“Pretend You Love Me, Please…” — Powerful CEO Begged Single Dad Right In Front Of His Ex.
It’s over, Lucía, you won. No! she whispered with a mixture of relief and sadness. I didn’t win, I just survived. That night, as they walked along the port, Lucía looked at the lights reflected in the water. The sea was calm, but the waves still carried the echo of the storm. “Do you know what I’ve learned from all this, Miguel?” she asked.
“Tell me. The truth doesn’t free you from your wounds, but it teaches you to live with them.” He looked at her tenderly. And it also teaches you to love without fear. Lucía stopped and stared at him. To love without fear. I don’t know if I can. Yes, you can, Miguel said, caressing her face. Because you already do. Lucía felt herself breaking inside.
If it weren’t for you, I would have given up a long time ago. And if it weren’t for you, I would still believe my life was worthless. The wind blew gently, moving her hair. Miguel took her hand. Lucía, the storm is over. But there’s one last thing we must do. Close this chapter for real.
The next morning, they went to court together to present the documents proving Lucía’s innocence. Derek, handcuffed and blank-eyed, was escorted by two officers. When their eyes met, he murmured, “I never thought you’d go this far.” Lucía looked at him without rancor. “Because you never understood that the truth doesn’t need power. Only time.” He lowered his head.
For the first time, Derek Salvatierra seemed human, defeated not by justice, but by his own arrogance. That night, Lucía and Miguel had dinner with Sofía at home. Amid laughter and anecdotes, the atmosphere was warm and familiar. Sofía, with her innocence, raised her sumo cup and said, “To the rainbows that come after the rain.”
Lucía and Miguel clinked glasses and laughed. The clock struck 11. Outside, it was starting to drizzle. Lucía got up, went to the balcony, and looked at the sky. The smell of wet earth reminded her of something she’d forgotten. Life, even when it hurts, always continues to flourish. She returned to the living room where Miguel was playing with Sofía and whispered to herself.
Sometimes we fake love to survive, and we end up finding the real thing without realizing it. I knew there was still one more step to go, the final one: reconciling with myself and the past. The story wasn’t over yet, but this time Lucía wasn’t walking alone. The spring sun bathed the streets of Valencia with a clean, almost symbolic glow. After months of storms, everything seemed back to normal.
The newspapers spoke of the Sofía Foundation as a model of transparency. Derek Salvatierra had been convicted of fraud and forgery, and people were once again looking at Lucía with respect, but she no longer needed anyone’s admiration. That morning, she got up early and walked to the port. The air smelled of salt and hope.
In the distance, fishermen were pulling in their nets while seagulls cried over the sea. Lucía took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t afraid of being happy. Miguel appeared at her side with two coffees. “I thought I’d find you here,” he said, offering her one. “How did you know? Because when the sea is calm, you always come to listen to it.”
Lucía smiled. “I need to remind myself that noise isn’t life, that sometimes stillness also has its music.” Miguel watched her for a moment. “Have you become a philosopher?” “No, just a woman who has learned to live without masks.” They sat in silence, watching the sun slowly rise. Sofía played nearby, throwing pebbles into the water.
“Look,” Lucía said, “It seems like she’s searching for her reflection or trying to understand the world,” Miguel added, “Like we did.” Lucía looked at him. “Have you understood?” He smiled. “All I know is that love isn’t a contract or a promise, it’s a daily choice.” The weeks passed peacefully. The Sofía Foundation grew, opening new locations in Albacete and Zaragoza.
Miguel began coordinating a job placement program for single parents. Sofía, always smiling, had become the lifeblood of the project. One afternoon, Lucía organized a public talk entitled “Pretend to Survive, Love to Live.” The auditorium was packed.
She took the stage without notes or a script. It began a year ago. I asked a stranger to pretend to love me for five minutes. The audience laughed intrigued. I never imagined those five minutes would change my entire life. A pause. Because when we pretend out of fear, we sometimes discover the truth we fear most: that we do deserve to be loved. The audience listened attentively.
“I’ve lost reputation, power, and money,” she continued. “But in return, I found something that can’t be bought or negotiated. The peace of knowing who I am.” The applause was long and sincere. Miguel watched her from the front row with silent pride. Lucía stepped off the stage and, seeing him, winked. “What did you think of my improvised speech?” “Perfect,” he replied. “Sincere like you.”
That night they celebrated at home with a simple dinner, candlelight, laughter, wine, and soft music. Sofía, half asleep, curled up on the couch. Lucía covered her with a blanket and kissed her forehead. “You know what?” Miguel said. “Sometimes I think about how ironic it all was. Why? Because you wanted to pretend love to protect yourself, and I pretended security to help you.”