Marianne had never been able to forget the sound the door made when it closed the day her father left. That memory always echoed in her mind like the beating of a drum. It was the beginning of a battle she never wanted to fight, and it gave birth to a resentment that she held in her breast for many years.
She was already a woman of twenty-five, with curly brown hair that fell below her shoulders. Her pale face always showed seriousness, she rarely smiled, and her light eyes had a fiery glow, the determination and strength of someone who grew up fighting against adversity. He spent many years building a wall to hide his heart, a fortress of solid foundations, built on a promise never to forgive his father.
Antonio, her father, was a man with a weathered and tired face, his hair covered with grey hair that hid the stories of an unknown past. That man had left when Marianne was only a little over ten years old, leaving a void in his daughter's heart and in that home that no one could fill, nor could time make her forget. His dark eyes showed regret, and a deep desire to repair the damage he had caused by his absence.
Everything seemed to be going well in Marianne's life, she had obtained a low-stress and well-paid job in a small office. She led a single life, since she had not been romantically involved with any partner and could always spend her free time doing the things she liked to do. Until one summer afternoon when she left the office and came face to face with her father as she was walking home and passed a small grocery store in the neighbourhood where she grew up. The unexpected situation provoked a palpable state of tension.
-Is that your daughter? At last I see you again. -Antonio said shakily, not expecting to meet her face to face. For so long he had been thinking about what to say, that this was what came out of his mouth.
-You have no right to call me daughter! I ceased to be one many years ago. -Marianne replied, with the rage in her heart rising to the surface.
Marianne, please listen to me. -said Antony, in a trembling voice, as his eyes gazed gently at the woman his daughter had become.
-After all these years he's been gone? -she replied scornfully, crossing her arms as if they were a protective shield.
-I promised I would never forgive him. I have nothing to say to you, and you will say nothing I want to hear. -Marianne's eyes filled with hatred.
-You promised it would be better when you came back, but you never did. It was all a lie to leave us! -Marianne finished with resentment.
-I know, and perhaps I don't deserve your forgiveness. -said Antonio, his eyes full of tears.
-But, it wasn't that I didn't want to, but because I couldn't go back... there's so much you don't know. I realise how much I hurt you... Let me make amends. -Antonio begged.
-And what do you intend to do? -interrupted Marianne, her high tone hushing Antonio's tearful voice.
-Another promise you won't keep? -asked Marianne ironically.
The conversation was too tense, and every word Marianne spoke was laden with anger, pain, and years of resentment. Yet she could not help remembering events of her childhood, and how happy she had been before he had left. She remembered laughing with her father as they played, and also fragments of some of the stories he had told her before bedtime. Images of her father hugging her mother came to her mind, only to be overshadowed by the shadow of his absence.
-There are things I cannot change. -said Antonio, his voice broken by Marianne's words.
-I am already here... you need to listen to me and know. Let me be your father one more time. I beg you please, my child. -Antonio burst into tears, under Marianne's hard gaze.
She, watching all this, felt a pang that broke down the wall that protected her heart. She knew that holding on to those resentments was easier than letting them go, but she began to question whether living with that anger was really what she wanted.
-I don't know if I feel ready to let you back into my life. -Marianne confessed to her father in a more submissive tone. The wall she had built had completely crumbled and her heart was exposed.
-I'm just asking for a chance. -said Antonio, his voice was very sincere.
Marianne was silent for a moment before answering; she felt very fragile and sentimental, and though she was afraid and distrustful, she decided to step forward, though she did not wish to suffer again.
-A chance, but only if you can justify your absence with a convincing reason. -said Marianne finally.
Antonio smiled through his tears, realising that there was still hope of regaining his daughter's affection.
-Daughter, let's walk to the nearby square! You will hear my truth and then decide what to do. You deserve to at least know. -said Antonio, holding out a hand for Marianne to take in acceptance.
Marianne looked at her father's outstretched hand, and though she did not take it, she still agreed to accompany him. She no longer wished to say, nor to claim anything, her head was a river of mixed feelings. She only wanted to listen to what he had to say. They both walked to the right place and sat down.
-Daughter, I have never stopped loving you and you have never stopped being important to me. You have always been the light in my eyes. -said António, while Marianne watched him carefully without interrupting him.
