Vanessa had completely stopped laughing. And when Daniel opened his mouth to speak, I realized that this conversation concealed something far more serious than I had imagined…

PART 2: The words my son heard

“Dad, Vanessa told me that Mom threw herself on the floor to embarrass her, but I saw her put her hands on her.”

Daniel’s confession sent a chill down my spine.

My son was a few steps from the stage, his face contorted and his hands trembling.

Behind him, Vanessa began to deny it desperately.

“Daniel, don’t talk nonsense!”

But my son didn’t look at her.

He continued observing the place where Margarita had fallen.

“I asked her why she had pushed her.”

He swallowed.

“And she told me not to make a big deal out of it, that Mom needed to learn not to interfere in our lives.”

I felt my heart pounding in my chest.

I remembered the image that had haunted me since the accident.

Daniel hugging Vanessa.

Bringing his lips close to her ear.

And she was laughing while her mother lay in the mud.

“Was that what you whispered to her?” I asked.

My son lowered his head.

“I asked him if he had done it on purpose.”

“And what did he reply?”

Daniel started to cry.

“That nothing would happen, because Mom always ended up forgiving her.”

For a few seconds I couldn’t speak.

That phrase contained a cruelty that went far beyond an argument between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law.

Vanessa had come to believe that Margarita’s kindness allowed her to do anything.

That he would always find an excuse.

That he would always ask for silence.

And that no one would dare to confront her to avoid family problems.

I turned to my wife.

I was still sitting in a chair by the garden, covered with my coat.

One guest had brought him water and another was holding his walking stick.

Margarita was pale.

His expression made me immediately forget the argument.

I needed to know if she was hurt.

I gave the microphone back to the band director.

“Please halt any activities that we can still suspend and notify the person in charge of the estate that I need to speak with him.”

The musician nodded.

When I stepped off the stage, Ricardo Calderón got in my way.

“Tomás, you’re turning an accident into a spectacle.”

I looked at him in disbelief.

“Your daughter pushed my wife.”

Ricardo pursed his lips.

“The two of them were arguing.”

“An argument does not justify knocking a woman who needs a cane to the ground.”

The man raised his voice.

“You’re not going to ruin my daughter’s wedding!”

I took a deep breath.

“I don’t intend to allow them to continue celebrating as if Margarita didn’t matter.”

I walked past him and approached my wife.

I knelt down.

“My love, where does it hurt?”

Margarita tried to smile.

“I’m fine, Tomás.”

But when he tried to move his right leg, his expression changed.

She let out a groan.

I felt my hands go cold.

“Margarita.”

“It’s no big deal.”

He observed it.

We had been married for over forty years.

I knew that phrase perfectly well.

My wife would say it was nothing when she was exhausted.

When his hands hurt.

When I needed help and didn’t want to worry others.

But I knew how to recognize the pain in her face.

“We’re going to ask them to check you.”

He took my hand.

“Daniel…”

He looked at our son.

Daniel remained by the stage, arguing with Vanessa.

I felt immense sadness.

“Now, you are what’s important.”

I asked the farm staff to request assistance and help arrange a safe transfer so that their injuries could be assessed.

Margarita protested gently.

I didn’t want to leave the wedding.

He said there were many people waiting.

That Daniel would be sad.

We could resolve it later.

But this time I did not accept that he put the feelings of others above his own safety.

“My love, we’re not canceling your life to protect a party.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“Tomás, it’s our only son’s wedding.”

I stroked his face.

“And you are my wife.”

My voice broke.

“And you just fell because someone decided to push you.”

Margarita began to cry.

I hugged her carefully.

We remained like that for a few seconds.

Then Daniel appeared in front of us.

“Mother.”

My wife raised her head.

“Daniel.”

Our son knelt down.

Her eyes were red.

“Forgive me.”

Margarita tried to stroke his hair.

But he moved slightly away.

“No, Mom.”

Her voice trembled.

“Don’t tell me nothing’s wrong.”

I watched him with surprise.

Daniel continued.

“I saw what Vanessa did and I didn’t help you.”

Tears began to run down my wife’s face.