Chapter 3: The Signature That Could Save Them
For the first time in my adult life, I had no idea what money could do for me.
I stood in a hospital corridor with a doctor explaining that my wife might die.
My son might die.
And the only thing I could think about was the last sentence Camila had whispered into the phone.
I don't want to die alone.
I had heard her.
I had understood her.
And I had hung up anyway.
"Mr. Villarreal?""
The doctor was waiting for an answer.
I blinked.
"Yes?""
"My name is Dr. Isabel Herrera. I'm the obstetric surgeon overseeing your wife's care.""
"Then save her.""
She didn't react to my tone.
"We are trying. But Camila has suffered significant trauma. There are signs of placental abruption, and the baby's heart rate is dangerously low.""
I stared at her.
"What's placental abruption?""
"It means the placenta may have separated from the uterine wall. That can deprive the baby of oxygen and cause severe maternal bleeding.""
I looked at the double doors.
"Then do a C-section.""
"That may be necessary. We're preparing for emergency delivery.""
"Then why are you standing here talking to me?""
"Because there are serious risks. Your wife is unstable, and we need to explain the procedure and obtain consent.""
I pulled out my phone.
"Get the best surgeon in Monterrey. I don't care what it costs.""
Dr. Herrera's expression remained unchanged.
"Mr. Villarreal, this isn't a hotel reservation. We have a qualified surgical team ready.""
"Then bring more people.""
"Additional personnel will not necessarily improve her condition.""
I stepped closer.
"Do you understand who you're dealing with?""
Alejandro spoke from behind me.
"She understands exactly who she's dealing with. She's trying to save your wife.""
I turned.
"Stay out of this.""
Alejandro didn't move.
"You should have listened when she called.""
"Not now.""
"Especially now.""
I stepped toward him.
"One more word, Serrano.""
He looked at me with an expression I had never seen before.
It wasn't hatred.
It was disappointment.
And somehow, that was worse.
Dr. Herrera interrupted.
"Both of you need to calm down. I have a patient whose life is at risk.""
She held out a clipboard.
"Mr. Villarreal, please read and sign here.""
I took the papers.
The words blurred.
Emergency cesarean section.
Maternal hemorrhage.
Fetal distress.
Potential blood transfusion.
Possible complications.
I had signed hundreds of contracts.
Millions of dollars had changed hands beneath my signature.
But this was the first document I had ever held that made my hand shake.
"Will she live?"" I asked.
Dr. Herrera paused.
"I cannot promise you that.""
"Then promise me the baby will.""
"I cannot promise that either.""
I looked at the form.
Then I signed.
The doctor took the clipboard.
"We're moving immediately.""
The doors opened.
A nurse rushed through carrying a tray of medical supplies.
For a brief second, I saw Camila.
She was on a hospital bed, pale beneath the harsh lights.
Her eyes were closed.
An oxygen mask covered her mouth.
A nurse was adjusting an IV line.
Then the doors closed again.
And my wife disappeared.
I sank into a chair.
My phone vibrated.
Valeria.
I had forgotten she was waiting outside.
I answered.
"Where are you?""
"At the entrance. Mateo, I'm not staying here all night.""
I closed my eyes.
"Then go home.""
"What?""
"Go home, Valeria.""
She was silent.
Then she said, "You don't have to speak to me like that.""
I rubbed my forehead.
"Not now.""
"Your wife is being treated. There's nothing you can do.""
I stared at the surgical doors.
"That's exactly the problem.""
"What?""
"There's nothing I can do.""
Valeria exhaled sharply.
"Mateo, listen to me. You can't start feeling guilty every time Camila has a crisis.""
I stood so abruptly that the chair scraped against the floor.
"Stop saying her name like she's some inconvenience.""
Valeria went quiet.
Then she whispered, "You're scaring me.""
I looked at the phone.
For eight months, I had allowed her to believe that my marriage was practically over.
I had told her Camila and I slept in separate rooms.
I had told her the pregnancy was an obligation rather than something I wanted.
I had told her that once the baby was born, everything would change.
But the truth was that I had never intended to leave my wife.
I wanted both women.
