Episode 5

✧ Cristian Walker ✧

I woke up early, as I always did.

The sky was still painted a faded blue, and the air had that smell of wet grass from the early morning. I like that. The silence before the world wakes up. The sound of the wind cutting through the treetops and the first steps on the still-cold ground.

I got up, went straight to the bathroom, and did my morning routine. The stubble gave me a more savage look than usual, but I didn't care about that anymore. Then, I went down to the kitchen.

Eduarda, my employee and longtime friend, was already waiting for me with the table set. The smell of strong coffee and toasted bread filled the room.

"Good morning, boss," she said with a gentle smile.

"Good morning, Duda," I replied, sitting on the wooden chair that creaked with age but was more comfortable than any leather armchair.

As I ate, I let my mind wander. But as it has been in recent days, my thoughts always ended up in the same place: Laura.

The way she reappeared. The boy. The way she still looked at me...

I tried to push it away while drinking my coffee, but it was like trying to tame a wild horse without a rope or saddle.

After coffee, I went to saddle Altaneiro, my oldest and proudest horse. He was a strong animal, with a firm temperament, who only accepted my commands. I went riding around the farm, as I did every day. I needed to see how things were going, the tractors, the cowboys, the cattle.

I greeted some workers at the corral, gave quick instructions, observed the movement of the pastures, and breathed in the dry Texas air as if trying to remember who I was before all this.

When I returned to the headquarters and dismounted the horse, I was surprised by Ariana. She was walking firmly, her eyes wide, her breathing accelerated. Her face made it clear: she was angry.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked, pulling Altaneiro by the reins to the shade.

"Cristian..." she began, nervously, "you won't believe what I just heard."

I rolled my eyes, trying not to get irritated right away.

"I won't, if you don't tell me. You always hear things from others, Ariana," I said with a short laugh. "Soon you'll become a journalist."

She crossed her arms, serious.

"With this news I have to tell you, I'm sure I'd sell a lot of newspapers."

"Don't exaggerate," I said, as I began to brush Altaneiro's back with firm movements.

"I'm not exaggerating, Cristian. I'm serious. I saw Laura at the market just now."

Her name froze me inside. But I continued brushing, feigning disinterest.

"She was on the phone, talking to someone," Ariana continued, approaching, "and I heard her say that she 'needed to tell you that the child with her is your son.'"

The brush stopped mid-motion. The air became heavier.

"She said that?" I asked, turning my face slowly.

"Exactly that. And that wasn't all."

Ariana moved closer, lowering her voice.

"She also said that the boy doesn't have a father's name on the birth certificate. That she raised him alone. And now... now she wants to tell you, as if it were a gift. Or rather... as if it were your obligation." She paused briefly, then added: "It seems like a very well thought-out plan, if you want to know. Disappear for five years, show up with a child, wait to see how you react... and suddenly, start spreading that the boy is yours. To me, it's clear. She wants to throw this responsibility on your shoulders."

My blood boiled.

I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath. But control slipped through my hands.

"Are you sure about what you heard?"

"I didn't hear word for word, but I heard enough to understand. She was saying she needed to tell you. That she couldn't hide it anymore. Cristian..." she continued, firmly, "I know this type of woman. I was raised among them. Laura disappeared, went to live her life, and now she wants to come back playing the victim."

"Victim?" I repeated, feeling my stomach churn.

"That's what everyone is already saying. That she came back with a child of an unknown father, stayed in a dive, and is waiting for you to 'take responsibility'. As if it were your obligation. As if you were to blame for her disappearing."

I dropped the brush on the ground and walked away from the horse.

Anger burned inside me.

Five years. Five years without a word.

Without a message, without a letter. And now this?

I went into the house with heavy steps, without saying anything more to Ariana. She stayed out there, probably satisfied to have "helped" me.

I went up to my room, washed my face, and stared into the mirror. The reflection staring back at me looked more like the man who learned to live without her than the one who believed in her love.

"Your son."

The words echoed in my head like thunder.

What if it were true? What if that kid was really mine?

But she didn't have the courage to tell me. She didn't trust me to share this. And now, instead of coming to me like a real woman, she's going around saying it... telling everyone?

"Coward," I said, alone in the room. "You're still a coward."

The image of the boy came to mind.

The way he walked. The dark eyes.

The quiet way he observed everything around him.

My chest tightened.

I slammed the bedroom door, went down the stairs in one go, and got into the truck. I turned the key forcefully. If she wants to make my life a circus... Then I'll be the lion in this arena. And this time, she will hear me.

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