His Baby Machine

Red thread

Chapter 1 - Red Thread

Shimmering chandeliers hung above their heads as they held their crystal glasses elegantly, exchanging glances and whispers, wondering what hidden news awaited them. Since they learned about this event, their search had begun, but all their work had been in vain as they couldn't extract the desired information.

Journalists, employees, artists, the elite, both known and unknown, eagerly awaited the start of the gala, their crystal flutes filled to the brim with the finest champagne.

If you were to be there, you would definitely feel like you were inside a fairy tale ball. The guests had pulled out their tuxedos and evening gowns from their closets. Those who were attending as guests for the first time, rather than as employees, dressed in a fancy manner, drinking and enjoying themselves like wealthy individuals.

They talked loudly, dancing to every song played by the band, which raised questioning looks among those who had decided to call themselves the elite.

The music changed as a thick fog covered the floor, increasing the anticipation. The main gate opened, and from there, the hosts of the gathering entered, hand in hand.

The man gracefully held the woman's hand and, before taking the microphone, kissed her forehead, softly mumbling a thank you.

"Welcome, friends and family. I know that I haven't personally interacted with many of you, but if you are here because my better half invited you, then you are also my friend. And my family consists of those whom I have spent my entire life with, from the moment I wake up until I enter my room."

Those who seemed out of place applauded loudly and whistled, reminiscent of mariachi bands. The man beat his chest and bowed to them.

The elite felt out of place as those without their social standing garnered attention.

"Today is 'Dia de los Muertos.' Many of you celebrate it like Halloween – a festival to remember those who are no longer with us. Wherever you are, mama y papa, may God keep you in His glory."

Some tears welled up as the man looked up at the crystal cupola, giving off an aesthetic of a full moon. The woman next to him, with golden hair and eyes as deep as the sea, pecked his cheek, showing her presence as a gift from heaven. The eye-to-eye gazes that contained thousands of unspoken words sparked envy in those who couldn't meet their perspective.

"25 years ago, we started the year with a broken heart as our little angel decided to leave us. It was a test from God…" Tears choked his words, but his wife stepped in.

"A test that his love and concern for a broken woman like me, who had lost the desire to live, passed with flying colors. He was there supporting me when I was ready to let go of everything, when I said the worst words, when I became blind to his pain." She stopped and looked at the guests, making both those he called family and those who weren't tear up. She took his hand and cupped his cheek, looking into his teary eyes, and spoke. "I have told you many times that I love you, but I never dared to ask for forgiveness. I am sorry for my blindness at those times, Ricardo. I was lost in the dark, but you held my hand tight and showed me the way to the light again. Thank you, cariño." She ended by pecking his lips. He held her hand and gave her a tight hug, one that exchanged not just heartbeats, but souls.

"Mi vida, you don't have to thank me for that. Firstly, I did my manly duty to support my woman, to look after you and make sure you were always fine. Those harsh words you said, I can't lie and say they didn't hurt, but you were saying them to your man, to me. When we made our eternal love promise before the virgin, we signed up to be there for each other through everything, the good and the bad, through thin and thick. I was with you just as you have been the pillar of my life, my anchor, the wind that brought me to safe land."