For weeks, no remedies, stories, or specialists could get the twins to sleep until the new nanny did something and he changed.
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“I can’t go on like this, Mr. Bernabeo,” exclaimed Marisol, the third nanny to resign in less than a month.

The children don’t sleep, they don’t obey, and frankly, they need help that I can’t give them.

Roxson Bernabéu rubbed his temples tiredly as he watched the woman gather her belongings.

On the upper floor, the twins’ inconsolable cries pierced the walls of the mansion located in Polanco, the most exclusive neighborhood in Mexico City.

“Please, Marisol, just one more week,” he pleaded, in the voice of a man who had forgotten what a full night’s sleep felt like.

“I’ll give you a raise.”

“It’s not a question of money, sir,” she replied, closing her suitcase.

Your children need stability.

They need! He stopped, biting his tongue.

“They need their mother,” Robson thought, mentally completing the sentence that Marisol didn’t dare to utter.

As if I could forget it.
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The twins’ screams increased in intensity.

Robson closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.

At 38, he had built a real estate empire from scratch.

He had negotiated with the toughest businessmen in Latin America.

But she felt completely helpless in the face of two 4-year-olds who simply couldn’t sleep at night.

“I understand,” he finally said.

Gregorio will pay him until the end of the month.

When Marisol left, Robson slowly climbed the marble stairs, each step heavier than the last.

She found Víor and Vinicius on the floor of their room, surrounded by scattered toys, with tears running down their identical faces.

His heart sank like it did every time he saw his children suffer.
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“Daddy, we want mommy,” said Victor, the twin who always spoke first.

“Mommy sang to us,” Vinicius added, hugging a teddy bear tightly.

Robson knelt beside them, ignoring how his multi-thousand-peso Italian suit crumpled against the floor.

“I know, little ones,” he said, pulling them towards his chest.

“I know.

That night, like every other night for months, Robson spent hours trying to get the twins to sleep.

He read them stories and sang to them in his terrible businessman’s voice, accustomed to giving orders, not singing lullabies.

He even slept between them in the enormous children’s bed designed especially for the two of them.

Nothing worked.

At 3 a.m., when they finally gave in to exhaustion, Robson returned to his office, his face buried in his hands, stared at the framed photograph on his desk, and then turned away, unable to hold that gaze any longer.

He picked up his phone and called Elena, his personal assistant.
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“I need another babysitter,” he said without saying hello.

“Tomorrow, Mr. Bernabéu, it’s 3 a.m.

Elena replied in a surprisingly clear voice.

“Do you think I don’t know?” he replied more abruptly than he intended.

Sorry, Elena.

I haven’t slept well.

I understand, sir, but we’ve exhausted every premium nanny agency in town.

“Perhaps we should consider what?” Robson asked impatiently.

My niece just moved to the city from Oaxaca.

She has experience caring for children, although she’s never worked for, well, someone like you.

Roxson gave a dry laugh.

Someone like me.
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“You mean a disastrous father who can’t get his kids to sleep? I meant someone in his position,” Elena clarified diplomatically.

Jessica is simple, but has a gift with children.

She worked in a daycare in Oaxaca for years.

Do you have any references? Training.

She studied early childhood education, although she did not finish due to financial problems.

As for references, I can vouch for her personally.

Robson ran a hand through his hair, messing it up.

Under other circumstances, I would never consider hiring someone without a flawless resume and multiple interviews, but I was desperate.

“Bring on the morning,” he finally conceded early in the morning.

At 8 o’clock the next morning, as Roxson reviewed contracts in his office after another nearly sleepless night, Gregorio, the butler, announced the arrival of Elena and her niece.

“Show them in,” he ordered without looking up from the documents.

Elena’s heels clicked against the marble floor, followed by softer footsteps.

When Roxson finally looked up, he found himself staring at a young woman who looked completely out of place in the opulence of the mansion.

She wore simple jeans, a plain white blouse, and her brown hair was pulled back in a practical ponytail.

She didn’t wear any makeup, except maybe a touch of lip gloss.

What caught his attention, however, were her large, expressive, amber eyes, with a warmth that seemed to light up the room.

“Mr. Bernabéu, let me introduce you to my niece Jessica Ramírez,” Elena said.

“Good morning, sir,” Jessica greeted with a slight accent that betrayed her southern origins.

Thank you for having me.

Robson stood up and mechanically extended his hand, surprised by the firmness of Jessica’s grip.

“Elena told me about your experience with children,” he said, studying her with the analytical eye he reserved for evaluating potential investments.

“Do you know why you’re here?” Jessica nodded.

“My aunt explained to me that her children have difficulty sleeping.

They are 4-year-old twins.
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” Correct.

Yes, Victor and Vinicius, Robson confirmed.

And difficulty sleeping is an understatement.

They haven’t had a full night’s sleep in months, which means neither have I.

Three professional babysitters have been chased away.

I expected to see apprehension on Jessica’s face.

Instead, he saw determination.

“I would like to meet you,” he said simply.

Robson raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the young woman’s confidence.

“Follow me.”

” As they climbed the stairs to the twins’ room, Robson found himself assessing Jessica from a professional perspective.

He didn’t seem like the kind of person I’d normally hire—without connections, without the polish of expensive schools, without the wardrobe that screamed “I belong in this world!”—and yet there was something about his presence that felt comforting.
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Before opening the door, Robson stopped her.

I must warn you, this is one of your rough mornings.

