“Pretend You Love Me, Please…” — Powerful CEO Begged Single Dad Right In Front Of His Ex.
“But are you okay?” Lucía turned around. For a second, she didn’t know how to answer. No one had asked her that simple question for years. “I’m tired,” she finally admitted. “I imagined it. You smile a lot, but your eyes are sad.” “And you?” she asked, surprised by her own curiosity. “I have a daughter, her name is Sofía.
“When he smiles, I forget all the tiredness in the world.” Lucía listened to him in silence. At that moment, without knowing why, she believed him. This wasn’t a conversation between a businesswoman and an employee. It was a conversation between two tired souls who had met by chance. “Thank you, Miguel,” she said finally. “Not just for today, but for reminding me that there are still good people.”
He nodded humbly. “And you, thank you for not treating me as if I were invisible,” he replied. When they said goodbye, Lucía felt a strange sensation, a mixture of calm and curiosity. As she went downstairs, she saw him pick up a mop, arrange his tray, and disappear through the service door.
Meanwhile, inside the lounge, the wealthy continued toasting good business. Lucía looked back toward the door through which Miguel had left. For the first time in years, she longed to see someone again, without knowing exactly why. And so, that night, which began as a farce, became the beginning of something money could never buy.
The next morning, Lucía woke up with a strange feeling. The sun timidly entered through the curtains of her penthouse on Valencia’s main street, reflecting off the awards, the withered flowers, and the stacked dossiers. Everything seemed so neat, so perfectly ordered, and yet nothing made sense.
The image of the man in the blue uniform played over and over in her head. That stranger who, without asking anything in return, had restored her dignity in the face of her worst nightmare. Why did he agree to help me? she wondered as she poured herself a coffee. She didn’t understand. No one did something like that out of pure altruism in her world.
That same afternoon, Lucía canceled a meeting with her investors and went down to the hotel lobby, pretending she had some unfinished business with management. But it wasn’t true; she just wanted to see him again. She asked at the front desk, trying to hide it. Mr. Navarro is still working this week. The receptionist, a young woman with an Andalusian accent, smiled. Of course. The cleaning shift starts at 6:00.
She usually has a coffee on the corner at the Alameda bar. Lucía thanked him and left. She walked unsteadily in the salty air of the late afternoon. The Alameda bar was one of those places that smells of toasted bread, freshly ground coffee, and conversation. Nothing like the white-tablecloth restaurants she frequented. And there he was.
He was sitting by the window, his shirt still damp from work, an old notebook on the table. While stirring his coffee, he was drawing something with a cheap pen. Lucía approached with a mixture of shyness and determination. “Hello,” she said. Miguel looked up in surprise, but then smiled genuinely.
Wow, I didn’t expect such an important lady to come into my world. Lucia blushed, unable to respond to the joke. “I just wanted to thank you for last night. You saved me from something horrible.” It was nothing, he replied. “We all need a hand from time to time, even those who don’t seem to need it.” She sat up for the first time in a long time.
She wasn’t wearing any makeup, just a simple blouse and her hair tied back. Miguel noticed the change, but didn’t say anything. “What are you drawing?” she asked. He responded to my daughter by showing her the notebook. On the page, a childlike drawing showed a crooked rainbow, a sun wearing glasses, and a huge dog. “Do you have a daughter?” Yes, her name is Sofia.
She’s 8 years old and the best thing that’s ever happened to me. “And her mother?” Lucía asked carefully. Miguel sighed. “She died 3 years ago. Ever since. She’s my reason to keep going.” Lucía looked at him silently. There was something in her voice that broke down any walls. She didn’t speak from self-pity, but from love. For almost an hour they talked about small things.
Sofía’s school, the neighborhood cafes, the rent prices, the loneliness of big cities. Lucía found herself laughing. It had been years since anyone had made her laugh without interest, without masks. When they said goodbye, Miguel said, “Thanks for coming. It’s not every day that a sio has coffee with a janitor.” She smiled. It’s not every day that a janitor teaches a sio what humanity is.
In the following days, Lucía found herself thinking about him more than she’d liked. She’d stop by the bar just for a drink, though they always ended up talking. Miguel treated her naturally, without fear or admiration, and that, paradoxically, liberated her. One rainy afternoon, he invited her to meet Sofía. I told her I have a friend who dresses very elegantly and works hard.
And what did he say? That he likes you, even though he hasn’t met you yet, he joked. Lucía agreed. Miguel’s house was in a poor neighborhood with whitewashed walls and plants in the windows. Sofía ran out to greet her, holding a drawing. “You’re Mrs. Lucía. Dad says you’re very smart.” Lucía bent down to be at his eye level. “And you’re Sofía.”