-I know I lost your mother and I may never get her back... there was never another woman, nor another family, nor another home for me. -Antonio continued.
-There's so much you don't know... you were a very young girl. We were going through a bad time financially. I imagine it was worse for you afterwards... I'm so sorry. I made some very bad decisions, but I never left you. I just couldn't go back. -continued Antonio, until he was interrupted by his daughter with questions.
-What do you mean? What are you hiding? What is it that I don't know? -asked Marianne, full of doubts.
-I got involved with very bad people to make money and committed crimes across the border. -said Antonio, as he lowered his face for a moment.
-I was in prison all these years... and I never found a way to communicate with my family. That's my truth, daughter. -confessed Antonio, staring into Marianne's eyes.
Those words of confession were unexpected for Marianne, she had never once imagined anything like that, no one had. It was inevitable for her to break down in tears, at last she knew the truth, and finally embraced her father. She could feel his warmth again, and felt once more like that little girl from so many years ago. Antonio held his daughter in his arms, he had longed to do it for so long, he wanted to do it the moment he found her, but he knew it would not be easy and he waited until she wanted to do it.
-I missed you so much, papa. -said Marianne between sobs.
-I missed you too, my child... every day I did it. -whispered Antonio.
-I forgive you daddy... I wanted to be strong and I think I've only been bitter. -said Marianne.
-It wasn't your fault, daughter. I was the only one to blame. -replied Antonio.
This conversation went on for a long time. They had so many things to say to each other, that the time of the day was not enough, and though they wished to stop the clock, it was soon dark. They said good-bye, and Marianne went home.
In the days that followed, they met, talked and shared, and there were many hopeful developments. As new chapters were forged in their lives, Anthony became Marianne's father again, and she put aside any resentment, in exchange for the bonds of family togetherness. The family was not the same as before, but at least one daughter was able to recover her absent father, and after the encounter described above, some seemingly irreparable wounds were healed.
Illustrative image generated with Bing.com
Original story written in Spanish and translated for The Ink Well, with DeepL.com (Free version).
Click here to read in spanish
Marianne, nunca había podido olvidar el sonido que hizo la puerta al cerrarse el día en que su padre se marchó. Aquel recuerdo siempre resonaba en su memoria como el retumbar de un tambor. Aquello fue el inicio de una batalla que nunca deseó pelear y que hizo nacer un resentimiento que por muchos años guardó en su pecho.
Ya era una mujer de veinticinco años, tenía el cabello rizado de color castaño, que caía por debajo de sus hombros. Su rostro pálido siempre mostraba seriedad, pocas veces se le veía sonreír, y sus ojos claros mostraban un brillo ardiente, propio de la determinación y fuerza de alguien que creció luchando contra la adversidad. Pasó muchos años levantando un muro para esconder su corazón, una fortaleza de sólidas bases, construida a partir de la promesa de nunca perdonar a su padre.
Antonio, su padre, era un hombre de rostro curtido y cansado, con el cabello cubierto de canas que escondían las historias de un pasado desconocido. Aquel hombre se había marchado cuando Marianne solo tenía un poco más de diez años, dejando un vacío en el corazón de su hija y en ese hogar, que nadie pudo llenar, y tampoco el tiempo hizo olvidar. Sus ojos oscuros mostraban arrepentimiento, y profundos deseos por reparar los daños que originó con su ausencia.
Todo parecía marchar bien en la vida de Marianne, había obtenido un trabajo poco estresante y bien remunerado en una pequeña oficina. Llevaba un vida de soltera, puesto a qué no se había involucrado sentimentalmente con ningúna pareja y siempre podía disponer de su tiempo libre para aquellas cosas que le gustaban. Hasta que una tarde de verano al salir de la oficina, se encontró frente a frente con su padre, mientras caminaba de camino a su hogar y pasaba frente a un pequeño bodegón en el barrio donde creció. Aquella inesperada situación provocó un estado de tensión palpable.
—¿Eres tu hija? Al fin vuelvo a verte. —dijo Antonio tembloroso, no esperaba encontrarse de frente con ella. Por tanto tiempo había estado pensando en que decir, que eso fue lo que salió por su boca.
