A multimillionaire saw his ex-girlfriend, whom he had left six years earlier, waiting for an Uber with three children who looked exactly like him. What he didn’t know was that those children were Julián Castañeda. He had just left a meeting in Polanco, one of those endless meetings where everyone feels important and talks as if they were saving the world. He just wanted to get out of there. He got into his armored SUV, gave his driver his usual instructions, and took out his cell phone to check messages as they drove down a somewhat congested street. He glanced out the window without much interest.
That’s when he saw her. There she was, standing on the sidewalk right in front of a pharmacy, looking tired and a little desperate. Her hair was hastily pulled back, she was wearing simple clothes, and she was clutching a half-torn shopping bag. Beside her were three children, all identical: same eyes, same mouth, same expression. They were looking around as if waiting for something to happen, and those eyes were his. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be. He leaned forward to get a better look, but just then another car cut in between them, and the image disappeared.
“Stop!” Julián shouted. The driver slammed on the brakes and turned around, worried. Julián opened the door without waiting for a response, got out at street level, and looked around desperately. The sidewalk was crowded as always, but she wasn’t there anymore. He walked quickly through the pedestrians, searching for her, ignoring the comments of those who recognized him. His heart was pounding. It was her. It was Valeria. And those children. After a few minutes, he saw her crossing the street hand in hand with the three children, getting into a gray car that was clearly an Uber. He froze, feeling his stomach clench.
He didn’t know whether to run, scream her name, or just let her go. The car started and disappeared into the afternoon traffic. Julián didn’t move; he just stood there, watching how that scene had left him trembling. He returned to his truck almost automatically. He didn’t say anything. The driver looked at him in the rearview mirror, but Julián didn’t say a word. He was completely out of it. The only thing he could think about was those three children with the same face as him. He grabbed his forehead, closed his eyes, and let out a sigh that came from the depths of his soul.
He hadn’t seen Six years have passed since that early morning when he decided to leave without saying goodbye to Valeria. He didn’t leave her a single message, nothing. They were fine, yes, but he had plans. He was about to close a deal that would change everything. He left thinking she would understand, that there would be time later to fix things, but that time never came. The car continued on its way to his apartment in Santa Fe. When he arrived, Julián angrily took off his jacket and threw it onto the sofa. He poured himself a drink, even though it wasn’t even 5 a.m. yet.
Late, he paced back and forth, remembering everything he had experienced with Valeria: her laughter, the way she gazed at him when he talked about his dreams, the way she hugged him when he came home late and just wanted to sleep. Then he thought about those children—how could they be so much like him? He picked up his phone and searched social media. Nothing, not a photo, not a clue. Valeria had vanished from the digital world as if she had never existed. This made him feel strange because he had tried to forget her, but deep down, he
never could. It was the kind of love you keep locked away in a little box you never want to open again because you know it will hurt. He sat down at his computer, opened an encrypted folder where he kept personal files, and looked for old photos. There they were: Valeria at the beach, Valeria in her apartment, Valeria with her dog, Valeria in pajamas, laughing with her mouth full of popcorn. He looked at them one by one until he came across one where she was hugging him from behind, her face pressed against his neck. She had taken the photo herself with her phone.
He stared at it for a long time and then pursed his lips. He knew what he had to do. Julián called his assistant, Mateo. “I need you to find someone. Her name is Valeria Ortega. I don’t have an address. I only know she lives in Mexico City and has three children. And one more thing: could those children be mine?” There was an awkward silence on the other end of the line. “Understood, sir,” Mateo said. He hung up and stared out the window at the city—thousands of lights, thousands of people. But at that moment, only one mattered to him. He didn’t know if she was angry, if she hated him, or if she had simply moved on.
But he couldn’t leave those children like this. He couldn’t live with the doubt because if they were what he thought, then his life was about to change completely. The next morning, he woke up with only one thing on his mind: to find her. And this time, he wasn’t going to leave without answers. Julián didn’t sleep well that night. He tossed and turned, stared at the ceiling, then got up, walked around the apartment, threw himself back down on the sheets, closed his eyes, and saw that scene again: Valeria standing in the street with her three children, so similar to him that it even hurt.
It was as if his past had suddenly returned without warning. He would have slapped her right in the face the next day. Before 8 a.m., he was already in his office. His team greeted him as always, respectfully, with forced smiles. He barely responded. He went straight to his office, closed the door, and stared out the window. The whole city continued with its routine: cars, people, noise, but inside, everything was chaos. He sat down at his desk, grabbed his cell phone, and started checking social media again. He searched for his name, his face.
