One day Raúl looked at her and said, “I want to marry you.” She laughed, thinking it was a joke. He insisted and decided to propose on her birthday. In front of all her friends and colleagues, he knelt and pulled out a ring. “Raquel, will you marry me?” The room fell silent. Whispers began. Seriously, she’s the same age as her mother. It’s not love, it’s self-interest.
But Raquel only saw one thing: Raúl’s respect.
And she said yes. She slipped on the ring. Tears streamed down her wrinkled cheeks. He embraced her. The world around them blurred, but in Raúl’s mind, a question gnawed at him like poison. “Would I love her if I were poor?” He tortured himself, but deep down he knew he did, that he loved her.
One day he decided to introduce her to his family. His mother, now recovered, lived in a house Raquel had bought. Raúl’s sisters were excited.