I wanted Camila's loyalty, her family name, her patience, and the beautiful home she had helped create.
I wanted Valeria's admiration, excitement, and freedom from responsibility.
I had wanted everything.
And now I might lose the one person who had given me everything without asking for anything in return.
"Go home," I repeated.
She hung up.
Alejandro was standing near the vending machines when I approached him.
He was washing his hands in a small sink.
The water ran pink before it cleared.
I stared at his cuff.
"That's her blood?""
He shut off the faucet.
"Yes.""
I swallowed.
"What happened?""
He looked at me.
"You really want to know?""
"Tell me.""
"She was lying at the bottom of the stairs. Her dress was soaked. She couldn't stand. She was holding her stomach and asking whether her baby was still alive.""
I looked away.
"Why were you there?""
"Because Rosa called me.""
"Why would Camila's mother call you?""
"Because you weren't answering.""
I tightened my jaw.
"She called me.""
"Eighteen times.""
I stared at him.
He took a paper towel and dried his hands.
"Do you know what she said when I found her?""
I said nothing.
"She asked me where you were.""
My throat tightened.
"She kept asking whether you were coming. Even when the paramedics arrived, she wanted to know if you'd be there when she woke up.""
I looked at the floor.
Alejandro continued.
"She was apologizing for calling you so many times.""
I closed my eyes.
"Stop.""
"She thought she'd disturbed your evening.""
"Stop, Alejandro.""
"She was bleeding on the floor, Mateo, and she was worried that she had inconvenienced you.""
I grabbed his shirt.
He didn't resist.
"Do you think I wanted this?""
Alejandro looked at my hand.
Then he looked at me.
"Did you want it when you rejected her calls?""
I released him.
He straightened his shirt.
"You know what the worst part is?""
I said nothing.
"She defended you.""
I frowned.
"What?""
"When I asked where you were, she said you were probably working. When Elena told her that you hadn't answered, she said your phone must have been on silent.""
Alejandro's voice cracked slightly.
"She was making excuses for you while she was lying there wondering whether she would ever hold her son.""
I leaned against the wall.
For the first time, I couldn't find an excuse.
Not one.
At 1:18 a.m., Rosa arrived.
She was wearing a cardigan over her nightdress, and her gray hair was still damp from the rain.
The moment she saw me, she stopped.
"Where is my daughter?""
I stepped toward her.
"She's in surgery.""
Rosa looked at Alejandro.
He nodded.
"They're doing everything they can.""
Rosa covered her mouth.
Then she turned to me.
"How long was she alone?""
I couldn't answer.
"Mateo, look at me.""
I lifted my eyes.
"How long?""
"Elena found her...""
"That isn't what I asked.""
I swallowed.
"I don't know.""
Rosa stared at me.
"She called you?""
I nodded.
"How many times?""
I looked down.
"Eighteen.""
Rosa's face changed.
She slowly removed her glasses.
"Eighteen times?""
I tried to speak.
"Rosa, I—"
"She told me you were busy.""
I remained silent.
"She said you had an important meeting. She said she didn't want to bother you.""
Rosa's eyes filled.
"Do you know what my daughter did when she was a little girl?""
I shook my head.
"She used to wait outside her father's workshop until he finished working. Even when it rained. Even when he told her to go inside.""
Rosa wiped her cheek.
"She loved people completely. She always believed that if you loved someone enough, they would eventually love you back the same way.""
She stepped closer.
"And I warned her about men who mistake kindness for permission to hurt someone.""
I couldn't look at her.
"Rosa, I'm sorry.""
She gave a small, broken laugh.
"Don't apologize to me. You need to apologize to the woman who was calling you while she was bleeding.""
Then she walked away.
Alejandro followed her.
I remained alone.
At 1:46 a.m., the operating room doors opened.
A nurse stepped into the corridor.
"Family of Camila Villarreal?""
Rosa stood immediately.
"Yes. I'm her mother.""
The nurse glanced at me.
"We need to speak with you.""
I moved forward.
"How is my wife?""
"The surgical team has managed to control some of the bleeding, but the situation remains critical.""