The previous nanny left yesterday and that has upset them even more.

Jessica smiled, a genuine smile that lit up her face.

Children have good reasons for their behavior, Mr. Bernabéu.

They just need someone to discover them.

Robson opened the door to find a battlefield.

Toys strewn everywhere, bedding ripped from the beds, and the twins at the center of the chaos, their faces red from crying.

Two miniature versions of the same man, with the same dark hair and the same intense eyes, currently swollen from crying.

He waited for the usual reaction, Soc, concern or that condescending gesture of poor things.

But Jessica did something completely unexpected.

He sat down on the floor, exactly where he was, crossing his legs as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Hello, he said softly.

My name is Jessica.

I love trains.

Do you like trains? The twins, surprised by this strange adult who had joined them on the ground instead of trying to lift them up, stopped their trains momentarily.

“We have a big train,” Vinicius said after a moment of silence, pointing to a corner where an elaborate toy railroad track lay.

“Really,” Jessica replied with genuine interest.

“Would you show me how it works?” To Robson’s amazement, Victor stood up and took Jessica’s hand, leading her toward the train.

Vinicius quickly followed him.

Within minutes, the three of them were sitting around the track with Jessica asking questions about every car, every miniature building, every little detail of the railway world the twins had built.

Robson stood in the doorway, watching with a mixture of puzzlement and something else, something he couldn’t name.

The soyos had ceased, replaced by enthusiastic explanations and occasional laughter.

Jessica looked up and met Robson’s gaze.

For an instant, something passed between them, a silent recognition.

“We’ll be fine, Mr. Bernabéu,” she said softly.

You can leave us alone if you have work to do.

She was a stranger, a young woman from Oaxaca with no impressive credentials, and yet Roxson found himself nodding, instinctively trusting her.

“I’ll leave them in your hands,” he replied, surprised by the sudden lightness he felt in his chest.

“I’ll be in my office if you need me.”

” As he walked down the stairs, Rodson heard something he hadn’t heard in months, the clear, carefree laughter of his children.

He stopped dead in his tracks with one hand on the railing, letting the sound wash over him.

Maybe, just maybe, Elena was right about her niece.

The day passed with unusual tranquility at the Bernabé mansion.

From his office, Robson could occasionally hear laughter and animated conversations.

sounds that had been absent for too long.

Several times she found herself distracted from her video conferences by her gaze drifting toward the door, as if she could see right through it to where her children were with the new nanny.

In the middle of the afternoon, unable to contain his curiosity, Rodson decided to casually pass by where they were.

He found them in the garden under the shade of a hundred-year-old egg tree.

Jessica had spread a blanket on the perfectly manicured lawn and the three of them were sitting on it, concentrating on what looked like an art project.

“Daddy, look what we’re doing,” Víor exclaimed, seeing him with an enthusiasm that made Robson’s heart sink.

He came closer and saw that they were painting stones collected from the garden, transforming them into colorful animals.

“Jessica says they make alebrijes in Oaxaca,” Vinicius explained, carefully pronouncing the new word.

“We make stone alebrijes.

“They’re so pretty,” Robson commented, genuinely impressed by the level of detail his children’s tiny fingers had achieved under Jessica’s guidance.

It’s a technique I learned from my grandmother, she explained, looking up.

Children have natural talent.

Their eyes met and again Robson felt that strange connection, as if Jessica could see beyond his successful businessman facade to the vulnerable, tired man hiding behind.

“Would you join us?” she asked, offering him a paintbrush with a smile that seemed to contain a silent challenge.

Robson hesitated.

I had three more video conferences scheduled, documents to review, and multi-million-dollar decisions to make.

“Daddy, please,” Víor begged.

Just a little while, added Vinicius.

Roxson surprised himself by unbuttoning the cuff of his shirt and sitting down on the blanket.

He only granted a moment, taking the brush Jessica offered him, their fingers briefly brushing.

The little while turned into an hour during which Robson Bernabéu, Mexico’s feared real estate shark, completely forgot about his business while clumsily painting a jaguar-shaped rock.

The laughter of her children when they compared their work with hers, noticeably better, was the most beautiful sound she had heard in months.

When he finally remembered his commitments and stood up to return to his office, he found himself inexplicably light, as if he had left an invisible weight on that blanket in the garden.

“Thank you,” he said to Jessica with a sincerity that surprised him.

I haven’t seen them like this in a long time.

She just nodded as if she understood perfectly.

“The real test will be tonight,” he responded pragmatically.

Sleep is sacred to them as well as to you.

Dinner passed with the same unusual peace.

The twins, normally restless at the large dining room table, ate without complaint and even excitedly told their father everything they had done during the day with Jessica.

She had excused herself to dine in the kitchen with the staff despite Roxson’s invitation to join them.

It’s better to set clear boundaries at the beginning, he had explained gently.

It is important for children to understand my role.

When bedtime came, Robson went up to the twins’ room with a mixture of hope and skepticism.

The past few weeks had been a nightly battle of crying, pleading, and eventually total exhaustion that barely allowed for a few hours of restful sleep.

He found Jessica sitting between the two beds reading a story.

The twins, already in their pajamas and with their teeth brushed, a miracle in itself, listened to her with absolute attention.

Robson stood in the doorway, unwilling to interrupt, and then Jessica narrated, changing her voice for each character.

The brave rabbit said to the moon, “I’m not afraid of the darkness, because I know you’ll always be up there watching over me with your silver light.