—¡Usted no tiene ningún derecho a llamarme hija! Dejé de serlo hace muchos años. —contestó Marianne aflorando esa rabia que albergaba en su corazón.
—Marianne, por favor, escúchame —dijo Antonio, con voz temblorosa, mientras sus ojos observaban dulcemente a la mujer en la que se había convertido su hija.
—¿Escucharlo señor? ¿Después de tantos años desaparecido? —respondió ella con desdén, mientras cruzaba los brazos como si fueran un escudo protector—. Prometí que nunca iba a perdonarlo. No tengo nada que decirle y usted no dirá nada que yo quiera oír —Sus ojos se llenaron de odio —. Prometiste que todo sería mejor cuando volvieras, pero nunca lo hiciste ¡Todo fue una mentira para abandonarnos! —finalizó diciendo con mucho resentimiento.
—Lo sé, y quizás no merezco tu perdón —dijo Antonio, con los ojos llenos de lágrimas—. Pero, no era que no quería, sino porque no podía volver… hay mucho que no sabes. Me doy cuenta de cuánto daño te hice… Déjame enmendarlo. —suplicó.
—¿Y qué piensas hacer? —interrumpió Marianne, su elevado tono silencio a la voz llorosa de Antonio—. ¿Otra promesa que no vas a cumplir? —preguntó irónicamente.
La conversación era demasiado tensa, y cada palabra que pronunciaba Marianne, estaba cargada de irá, dolor y años de resentimiento. Sin embargo, no pudo evitar recuerdos de acontecimientos de su niñez, y de lo feliz que había sido antes de que él se hubiera marchado. Recordó reír junto a su padre mientras jugaban, y también fragmentos de algunas historias que le había contado antes de dormir. A su mente llegaron imágenes de su padre abrazando a su madre, que luego fueron opacadas, por la sombra de su ausencia.
—Hay cosas que no puedo cambiar —dijó Antonio, su voz estaba quebrada por las palabras de Marianne—. Ya estoy aquí.. necesitas escucharme y saber. Déjame ser tu padre una vez más. Te lo suplicó por favor, hija mía. —Desparramandose en llanto, ante la dura mirada de Marianne.
Ella, observando todo aquello, sintió una punzada que derrumbó el muro que protegía su corazón. Sabía que sostener aquellos resentimientos le era más fácil que dejarlos ir, pero comenzó a cuestionarse si vivir con esa ira era realmente lo que deseaba.
—No sé si me siento preparada para dejarte entrar de nuevo a mi vida —confesó a su padre con un tono más sumiso. La muralla que había construido, se había derrumbado por completo y su corazón quedó expuesto.
—Solo te pido una oportunidad. —dijo Antonio, su voz denotaba mucha sinceridad.
Marianne guardó un instante de silencio antes de contestar, se sentía muy frágil y sentimental, y aunque tenía miedo y desconfianza, decidió dar un paso adelante a pesar de no querer sufrir nuevamente.
—Una oportunidad —dijo finalmente Marianne—. Pero solo si puedes justificar tu ausencia con una razón convincente.
Antonio sonrió entre lágrimas, entendiendo que aún había esperanzas para recuperar el cariño de su hija.
—¡Hija, caminemos hasta la plaza cercana! Escucharás mi verdad y luego decidirás que hacer. Mereces al menos saberlo—dijo Antonio, extendiendo una mano para que Marianne la tomará en señal de aceptación.
Marianne miró la mano extendida de su padre, y aunque no la tomó, igualmente aceptó acompañarle. Ya no deseaba decir, ni reclamar nada, su cabeza era un río de sentimientos encontrados. Solo quería escuchar aquello que él tenía para decirle. Ambos caminaron hasta el lugar indicado y se sentaron.
—Hija, nunca he dejado de amarte y nunca has dejado de ser importante para mí. Siempre has sido la luz de mis ojos. —comenzó diciendo António, mientras Marianne le observaba minuciosamente sin interrumpirle.
—Sé que perdí a tu madre y quizás no la recupere nunca… jamás hubo otra mujer, ni otra familia, ni otro hogar para mí. —continuó.
