"Don't worry, Mother. I thought Father had told you," I replied.

Just then, my father came down the stairs. We both turned to look at him as he approached me and wrapped me in a strong, heartfelt hug.

"Hello, son. How are you this morning?" he said, patting my back affectionately.

"I'm fine, Dad," I answered.

Then, turning to my mother, he added:

"Yes, I did tell your son," he said to her. "I spoke with him yesterday afternoon and he told me he'd be coming. But I got back very late last night from the meeting with Henry about the Ohio consortium, and by the time I arrived you were already asleep. I didn't want to wake you, love."

She smiled at him, kissed him, and took his hands to lead him away.

"Well, it doesn't matter. The important thing is that he's here, darling. Let's have breakfast before it gets cold," my mother said.

We all sat at the dining table, and my mother called her maid:

"Prisila, please bring another place setting for my son; he'll be having breakfast with us," she called out.

Prisila, who had been with us for as long as I could remember—ever since my parents got married—responded promptly:

"Yes, ma'am."

A few minutes later, breakfast was served. We ate mostly in silence until my mother broke the ice and asked my father:

"Love, what did you talk about with Henry?"

I didn't ask anything—I could already imagine the answer. Every time Henry's name came up, it was always the same.

"About everything," my father replied between bites. "Business matters, the new investments under Brat's responsibility, the expansion of the Ohio consortium—we now have several new branches, more cases regarding the company. He also mentioned wanting to strengthen ties and integrate shares."

I lowered my gaze, frowning so they wouldn't notice how much this annoyed me.

"And," my father went on, "he said he would very much like my son to court his daughter. He believes either Brat or you would be a good match for her."

I clenched my jaw and swallowed hard. I knew it. Always the same thing. And yet I still hadn't told them I wanted to get engaged to Gabi. Irritated, I replied:

"Father, please—you know I have a girlfriend. We've been together for three years, and I am deeply in love with her."

"Oh, come on," he scoffed. "I don't really believe in that relationship, nor in your speech about being so 'in love.' If that were true, where is she?" He gestured with his hands as if pointing out her absence. "We've never even seen her. Frankly, I doubt this so-called girlfriend of yours even exists. Perhaps you're only saying that to avoid a real commitment."

They always lived in denial, refusing to accept that I had a girlfriend. I had never introduced her because my mother flatly refused to meet her. She claimed it wasn't serious, and that it wasn't worth wasting her time on something so fleeting.

"She does exist. I haven't introduced her because Mother doesn't want me to. Need I remind you?" I retorted.

My father slammed his cutlery onto the plate, clearly displeased with my tone.

"Enough! No more arguing—we're having breakfast. And besides, there's no point in introducing her. It's not serious, so why bother?" my mother said.

She always did the same—changing the subject instead of facing the truth that I was in love with Gabi. How much longer would they go on pretending?

"Mother, it is serious. Just because you refuse to meet her doesn't mean it isn't," I said.

For three years she had been in denial, pretending my relationship didn't exist. Whenever the subject came up, she dodged it, and my father refused to accept it simply because he hadn't met her.

"That's enough. Not another word!" my father raised his voice. "We're having breakfast. Later, we'll talk in the study about business—the things that really matter. Isn't that why you came?"

I sighed, weary of the situation.

"Yes," I answered curtly.

He picked up his cutlery again and went on eating, ignoring the subject.

"Then let's not mention it again. Let's finish breakfast," he said.

We resumed the meal, and my mother began chatting about her week with her friends. She asked about Brat and Jon, and I gave her a quick summary: Jon was dating someone, Brat was doing well at work, and we had gone out to a bar the night before—though Brat was still single.

After breakfast, I followed my father to the study, where we spent the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon discussing the company.

Dear readers, don't forget to vote and share your comments—it motivates me to keep writing for you. With all my love, Francia. I hope you enjoyed this chapter about Miguel.

Stay tuned—the upcoming chapters are going to be intense!