“Vinicius yawned, his eyelids growing heavier.

Víor had already curled up against his pillow, although he was still struggling to keep his eyes open.

The moon smiled at the rabbit.

Jessica continued.

Her voice now a melodic whisper and wrapped him in a hug of soft light, like a glowing blanket that would protect him until dawn.

Robson counted his breath as he looked at something that seemed impossible.

Her children, her restless and sleepless twins, peacefully yielding to sleep, without tears, without struggle.

Just the natural rhythm of childlike tiredness after a day full of activities.

Jessica continued the story for a few more minutes, making sure they were both fast asleep.

Then, with delicate movements, she arranged the blankets around each child and silently stood up.

Only then did he notice Robson at the door.

They exchanged a glance in the dimness, illuminated only by the small night lamp.

No words were needed.

Robson felt an intense emotion he couldn’t name, a lump in his throat that made it difficult for him to speak.

With a gesture, he invited Jessica to leave the room.

How did it begin when they were in the hallway? Her voice was an astonished whisper.

Jessica smiled, a tired but satisfied smile.

I tired them out, he replied simply.

They needed to expend that pent-up energy, that anxiety.

Children express with their bodies what they cannot put into words.

“Three professional nannies couldn’t pull this off,” Robson murmured, peering through the half-open door where his children were peacefully sleeping.

“Maybe because they were too busy being professional,” Jessica suggested without malice.

Sometimes children need simplicity, they need to feel safe, not perfect.

Robson watched her in the dim light of the hallway.

Without the filter of constant worry, he was able to truly appreciate her for the first time.

She wasn’t conventionally beautiful by the standards of the women he usually associated with, but there was something luminous about her, an authenticity that was more appealing than any manufactured perfection.

You’re staying, aren’t you? she asked, surprised to hear the vulnerability in her own voice.

I mean, the position is yours if you want it.

Jessica seemed to consider it for a moment, as if she were evaluating something beyond the job offer.

“I’ll stay,” he finally replied.

“The children need me.

“Me too,” Robson thought, though he didn’t dare say it out loud.

“Good,” he said.

Instead, Elena will show you to your room in the staff wing.

Unless you prefer, we can set up a room near the children if you deem it necessary.

“The staff wing is fine,” she replied firmly.

As I said, clear limits.

Robson nodded, respecting his professionalism.

“Of course, we will discuss the terms of the contract tomorrow.

salary, days off, benefits.

Jessica stopped him with a gentle gesture.

Mr. Bernabéu, it’s been a long day for everyone.

Maybe you should rest too.

Let’s take advantage of the fact that the children are asleep.

There was a gentleness in his rebuke that would disarm even the toughest negotiator.

Robson found himself smiling.

A genuine smile that hadn’t appeared on his face for a long time.

You’re right.

Good night, Jessica.

Good evening, Mr. Bernabéu.

Robson watched her walk down the hall, her simple but dignified figure against the luxurious backdrop of her mansion.

It was as if he belonged to another world, one perhaps more authentic than his own.

That night, for the first time in months, Roxson Bernabéu slept for eight hours without being startled awake by his children’s crying.

As the dawn light began to filter through the curtains in her room, she had a moment of panic, thinking something was wrong.

How was it possible he’d slept so long? He hurriedly got up and ran to the twins’ room, only to find them still fast asleep, with peaceful expressions he hadn’t seen on their faces since before.

He leaned against the door frame, watching them breathe evenly.

A strange feeling came over him, a mixture of relief, gratitude, and something else he couldn’t or wouldn’t identify.

something to do with the young woman who had brought this peace to her home.

She returned to her room and for the first time in years allowed herself the luxury of going back to bed after waking up, not to sleep, but to gaze at the ceiling and reflect on how, in just one day, a stranger from Oaxaca had managed to transform the energy of her home.

It was too early to feel
hopeful, he told himself.

Too early to let your guard down.

But as he listened to the peaceful silence of the morning, Robson Bernabéu recognized that something had changed inside him, and that change had a name: Jessica Ramírez.

The following weeks brought a gradual but undeniable transformation to the Bernabé mansion.

The twins flourished under Jessica’s care, developing healthy routines that included not only sleeping through the night, but also regular times for eating, playing, and learning.

The house, once a tense space filled with crying and frustration, now echoed with children’s laughter and animated conversation.

For Robson, the most significant change was rediscovering his own children.

With adequate rest, his mind was clearer.

his patience restored.

He started coming home early from work some evenings, something unthinkable months ago, attracted by the dynamic Jessica had created with Víor and Vinicius.

One Friday afternoon, Robson returned home to find the front hall filled with what appeared to be makeshift tents made of sheets.

“What is this?” asked Gregor, who appeared with his usual quiet efficiency.

“Miss Jessica has organized an expedition, sir,” the butler explained with a slight smile that betrayed his usual composure.

The young gentlemen are exploring the Amazon rainforest, as I understand it.

Robson put down his briefcase and loosened his tie, intrigued.

Following the sounds of laughter and roars from pretend animals, he found Jessica and the twins in the main living room, now transformed into a jungle landscape thanks to strategically relocated houseplants.

Drawings of animals hung on the walls and what appeared to be a waterfall made of blue cellophane paper.

“Dad!” Vinicius shouted when he saw him.

“We are in the jungle.

“I’m a jaguar,” roared Victor, leaping from behind a sofa wearing a painted cardboard mask.