—Hay tanto que no sabes… eras muy niña. Pasábamos por un mal momento económico. Imagino que después fue peor para ustedes… cuánto lo siento. Tome muy malas decisiones, pero jamás les abandone. Solo no podía volver. —proseguía diciendo António, hasta que fue interrumpido por su hija con interrogantes.
—¿Qué quieres decir? ¿Qué estás ocultando? ¿Qué es eso que no se?—preguntó Marianne, llena de dudas.
—Me involucré con personas muy malas para ganar dinero y cometí delitos al otro lado de la frontera. —dijo António, mientras bajaba la cara por un instante.
—Estuve en prisión todos estos años… y nunca encontré como comunicarme con mi familia. Esa es mi verdad, hija. —confesó Antonio, mirando fijamente a los ojos de Marianne.
Aquellas palabras de confesión fueron inesperadas para Marianne, jamás imaginó ni una sola vez algo así, nadie lo hizo. Fue inevitable para ella derrumbarse en llanto, al fin sabía la verdad, y finalmente abrazó a su padre. Pudo sentir nuevamente su calor, y se sintió una vez más como esa pequeña niña de tantos años atrás. Antonio estrechó a su hija entre sus brazos, lo había ansiado por tanto tiempo, quiso hacerlo en ese instante en que la encontró, pero sabía que no sería fácil y espero hasta que ella quisiera hacerlo.
—Te extrañe mucho papá. —dijo Marianne entre sollozos.
—Yo también a ti hijita… todos los días lo hice. —susurro Antonio.
—Yo te perdono papá… quería ser fuerte y creo que solo he sido una amargada —dijo Marianne.
—No fue tu culpa hija. El único culpable he sido yo. —contestó Antonio.
Esa conversación se extendió por un largo rato. Tenian tantas cosas para decirse, que el tiempo de ese día no fue suficiente, y aunque deseaban parar el reloj, pronto anocheció. Se despidieron y Marianne se marchó a su casa.
En los días siguientes se reunieron, charlaron y compartieron, hubo muchos avances cargados de esperanza. Mientras se forjaban nuevos capítulos en sus vidas, Antonio volvió a ser el papá de Marianne, y ella dejó de lado cualquier resentimiento, a cambio de lazos de unión familiar. La familia no volvió a ser la misma de antes, pero al menos una hija pudo recuperar a su padre ausente, y tras aquel encuentro narrado, se logró cicatrizar algunas heridas que parecían irreparables.
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STOPThis story has a lot of realism about real life. How many single mothers have raised their children alone, and how often has this had repercussions on their growth? Although there should always be forgiveness and a reason for why the decision was made. A very good story. Best regards.
Marianne has a good heart.
Glad they went back to being family.
@wlin, our AI checker tells us this content is developed with AI, which is not allowed in The Ink Well. This may happen if you are using AI to create or modify your writing. Please do not use AI tools to write or rephrase content you publish in The Ink Well. Thank you.
Good evening @theinkwell
Please could you do the AI check on writing in the original language.
I know it's complicated to do the analysis of the whole story in an AI detection tool, because of the amount of words. Some tools allow 500 words and others 1200. I don't know if some of them allow more. The original writing in Spanish has 1351.
When this verification is done in fragments it tends to yield sections with a likelihood of AI use.
I also notice that when checking in English it yields probabilities of AI use and paraphrasing.
Another thing, when I do the translation through DeepL.com, I must divide the dialogues so that it is well specified what each character is saying, because I notice that the hyphens (or dashes that I use) are replaced by inverted commas and I don't know if that is correct, at least in Spanish it is not, hence the fix. In my language many words when translated are replaced by a single word in English. I mean that the words are more varied to say the same thing. Something that I also notice, and that sometimes confuses me when I use the translator to read other users' posts.
I don't use AI for writing, nor for paraphrasing text.
Please excuse me for the inconvenience.
Translated with DeepL.com (free version)
Thank you for that explanation, @wlin. It's very much appreciated. We did attempt to test the original language, but there were errors, possibly due to the lines you have added between paragraphs. Please avoid adding those in the future. Thank you.
Thanks @theinkwell, I'll keep in mind not to add the lines between paragraphs for the future.