A man I had spent one passionate night with during a trip I took after graduating.
A man who disappeared the next morning.
“That night six years ago,” Alejandro said, voice hoarse, “I wasn’t supposed to be there. I was using a fake name. I was running from my own life. When I woke up, I left without saying goodbye. I thought it was just one night.”
He looked at me with tears in his eyes.
“But nine months later, you gave birth to Camila.”
The floor felt like it disappeared beneath my feet.
“No…” I whispered.
Alejandro stepped closer.
“Camila is my daughter, Isabella.”
I stumbled backward.
“All this time, I’ve been searching for you. When you walked into my suite that night, I recognized you immediately. I recognized her face in yours. I knew she was mine.”
I felt like I was going to be sick.
“So you paid me… like a prostitute… to sleep with the mother of your own child?”
Alejandro’s voice broke.