Jessica, kneeling beside what appeared to be a base camp made of cushions, greeted him with a slightly embarrassed smile.

Sorry for the mess, Mr. Bernabéo.

I promise everything will be back in place before dinner.

Don’t apologize, he replied, surprising himself.

It’s wonderful.

And it was.

Seeing her children so involved, so happy, was worth more than any impeccable decoration or any artificial order.

“Come explore with us, Dad,” Victor pleaded, tugging at his hand.

We need a brave explorer.

Robson would have found an elegant excuse before.

He would have promised to join later knowing he never would.

He would have returned to his office, to his emails, to his adult world where he had total control, but something had changed inside him.

“Give me 5 minutes to change,” he replied, surprising both the children and Jessica.

“An explorer can’t possibly go into the jungle in a suit and tie, can he?” Jessica’s eyes lit up with something that seemed like approval, and for some reason, that look gave her an inexplicable satisfaction.

When he returned wearing jeans and a casual t-shirt he rarely wore, the twins greeted him with shouts of joy.

Jessica handed him an explorer hat made out of newspaper.

Welcome to the expedition, Mr. Bernabéu.

He said in a formal tone that contrasted comically with the situation.

We are about to discover an unknown species of butterfly.

For the next hour, Robson Bernabéu, the man whose competitors trembled in boardrooms, crawled under tables.

He hid behind curtains and roared like a jaguar chasing its cubs through the jungle of his own living room.

When they finally captured the butterfly, a beautiful hand-painted paper cutout by Jessica was dropped on the floor next to the children, breathless, but strangely happy.

“You’re very good at roaring, Dad,” Vinicius commented with professional seriousness.

“The best jaguar,” Víor agreed.

Jessica watched them from the side with a smile she tried to contain, but it overflowed in her eyes.

When their eyes met, Robson felt a connection that went beyond gratitude for taking good care of his children.

“Will you join us for dinner?” he asked impulsively.

Jessica looked surprised.

“Dinner? I usually eat with the staff.” “Please,” the twins insisted in unison, as if they had rehearsed.

Something in Jessica’s expression changed, a momentary vulnerability Robson had never seen in her.

“If the children insist, it finally happened, it would be a pleasure.

”That night at dinner, Robson watched Jessica interact with her children.

The way he listened to them with genuine attention, the way he gently guided them to use the correct cutlery without embarrassing them, the way he turned every little lesson into a game.

It wasn’t just that she was good at her job.

There was something more, an authenticity that he hadn’t found in the people around him for a long time.

“Why did you choose to work with children?” he asked, when the twins were distracted by dessert.

Jessica considered the question for a moment, as she did with everything she was asked, showing a respect for words that was unusual.

“Because children live in the present,” he finally replied.

They have no hidden agendas, they hold no grudges.

If they are happy, they show it.

If they are sad too.

There is an honesty in them that paused as if afraid of having said too much.

“What’s missing from the adult world?” Robson added.

She felt a silent communication passing between them.

“And why did you leave Oaxaca?” he continued, genuinely interested.

A shadow briefly crossed Jessica’s face.

Sometimes we need to start over, he replied, his tone indicating that he did not wish to go any further.

Mexico City offers opportunities that my people don’t have.

Robson recognized the limits and did not insist.

There was something in her past that Jessica wasn’t ready to share, and he more than anyone understood the need to keep certain doors closed.

After dinner, when the twins were ready for bed, Robson joined the nighttime routine for the first time.

She watched as Jessica read a story, sang a soft Oacan song, and finally blessed each child with a gesture that seemed part tradition, part personal ritual.

A small cross on the forehead followed by a soft kiss on each cheek.

It’s to scare away bad dreams, he explained in a whisper when the children were already asleep.

deeply.

My grandmother did it with me.

They left the room together, walking in comfortable silence down the dimly lit hallway.

“Thank you,” Robson said finally.

“Not just for making them sleep, for everything.

Jessica looked at him with an intensity that disconcerted him.

“They are wonderful children, Mr. Bernabéu.

They just needed someone to really listen to them.

“Robson,” he said, “please call me Robson when we are alone.

Mr. Bernabéu, you make me feel like my father.

“She seemed to consider the request, weighing the implications of that small familiarity.

Robson finally tried, and the sound of his name on Jessica’s lips produced an inexplicable reaction in him, a warmth that spread from his chest.

Jessica replied as if sealing a pact.

They stared at each other for a moment that extended beyond what was professionally appropriate.

Robson had a sudden impulse to move closer, to break that carefully maintained distance between them.

But Jessica took a step back, almost imperceptible.

“I should rest,” she said, formality returning to her tone.

“Tomorrow the children want to go to the Chapultepec Zoo.

“The spell was broken, but something remained floating between them.

“A possibility.

“Of course,” Robson replied.

“In fact, if you don’t mind, I’d like to accompany you.

The surprise on Jessica’s face was evident.

He doesn’t work on Saturdays.

Some things are more important than work, he replied, surprising himself with the sincerity of his words.

The smile Jessica gave her then made it worth canceling the meeting she had actually scheduled for the next day.

“The children will be delighted,” she said.

“Good evening, Robson.

Good night, Jessica.

He watched her walk down the hall, her simple yet graceful figure against the ostentatious luxury of her mansion.

When he disappeared from sight, Robson remained motionless, processing the conflicting feelings churning inside him.

He had vowed never to get emotionally involved again after being left alone with two young children.

