His tone was different now.
Quieter.
Tired.
“I never thanked you.”
I turned slowly.
“For what?”
He let out a small, bitter laugh.
“For being there in the beginning. Without you… none of this would have happened.”
For the first time in years, he sounded sincere.
And strangely, it didn’t hurt.
It just felt… distant.
“Take care, Alejandro,” I said.
Then I walked out of the courthouse.
The Monterrey sun was bright above.
Warm air brushed my face.
And for the first time in years…
I could breathe freely.
Three months later, life shifted.
The southern stores thrived under my leadership.
But this time, I did things differently.
I hired professional managers.
I worked fewer hours.
And for the first time in a decade… I started living.
I took yoga classes.
I began reading again.
I even traveled.
One afternoon, I was sitting in a quiet café in downtown Monterrey.
I was reading when a man sat across from me.
I looked up.
He was in his forties.
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