There was no trace of Valeria, not on Facebook, not on Instagram, not anywhere. It was as if she had vanished into thin air. That only made him angrier. How could someone disappear so easily? How could he, with all his resources, have no idea about anything? Mateo arrived with coffee and some papers. Julián barely looked at him. “Something?” he asked bluntly. “Not yet, boss. We’re tracking her down using birth certificates and school records. But if she changed her address and last name, it’s going to take a while.” Julián nodded. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation. When Mateo left, he was alone again.
He rested his elbows on the desk, grabbed his head with both hands, and closed his eyes. Memories began to flood back, as if someone were showing him a movie. He saw himself six years earlier, younger, less tired, with that ambition that practically oozed from his pores. At that time, he and Valeria lived together in a small apartment in Narbarte. They didn’t have luxuries, but they had everything they needed. He worked from home, putting together presentations, looking for investors, trying to launch his first company. She was a preschool teacher. She would arrive
exhausted, but always with a smile. They would laugh. They’d order pizza at night for silly things, sometimes they couldn’t afford gas, and they’d shower with cold water, but they were together, and that was enough back then. But then an opportunity arose: a foreign fund wanted to invest in his project, but he had to move to Monterrey for a year. That’s when everything changed. He asked her to come with him, but she said she couldn’t leave her job, her students, everything she had. They argued many times, each argument growing louder, until one early morning, without a word, he grabbed his backpack, his
laptop, a few papers, and left. He left her a silly note that said, “I’m sorry, I can’t stay.” That’s how cowardly he was. He never heard from her again. He thought about writing to her several times, but he always put it off. Then his company exploded. The Tonis, the trips, the millions, the interviews, the luxuries arrived, but sometimes when he was alone, he remembered Valeria, and it hurt. Now all of that was coming back as if no time had passed, as if life were telling him, “You’re not finished with this chapter.” Julian stood up from his chair and walked to the wall where he had a display case filled with mementos, awards, photos with politicians, and recognitions from businesspeople. But there was a small box tucked away at the back, filled with things he hadn’t touched in years. He took it down, placed it on the table, and opened it. Inside were a red string bracelet that Valeria had given him when they were starting out, a handwritten letter in her handwriting, a movie ticket, and an old, positive pregnancy test. He stared at it, his blood running cold. He didn’t remember putting it away; maybe she had left it there.
Before he left, maybe back then he didn’t want to understand, but now, seeing that proof and remembering the children, everything made sense. She had been pregnant, and he had left. He sat down again, stared at the ceiling, feeling anger, sadness, guilt—all mixed together. He didn’t know what hurt more: having left her alone at that moment or having missed six years of those children’s lives. His cell phone vibrated; it was a message from Mateo. It said, “We found something. I’ll send you the address in five minutes.
” Julián stared at the screen, took a deep breath. He knew that message would take him straight to the place where everything changed. What he didn’t know was if he was ready to face it. Julián arrived at the address Mateo had sent him an hour later. He didn’t want a driver. He drove alone in his truck with the music off and his hands sweating on the steering wheel. The area wasn’t dangerous, but it wasn’t like the places he used to go either. Now there were potholed streets, taco stands, people sitting outside houses, children playing soccer barefoot. When he parked the truck, he stood for
a few seconds looking at the old building with peeling paint. But it didn’t look abandoned. He checked the number twice; it was there. He looked toward the third floor. He didn’t know which apartment she lived in, but something in his chest told him she was there. At that moment, he didn’t dare go up. He thought about knocking, but he didn’t know what to say. “Hi, I’m the idiot who got you pregnant six years ago.” He laughed half-heartedly, ran a hand over his face, and decided to wait. Mateo had told him she left for work every day around 4:00. It was 3:30, so he stayed in the car, staring at the building as if it were an enemy. At 4:00 sharp, the building door opened. Valeria came out with the three children. They were all neatly combed and carrying small backpacks, walking like soldiers. She had a large bag over her shoulder and her cell phone in her hand.
They were walking toward the corner where the minibuses passed. Julián got out of the car without thinking; his legs moved on their own. He crossed the street, caught up with them on the sidewalk, and when he was less than three meters away, he said her name: Valeria. She turned around immediately and froze.
The children stopped too. Looking at him curiously, the silence lasted a few seconds that seemed like hours. She didn’t say anything, she just stared at him as if she couldn’t believe she was there. “Can we talk?” Julián said in a low but firm voice. Valeria lowered her gaze, didn’t greet him, didn’t ask anything, she just told the children to go ahead and wait at the corner store. They obeyed without saying a word. Then she looked him straight in the eyes. “What are you doing here?” Julián swallowed hard.