"And the baby?""
The nurse hesitated.
"He's been delivered.""
For a second, the entire corridor seemed to stop.
"He's alive?""
"Yes, sir. He's alive.""
My knees nearly gave way.
Rosa began crying.
"Thank God.""
The nurse continued.
"He's very premature and is being transferred to the neonatal intensive care unit. He needs respiratory support.""
"Can I see him?""
"Not yet. The neonatal team is working.""
I grabbed the nurse's arm.
"Is he going to survive?""
She gently removed my hand.
"We cannot predict that right now.""
I looked toward the doors.
"And Camila?""
The nurse's expression changed.
"Your wife is still in surgery.""
"Why?""
"She's experiencing significant complications.""
"What complications?""
The nurse glanced toward the operating room.
"The surgical team is trying to stabilize her blood pressure. She's lost a dangerous amount of blood.""
Rosa grabbed my arm.
"Please tell me she's going to live.""
The nurse didn't answer immediately.
Then she said, "We're doing everything possible.""
She returned through the doors.
Rosa sat down and began praying.
I stood motionless.
My son was alive.
My wife might be dying.
And I had no idea how to live with either possibility.
At 2:13 a.m., Dr. Herrera came out.
Her surgical cap was still on.
She removed her gloves and approached us.
"Mrs. Villarreal's mother?""
Rosa stood.
"Yes.""
"Your daughter is alive.""
Rosa broke into tears.
I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
"Can I see her?"" I asked.
"Not yet. She has been transferred to intensive care. We need to monitor her closely.""
"Is the danger over?""
Dr. Herrera shook her head.
"No.""
My heart sank.
"Why not?""
"Her blood pressure remains unstable. We're also concerned about the extent of the internal bleeding.""
"Can you operate again?""
"We have already done what was necessary surgically. Right now, we need to stabilize her.""
"Then give her whatever she needs.""
"We are.""
I reached into my pocket.
"Money isn't a problem. I'll pay for any medication, any specialist, any equipment.""
Dr. Herrera looked at me.
"Mr. Villarreal, your wife doesn't need a wealthy husband right now. She needs a husband who understands that her recovery will take time, that she may not be able to return to normal immediately, and that your child will need specialized care.""
I nodded.
"Of course.""
The doctor held my gaze.
"And there's something else.""
I waited.
"Your wife regained consciousness briefly before we transferred her.""
I moved closer.
"What did she say?""
Dr. Herrera looked at Rosa.
"She asked about the baby.""
Rosa began crying again.
"And then?""
The doctor paused.
"She asked whether her husband had arrived.""
My throat tightened.
"What did you tell her?""
"That you were at the hospital.""
I nodded.
"Good.""
Dr. Herrera looked directly at me.
"Then she asked whether Alejandro was still there.""
I froze.
Rosa turned toward Alejandro.
He was standing a few feet away.
The doctor continued.
"She wanted to make sure he hadn't left.""
I looked at him.
He lowered his eyes.
Something inside me twisted.
My wife had been afraid of dying.
She had asked for me.
I had refused.
And when Alejandro arrived, she had been terrified that even he might leave.
At 2:31 a.m., a nurse came to take Rosa to see Camila.
I stood.
"I'm going too.""
The nurse checked the chart.
"Only one visitor at a time right now.""
"I'm her husband.""
"I understand, sir.""
"Then let me in.""
Rosa turned toward me.
"Go see your son.""
I frowned.
"What?""
"The baby is in intensive care. You should see him.""
"I want to see Camila.""
Rosa looked at me for a long moment.
"Then perhaps you should have thought about that before.""
She followed the nurse.
I watched them disappear.
Alejandro approached.
"Go see the baby.""
I turned on him.
"Don't tell me what to do.""
"He needs his father.""
I laughed bitterly.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?""
Alejandro's expression hardened.
"Enjoying what?""
"Seeing me suffer. You finally get to watch my life fall apart.""
He stared at me.
"Do you really think this is about you?""
I stepped closer.
"Stay away from Camila.""
He shook his head.
"You still don't understand.""
"Understand what?""
"She isn't yours to punish.""
