At first, I didn’t want to tell this. It’s embarrassing. It’s scary. But now, I want to be honest, not because of guilt, but because of the truth that changed my life.
I am Ivy, twenty-three years old, I grew up in poverty. My mother worked doing laundry, and my father left when I was a child. My only dream then was to escape hunger, to live without worrying about where I would get money from tomorrow.
That’s why, when an older lawyer approached me, he Lawyer Pérez, and he told me:
“I have a client looking for a wife —legal marriage, nothing bad. In exchange for security and wealth. You don’t have to do anything but take care of it”,
…i didn’t respond immediately.
But when I saw my mother suffering in the hospital, I accepted.
The only condition: don’t ask anything about your past.
When I first saw it, we were almost forty years apart. White hair, still elegant despite his age, and always wearing an expensive watch. His name: Mr. Alexander Cruz.
He was a silent man. He was not rude or short-tempered. But there was a sadness in his eyes, as if he was looking for something he couldn’t find.
One night, while we were having dinner at his big house, he suddenly spoke:
“Ivy… I have a question”. “What is it, sir?” “Is it true that they only forced you?”
I stayed silent.
“No, sir”, I whispered. “I wanted it too. Because… I want to help my mom”.
He nodded, with a weak smile. “You don’t have to lie. I understand”.
Months passed, and little by little I became aware of his character. It wasn’t what everyone thought —he wasn’t arrogant, he wasn’t cold. He loved planting flowers in the backyard. Every morning at six, I made coffee for both of us.
And every night before going to bed, I stared at an old photo next to the bed —the photo of a little girl and a woman who looked my age.
“They are very beautiful”, I once said.
He smiled, bitterness on his lips. “Yeah. They were my life then”.
“Where are they now?”
“They left a long time ago”.w
And there, her tears fell. I didn’t ask more.
After a year, everything changed.
One day, I woke up and he wasn’t home. I called the driver and he took me to the cemetery. I saw Alexander, kneeling in front of two graves.
One —with a woman’s name: Elena Cruz (1975–2012) The other —a girl’s name: Ivy Cruz (2000–2010)
I collapsed. I felt like my heart had been stabbed.
“Ivy…” he said softly, not knowing I was there. “My daughter, if only you knew how much I miss you”.
I stopped breathing.
Daughter? Ivy? We had the same name.
I approached, trembling.
“Alex…” I called him.
He was startled, turned around.
“What are you doing here?” “The name on the grave… Ivy… is she your daughter?”
He nodded.