He knew where to start. “I saw you a few days ago. Were you waiting for an Uber with them?” She didn’t answer, she just kept looking at him, not fearfully, but very coldly. “Don’t tell me it was by chance that you found me,” he finally said in a dry tone, “because I don’t believe you at all.” “It was just a coincidence that day,” he replied quickly, “but not today. Today I came because I need to know. To know if they’re mine.” Valeria crossed her arms and took a deep breath as if she were holding back a scream. “And if they are, then what? What are you going to do? Are you going to take them away? Are you going to take them out of their lives and put them in yours, full of luxuries and things they don’t even understand? I don’t just want to get to know them, to know about them. I didn’t know anything, Valeria.” She looked at him with shining eyes, but didn’t cry a single tear. “You didn’t know? Why didn’t you care about staying? Why did you leave as if I didn’t exist? You didn’t even ask if I was okay. You left me with a note from Julián.” He lowered his gaze. He had no way to defend himself against that. “You’re right,” he said, barely audible. “And now what? Are you coming here to play the repentant father, the man who has everything and wants to fill the void with something he abandoned?” “I’m not here to do anything. I’m here to
take on whatever I have to take on. If they’re mine, I want to be here, not to take them away from you, not to change their lives.” Just to be there, Valeria looked at him with a mixture of anger and sadness. Then she saw the children who were already calling her from the little store. She looked at her watch. “I have to go. I work at 5. I don’t have time for this.” “Can I see you another day?” he asked, almost begging. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I want that. I don’t know if I want to bring you into our lives again. It was so hard for us to get ahead. Just one more time, a coffee, a neutral place. You choose.” She hesitated. She thought about it for a few seconds,
then took out her cell phone, opened the notes app, and wrote something. She showed him the screen: “Tomorrow at 6 at that coffee shop. If you’re a minute late, I’m leaving.” Julián nodded. She turned around without saying anything else, went to get her children, took all three of their hands, and walked away as if nothing had happened. He stood there, feeling like a huge stone had been placed on his chest, but he also felt something else. There was a small opportunity, but there it was. Julián couldn’t concentrate on anything for the rest of the day. He canceled a meeting with investors, ignored his fiancée’s messages, and locked himself in his apartment.
He paced the living room like a lion. He was trapped inside, phone in hand, checking the cafe’s address every five minutes as if it were about to disappear. He had a date with Valeria the next day, but his mind couldn’t wait any longer. Something inside him wouldn’t let him rest; he had to know more. He poured himself a whiskey neat, took a long sip, and sat down at his computer. He checked his email, found Mateo’s direct contact, and sent him a short message: “I need to know more about Valeria. Anything you can find about schools.”
Children, work, anything urgent. Not even five minutes had passed when Mateo called him. “Are you sure, boss? This could be delicate. Do it. I want to know if they’re mine. I’m not going to wait for her to tell me.” Mateo hesitated but agreed. They hung up, and Julián stayed there staring at the screen. His fingers were trembling. He knew it wasn’t right, that he was crossing a line, but he couldn’t help it. He had that feeling in his stomach, that mix of anxiety and fear. Something inside him was screaming that those children were his. He didn’t need proof; he had
seen them. It was like looking in a mirror divided into three. He tried to sleep for a while, but it was useless. He went on social media again with no results. Then he Googled, “How to know if a child is your son or daughter without official proof?” The answers were absurd. He shut everything down and threw himself on the couch, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. The clock read 2 a.m. The next day dawned with a light fog. Julián got up early, more out of nerves than habit. He showered, changed his shirt three times, and left more than an hour
early. He arrived at the café, asked for a table in the corner away from the windows, and sat down, his leg bouncing. He checked his watch every two minutes. People were coming and going, but Valeria hadn’t arrived. When it was 10 minutes to 6, he thought she wasn’t coming. His heart sank, but right at 6 o’clock sharp, the door opened, and there she was. She was alone, wearing a simple blouse, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wasn’t wearing makeup or accessories, just her, as always. Julián remembered her. He stood up without saying a word. Valeria approached, sat down across from him, and looked him
straight in the eye. “You have 15 minutes,” she said. He nodded, sat back down, and took a breath. “Thank you for coming. I didn’t do it for you,” she said immediately. “I did it to drop off my things.” “Clear.” Julián lowered his gaze for a second and then looked back at her. “I want to know if the children are mine. I’m not here out of remorse or guilt. I’m here because I need to know the truth. And if I tell you yes, what are you going to do? Support them, be a part of their lives, even if you don’t want me around?” She looked at him with a serious face. “You can’t arrive six years late and pretend that everything will just fall into place. You don’t know what this has been like, raising them alone, working in…”