My jaw tightened.
"She's my wife.""
"And she was lying on that floor while you were drinking with another woman.""
The words struck harder than I expected.
I stepped forward.
Alejandro didn't move.
Then he said something I would remember for the rest of my life.
"Three years ago, you took my company, my reputation, and almost everything I had. I survived that. But if you had cost Camila her life tonight, I would never have forgiven myself for not getting there sooner.""
I stared at him.
He walked away.
I wanted to follow.
I wanted to demand an explanation.
But my phone vibrated.
A message from the hospital.
Your newborn son is ready for a brief parental visit.
I looked at the message.
Then at the corridor where Camila had disappeared.
For the first time, I understood that I could not fix everything by giving an order.
I could not buy back the hours I had wasted.
I could not reverse eighteen rejected calls.
I could not erase the image of Alejandro carrying my wife out of my house.
I followed the nurse toward the neonatal intensive care unit.
The NICU was colder than I expected.
Machines beeped softly.
A row of incubators stood beneath white lights.
A nurse approached me.
"Are you Mateo Villarreal?""
"Yes.""
"Your son is in incubator seven.""
She led me toward a tiny baby wrapped in a white blanket.
He was so small that I couldn't understand how something so fragile had survived.
A transparent tube rested near his nose.
Wires were attached to his chest.
His fingers were curled into tiny fists.
I stood beside the incubator.
"That's him?"" I whispered.
The nurse nodded.
"He's doing his best.""
I stared at his face.
He had dark hair.
A small nose.
And a faint line between his eyebrows that reminded me of Camila when she was concentrating.
I reached toward the glass.
"Hello, little man.""
The nurse smiled.
"Would you like to tell him something?""
I couldn't speak.
I had imagined this moment countless times.
I had imagined holding him in my arms, taking pictures, announcing his birth to my business partners.
I had imagined my father standing beside me, telling me that the Villarreal family name would continue.
But I had never imagined meeting my son behind a sheet of glass, surrounded by machines, while his mother fought for her life.
I lowered my head.
"I'm your father.""
My voice broke.
"I'm sorry.""
The nurse looked away politely.
I placed my palm against the incubator.
"Your mother wanted you so badly. She talked about you every day.""
I remembered the nursery Camila had designed.
The tiny blue blankets.
The wooden crib.
The stuffed bear she had placed beside the window.
She had painted a small mural of stars on the wall herself because she wanted our son to have something beautiful to look at when he woke up.
I had barely entered that room in months.
I swallowed.
"She loves you more than anything.""
The baby's fingers moved.
I pressed my hand against the glass.
"Please hold on. Your mother needs you.""
A nurse approached.
"Mr. Villarreal, there's someone asking for you.""
I turned.
"Who?""
She glanced toward the entrance.
"An attorney. He says he has urgent information concerning the Villarreal construction company.""
I frowned.
"Tell him I'm busy.""
"He says it's about a financial investigation.""
I looked back at my son.
"Not now.""
The nurse nodded.
But before she could leave, my phone rang.
It was Diego.
I answered.
"What?""
His voice was unusually tense.
"Mateo, where are you?""
"Hospital.""
"I need you to come to the office.""
"Not happening.""
"There's a problem with the company.""
"What problem?""
Diego hesitated.
Then he said:
"Someone has sent the board documents proving that Alejandro Serrano never stole a single dollar from the company.""
I stopped breathing.
"What?""
"Mateo, the documents are original. They're signed. And there's more.""
I looked through the glass at my son.
"What more?""
Diego lowered his voice.
"The person who sent them claims you personally ordered the transfer of the missing money.""
My fingers tightened around the phone.
"Who sent them?""
There was a long silence.
Then Diego answered.
"Camila.""
I stared at the incubator.
The baby moved again.
And suddenly, I realized that the woman I had left bleeding on the floor might have been carrying a secret that could destroy everything I had spent three years protecting.
But what I didn't know was that Camila had already given Alejandro the original evidence before she fell.
May you like
And the next person who would walk into that hospital would not be coming to ask whether my wife was alive.
He would be coming to make sure I never controlled her life again.