She had built walls around her heart, taking refuge in work, in responsibilities, in the idea that her only duty was to provide for her children and protect them.

And yet, there he was, feeling those walls begin to crack because of a young woman from Oaxaca who had come into his life by chance.

It’s just gratitude, he told himself as he walked back to his room.

Gratitude because it has brought peace to this house.

But deep down, Robson Bernabéu knew he was lying.

What he felt when he saw Jessica interact with her children, when he heard her speak with that mix of wisdom and simplicity, when he saw the light in her eyes when she smiled, went far beyond simple gratitude, and it terrified him.

The Chapultepecullía Zoo was busy that Saturday.

Entire families walked the paths.

Children excitedly pointed at the animals.

Vendors were selling cotton candy and colorful balloons.

In the crowd, the Bernabéus presented an unusual sight: an obviously wealthy man, though dressed with studied simplicity; two identical children jumping with excitement; and a young woman whose simple clothing contrasted with the confidence of her movements.

For Robson, the experience was almost surreal.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had visited a public place without the protection of bipo reserved areas.

Discreet bodyguards.

He had insisted on driving himself, leaving his chauffeur at home, in an impulse of normality that now, surrounded by the bustle of the people, provoked contradictory feelings in him.

“Dad, look at the monkeys,” Victor exclaimed, tugging at his hand excitedly.

“They look like you when you’re angry,” Vinicius added with a laugh, causing Jessica to cover her smile with her hand.

“Oh! Yes,” Robson replied, feigning indignation as he lifted Vinicius into his arms.

“What if the monkey throws you into the pit?” Her children’s crystalline, carefree laughter drew smiling glances from nearby families.

For the first time in years, Robson felt observed not as a millionaire businessman, but simply as a father enjoying himself with his children.

It was liberating.

Jessica walked beside them, maintaining a professional distance, but close enough to intervene if the twins became overexcited.

Robson watched her surreptitiously, captivated by the naturalness with which she carried herself.

She wore her hair down today, falling in soft waves over her shoulders, and she wore simple jeans with an embroidered blouse that clearly came from her homeland.

She didn’t wear any makeup, except maybe a touch of lip gloss.

She was so different from the women he usually associated with that he found her fascinating.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, surprising him in her observation.

No, nothing, he replied, looking away.

I just thought you looked different today.

Jessica blushed slightly, and Robson found that natural blush more beautiful than any expensive cosmetics.

It’s my day off, technically, she explained, even though I’m here with you.

I appreciate you agreeing to come, he said sincerely.

I wouldn’t have been able to handle the twins on my own in this place.

She gave him an appraising look.

I think you underestimate yourself, Robson.

You are a better father than you think.

Something about the way he said her name, with that mixture of respect and familiarity, brought a warmth to her chest.

The morning passed between animal exhibits, ice cream melting in the sun, and Roxson discovering sides of his children that were unknown to him—Víor’s fascination with reptiles.

The way Vinicius perfectly imitated the sound of lions.

The way they both competed to impress Jessica with facts about animals they had learned from her.

“They’ve been studying a zoology textbook,” Jessica explained when Robson expressed surprise at the twins’ knowledge.

“They are incredibly intelligent.

They just need someone to feed their curiosity.

“You do it,” he replied in a tone that went beyond simple professional recognition.

Their gazes met briefly, a silent current passing between them, until the twins’ excited cries in front of the tiger habitat broke the moment.

At noon, they had a picnic in a
green area of the park.

Jessica had prepared a basket with sandwiches, cut fruit, and natural juice, rejecting Robson’s suggestion of taking them to an exclusive restaurant.

“Children need this,” he had insisted.

Simplicity, contact with nature, the most expensive is not always the best for them.

Now, as she watched her children devour homemade sandwiches on a blanket spread out on the grass, with bigger appetites than they’d ever shown in Michelin-starred restaurants.

Robson acknowledged that Jessica was right.

He had never had a picnic before, he confessed, nibbling at his ham and cheese sandwich, surprisingly delicious in its simplicity.

Jessica looked at him in amazement.

Never, not even as a child.

Robson shook his head.

My family wasn’t like that.

My father believed that success meant moving away from the common, from the popular.

The parks were for those who couldn’t afford private clubs.

“And you believe that too?” she asked, her tone free of judgment, just genuine curiosity.

Robson watched his children now chasing a butterfly a few feet from the blanket, their laughter mingling with that of other children nearby.

Then he looked at the sandwich in his hand, the juice in a simple plastic cup, the
colorfully patterned blanket on the grass.

“No,” he replied with surprising certainty.

I think I was wrong about a lot of things.

The smile Jessica gave him then was worth more than any million-dollar deal.

After lunch, while the twins spent their last energies in a children’s play area, Robson and Jessica sat on a nearby bench watching them.

“Thank you,” he said suddenly.

“Why?” she asked, confused.

for showing me this, he responded by making an all-encompassing gesture.

The park, the children playing, the simple but perfect afternoon for teaching me how to be a father.

Jessica shook her head gently.

I didn’t teach you anything, I just reminded you of what you already knew.

Sometimes we get so caught up in our responsibilities that we forget the simple thing: being present.

You’re very wise for a 28-year-old, Roxson commented with a smile.

And you’re too obtuse to be so successful, she replied with a flash of humor in her eyes.

Robson burst out laughing, surprised by her audacity.

Touche, I guess I deserve it.

A comfortable silence settled between them as they watched the twins go up and down a slide.

