My name is Lina , I’m twenty years old, and I’m a final-year design student. My friends always say I seem more mature than I am, perhaps because I’ve lived alone with my mother since I was little—a single woman, full of strength and determination. My father died young, and my mother never remarried; all these years she has worked tirelessly to raise me.

Once, while participating in a volunteer project in Guadalajara , I met Santiago , the head of the logistics team. He was over twenty years older than me, kind, calm, and spoke with a depth that surprised me. At first, I only appreciated him as a colleague, but little by little, my heart began to beat faster every time I heard his voice.

Santiago had been through a lot. He had a stable job and a failed marriage, but he had no children. He didn’t talk much about his past, only saying,
“I lost something very valuable. Now I just want to live honestly.”

Our love grew slowly, without scandals or drama. He always treated me with care, as if protecting something fragile. I knew many people commented, “How can a twenty-year-old girl fall in love with a man more than twenty years her senior?” but I didn’t care. With him, I felt at peace.

One day, Santiago told me:
“I want to meet your mother. I don’t want to keep hiding anything.”

I felt a knot in my stomach. My mother was strict and always worried, but I thought: if this is true love, there’s nothing to fear.

That day I took him home. Santiago was wearing a white shirt and carrying a bouquet of marigolds , the flower I told him my mother has always loved. I took his hand as we walked through the old gate of the house in Tlaquepaque . My mother was watering the plants and saw us.

At that moment… she froze.
Before he could introduce them, she ran to him and hugged him tightly, tears streaming down her face.

“My God… it’s you!” he exclaimed. “Santiago!”

The air grew heavy. I froze, completely bewildered. My mother was still hugging him, weeping and trembling. Santiago seemed stunned, his gaze lost, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Are you… Thalia?” he stammered in a hoarse voice.

My mother raised her head and nodded strongly:
“Yes… it’s you! My God, after more than twenty years you’re still alive, still here!”

My heart was pounding.
“Mom… do you know Santiago?”

They both looked at me. Neither of them said anything for a few seconds. Then my mother dried her tears and sat down:
“Lina… I must tell you the truth. When I was young, I loved a man named Santiago… and this is him.”

Silence filled the room. I looked at Santiago, his face pale and confused. My mother continued, her voice trembling:
“When I was studying at a technical school in Guadalajara , he had just finished university. We loved each other very much, but my grandparents didn’t approve of our relationship; they said he had no future. Then… Santiago had an accident, and we lost all contact. I thought he had died…”

Santiago sighed, his hands trembling:
“I didn’t forget you for a single day, Thalía. When I woke up in the hospital, I was far away and had no way to contact you. I came back, but I learned you’d already had a daughter… and I didn’t dare approach you.”

I felt my world crumbling. Every word tore at my heart.
“So… my daughter…” I gasped.

My mother looked at me, her voice breaking:
—Lina… you are Santiago’s daughter.

The silence was absolute. He could only hear the wind rustling through the garden trees. Santiago took a step back, his eyes red, his hands hanging limply at his sides.

“No… it can’t be…” she whispered. “I didn’t…”

My whole world felt empty. The man I loved, the one I believed was my destiny… turned out to be my father.

My mother hugged me, crying:
“I’m sorry… I never imagined…”

I said nothing. I just let the tears fall, salty and bitter like fate.

That day, the three of us sat for a long time. It was no longer a boyfriend introduction, but a reunion of souls lost for more than twenty years.

And I… a daughter who found her father and lost her first love, could only remain silent, letting the tears continue to fall.