Jessica began Robson, gathering courage for something she had been considering all morning.

There’s a charity gala next Friday.

It’s to raise funds for schools in underserved areas.

I usually have the kids with a babysitter, but I was wondering if you’d like to join us as a guest, not an employee.

The surprise on Jessica’s face was evident.

He stood motionless, his eyes fixed on the children, although Robson doubted he was actually seeing them at that moment.

It wouldn’t be appropriate, he finally replied in a low voice.

“Why not?” he insisted, although he already knew the answer.

Jessica turned to him, her expression serious.

Because I’m your employee, Robson.

Because people would talk.

Because it would send a confusing message to children.

What if I didn’t care what people said? A sad smile appeared on Jessica’s lips.

But you care and you should care.

Your position, your image are part of who you are.

That’s not true, he protested.

That doesn’t define me.

Maybe not, but it does define the world you live in, the world your children will grow up in, she replied gently.

I appreciate the invitation, I really do, but it wouldn’t be right.

Before Robson could insist, Víor came running, her face lit with excitement.

Dad, Jessica.

Vinicius got stuck in the tunnel and doesn’t want to come out.

The moment was broken.

Jessica immediately stood up, professional as ever, and followed Víor toward the games.

Robson followed with a mixture of frustration and admiration for Jessica’s steadfastness.

The rest of the afternoon passed without further mention of the rejected invitation, but something had changed between them.

A line had been drawn, recognized, and Robson was unsure whether to respect it or attempt to cross it.

Back at the mansion, with the twins asleep in the back seat, exhausted after a day of adventures, the silence in the car was eloquent.

“What you said in the park,” Robson began, keeping his voice low so as not to wake the children, about how I care what people think.

“It wasn’t a criticism,” Jessica quickly clarified.

“Just an observation.

I know, but it made me think.

“He paused, searching for the right words.

For years I’ve lived worried about appearances, about meeting expectations—my own, my father’s, and society’s—and I hadn’t realized how much of that I was passing on to my children.

Jessica listened to him attentively, her soft profile intermittently illuminated by the streetlights.

I don’t want them to grow up like that, he continued.

I don’t want you to think that a person’s value lies in their bank account, their last name, or how exclusive the places they frequent are.

You’re a good father, Robson, Jessica said softly.

Your children know that you love them.

That’s what they’ll remember, not the lessons about social status.

Thanks to you, he replied before you arrived.

I was so lost, so focused on staying in control, that I forgot the essentials.

When they arrived at the mansion, Robson insisted on carrying Vinicius himself while Jessica carried Vito.

They carried him silently up to his room, changed him into his pajamas, and put him to bed with synchronized movements that spoke of a routine developed together.

As they left the children’s room, they stopped in the hallway, as they had done so many other nights.

Jessica started talking about the gala.

You don’t have to explain yourself.

Robson interrupted her.

I understand your reasons and respect them.

Thank you, she replied with obvious relief.

It is important for me to maintain certain boundaries.

I know.

They looked at each other in the dimness of the hallway and Robson felt that connection again, that silent understanding that went beyond words.

“Good night, Robson,” Jessica finally said, breaking the moment.

“Good night, Jessica.

“He watched her walk down the hall like so many other nights, but this time with the certainty that his feelings had crossed a line from which there was no return.

It was no longer just admiration or gratitude that he felt for his children’s nanny.

It was something much deeper, much more terrifying, and absolutely inappropriate, according to all the social rules he had respected all his life.

That night, as he stared at his bedroom ceiling, Robson Bernabéu was faced with an uncomfortable truth.

He was falling in love with Jessica Ramirez and had no idea what to do about it.

On Thursday afternoon, the Bernabéu mansion was unusually quiet.

The twins had gone out with Gregorio and another employee to a children’s theater performance, an outing planned by Jessica to give them new cultural experiences.

The nanny, however, had not accompanied them.

For the first time since his arrival, he had asked for the afternoon off for personal reasons.

Robson sat in his office trying to concentrate on the financial reports on his screen, but his mind kept wandering.

Jessica’s rejection of his invitation to the charity gala continued to weigh on his mind, not so much because of the rejection itself, but because of what the unbridgeable gap between their worlds implied.

The doorbell at the main gate rang, bringing him out of his thoughts.

Minutes later, Elena, his personal assistant and Jessica’s aunt, appeared at the door of his office.

“Mr. Bernabéu, excuse the interruption,” he said with a worried expression.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” “Sure, Elena.

“What’s wrong?” The woman closed the door behind her and approached the desk, visibly uncomfortable.

“It’s about Jessica,” he began, choosing his words carefully.

Normally I wouldn’t interfere, but I’m worried.

Robson felt a pang of unease.

Okay, did something happen? Physically she was fine, but Elena paused as if considering whether to continue.

Today he had a visitor in the apartment he shares with me.

A man from Oaxaca, her ex-fiancé.

Robson tried to maintain a neutral expression, although the word fiancé had provoked a visceral reaction that he struggled to control.

I didn’t know Jessica was engaged.

It was a complicated situation, Elena explained.

Raúl is the son of one of the most influential men in his town.

The engagement was rather arranged under family pressure.

Jessica broke up with him when she decided to come to the capital, but he hasn’t accepted the ending.

“And why are you telling me this?” Robson asked, maintaining a professional tone that didn’t reflect the storm of emotions he was feeling.

Elena looked at him directly with the frankness he had always valued in her.

Because I’ve seen how you look at her, sir, and I’ve seen how she looks at you.

Robson tensed uncomfortably at the direct remark.

Elena, I appreciate your concern, but Jessica and I are strictly professional.

With all due respect, sir, we both know that’s not entirely true, she replied gently.

I’m not here to judge.

Jessica is like a daughter to me and I’ve seen how she’s blossomed working with your children and with you.

Robson remained silent, unable to deny the obvious.

The reason I’m telling you this, Elena continued, is because Raúl hasn’t left.

He’s pressuring her to return to Oaxaca with him.

And I’m worried that Jessica, out of loyalty to her family and her roots, might consider doing so.

The idea of Jessica returning to Oaxaca, disappearing from their lives, provoked in Roxson a feeling of emptiness that surprised him by its intensity.

“What can I do?” he asked, finally abandoning the pretext of disinterest.

Talk to her, Elena replied simply.

Jessica is proud and reserved.

She would never tell him about her personal problems because she’s afraid of appearing unprofessional, but right now she needs to know that she has options, that her life here matters.

Elena stood up having said what she needed to say.

Jessica will be back in about an hour.

It will be in the back garden near the greenhouse.

He likes to sit there when he needs to think.

When Elena left, Robson sat motionless in his chair, processing the information.

Jessica engaged.

Jessica pressured to return to Oaxaca.

Jessica, who had brought light and order to their chaotic family life, potentially disappearing from it.

The thought was unbearable.

An hour later, just as Elena had predicted, Robson found Jessica sitting on a stone bench next to the mansion’s small greenhouse.

She was wearing jeans and a simple white blouse, her hair tied back carelessly.

And her gaze was lost in the rosebushes that she herself had helped revive over the past few weeks.

She looked beautiful and vulnerable at the same time, a combination that tightened something inside Robson’s chest.

“Can I accompany you?” he asked, approaching cautiously.

Jessica flinched slightly, but nodded, quickly composing her expression.

Of course, have the children returned from the theater yet? Not yet.

Robson sat next to her, keeping a respectful distance.

“How was your free afternoon? Good,” she answered too quickly.

Just some pending matters.

An awkward silence settled between them.

Robson knew he had to be direct, but he searched for the right words.

Jessica, Elena told me about your visit today.

” he said finally.

Jessica’s face tightened, a mixture of surprise and something akin to betrayal crossing her features.

“He shouldn’t have done that,” he muttered.

“These are personal matters that do not affect my work.

“She didn’t tell me because I was a gossip,” Robson clarified.

“She’s worried about you.

And frankly, after listening to it, so did I.

Jessica stood up, obviously uncomfortable.

I appreciate the concern, but I can handle my own problems.

I don’t want my personal affairs to interfere with my work here.

Robson also stood up, feeling that if he let her walk away now, something important would be lost between them.

I’m not speaking as your employer, Jessica.

I’m speaking as someone who stopped searching for the right words.

someone who cares about you.

She looked at him.

Then she really looked at him with those eyes that seemed to see beyond the facades she had built up over the years.

“Raúl wants me to return to Oaxaca,” he finally said.

His voice barely a whisper.

He says my place is there with him, with my family.

“And you want to go back?” Robson asked, dreading the answer.

Jessica looked away at the rose bushes.

When I arrived in Mexico City, I was escaping expectations, traditions, and a future that others had planned for me.

paused, but now I have reason to stay.

“The kids love you,” Robson said, his heart pounding.

“I don’t know what we would do without you.

“It’s not just the kids,” Jessica replied, gathering the courage to look at him again.

“And that’s what scares me.

“The honesty in his words, the vulnerability he showed, broke down the last barriers Robson had tried to maintain.

“It scares me too,” he confessed.

Because I never expected to feel this again.

Because it’s complicated, because there are 1 reasons why it shouldn’t work.

And yet we can’t, Jessica interrupted, though her voice lacked conviction.

I am your children’s nanny.

We come from completely different worlds.

People would talk.

People always talk, Robson replied, taking a step closer.

But for the first time in my life I don’t care what they say.

You should care, she insisted.

You have a position, an image, responsibilities.

My only real responsibility is to my children, and I’ve never seen them happier than since you arrived.

Another step towards her.

You didn’t just teach them how to sleep, Jessica, you taught us how to live again.

Tears sprang to Jessica’s eyes and Robson felt an almost irresistible urge to move closer, to close the distance between them, but he restrained himself, respecting the decision she had to make.

I can’t offer you a conventional future, he continued, his voice deep with emotion.

I can’t promise you it will be easy, but I can promise you that I’ve never cared about anyone the way I care about you.

And it’s not gratitude, it’s not just because you’re wonderful with my children, it’s because it’s you, Jessica.

Just you.

A tear rolled down Jessica’s cheek.

Robson raised his hand briskly and when she didn’t move away, he gently wiped it with his thumb.

“If you decide to return to Oaxaca, I will understand,” he said, although the idea was painful.

“But I want you to know that you have a place here.

“Not just as my children’s nanny, but as she stopped, recognizing that she was moving too fast, as whatever you want us to be.

Jessica closed her eyes for a moment, as if processing his words, the touch of his hand still on her cheek.

“I’m scared,” he finally confessed.

Not from you, but from myself, “from wanting something that seems impossible.

“What is impossible, Jessica?” Robson asked softly.

She opened her eyes and in them Robson saw a decision forming, a courage being born.

“The impossible thing is to pretend that I don’t feel anything when I’m with you,” he replied in a trembling but firm voice.

“The impossible thing is to imagine leaving this house, leaving the children, leaving you.

“The world seemed to stop around them.

The garden, the mansion, the entire city of Mexico disappeared, leaving only that moment suspended between two people who, against all odds, had found something priceless in each other.

Robson finally closed the distance between them, leaning in slowly, giving Jessica time to step back if she wished, but she remained motionless, her gaze fixed on his, until their lips met in a tentative kiss like a question.

Jessica’s response was immediate, her hands moving up to Robson’s shoulders, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepened, transforming into something that expressed everything they had been holding back for weeks: desire, fear, hope, and a deeper feeling neither of them was ready to name.

When they finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Robson leaned his forehead against Jessica’s.

“Stay,” he whispered.

“Not as an employee, not out of obligation.

Stay because you want to be here with me, with us.

Jessica slowly felt a smile forming on her lips.

“I’m staying,” he replied, sealing his decision with another brief kiss.

But we’ll have to find a way to make it work.

For the children, for the children, Robson agreed.

And for us.

The sound of children’s voices and approaching footsteps broke the moment.

The twins were returning from the theater.

Jessica pulled away slightly, but Robson took her hand, interlacing her fingers with his.

Ready? she asked, her meaning going far beyond facing the children at that moment.

Jessica squeezed his hand, her smile lighting up her entire face.

List.

Six months later, the transformation of the Bernabéu mansion was evident to anyone who had seen it before.

The curtains, once always closed, now let in plenty of natural light.

The walls, once decorated with expensive abstract art, had been partially replaced by colorful children’s drawings framed with the same care as the collectibles.

And the solemn silence that had previously dominated the place had given way to laughter, conversation, and the occasional traditional or Aacan music.

But the most profound change was not in the decor, but in its inhabitants.

Robson Bernabéu was finishing a video conference in his office when the door opened without warning and two identical whirlwinds burst into the room.

“Dad, everything is ready,” Victor exclaimed, jumping unceremoniously onto his lap.

Jessica says we can now show you the surprise, Vinicius added, tugging at her hand impatiently.

Robson feigned seriousness in front of his on-screen colleagues.

Gentlemen, it seems I have an urgent matter to attend to.

We will continue tomorrow.

The executives on screen smiled knowingly before saying goodbye.

Robson Bernabéu’s reputation had changed as much as the man himself.

He was still respected for his business acumen, but he was no longer feared for his coldness.

The real estate shark had become human, to the surprise of the entire Mexican business world.

Letting yourself be guided by your children.

Now 5 years old and brimming with healthy energy, Roxson walked into the backyard.

As he crossed the threshold, he stopped dead in his tracks, amazed.

The entire garden had been transformed into a small Oaxacan village.

Colorful lanterns hung between the trees, tables covered with hand-embroidered tablecloths overflowed with traditional dishes, and in the center.

A small stage where musicians with traditional instruments were preparing to play.

Jessica, radiant in a vibrantly colored traditional Oacan dress, walked toward him with a smile that lit up her entire face.

“Happy anniversary,” she said, standing on tiptoe to kiss him softly.

“Six months since our first kiss.

Roxson wrapped his arms around her, still amazed by Jessica’s ability to surprise him.

“It’s wonderful,” he murmured against her hair.

“How did you organize all this?” “With help,” she replied, pointing to Elena, Gregorio, and the rest of the staff, all dressed in festive attire.

We wanted to celebrate not only our six months, but everything that has changed.

The twins ran towards them, pulling both of their hands to show them every detail of the celebration.

Robson was overcome with a full heart at what his life had become.

The party was intimate, but vibrant.

The twins, dressed in small embroidered keychains, danced with Jessica following the steps she had taught them.

Robson watched them from a table, chatting with Elena.

“I never imagined my niece would bring so much happiness to this house,” the woman commented with evident pride.

“To you and the children.

“She changed everything,” Robson replied truthfully.

He taught me what really matters, you know? Elena continued with a knowing smile.

In Oaxaca we have a saying.

When a soul finds its way back to the light, the entire universe celebrates.

Jessica was lost when she arrived in the city, fleeing from other people’s expectations.

You were lost in your pain and responsibilities.

And yet, they found each other.

Robson pondered those words as he watched Jessica laughing with her children.

The transformation had been mutual.

He had offered her a new beginning, away from the traditional pressures of her people.

She had taught him how to live again, to be the father his children needed.

When the music changed to a slower tempo, Robson approached them.

“Would you grant me this dance?” he asked Jessica, extending his hand.

I want to dance with Jessica too, Víor protested.

And Vinicius joined me.

Jessica knelt in front of them with a smile.

First I’ll dance with your dad and then with you two, my princes.

Does that sound okay to you? The twins nodded, satisfied with the compromise.

As they danced under the colored lights, Robson held Jessica close to his heart, marveling at how this unassuming woman had rebuilt her entire world from the ground up.

“I have something for you,” he said, pulling away slightly to take a small box out of his pocket.

I was going to wait until after dinner, but I think this is the perfect time.

Jessica looked at him curiously as he opened the box, revealing a beautiful ring with an amber stone surrounded by small diamonds.

“I chose it because it reminds me of your eyes,” Robson explained, his voice slightly shaky.

The first time I saw you was what impacted me the most.

The warmth in your eyes when you spoke to my children.

Jessica stared at the ring speechlessly, her eyes moistening.

It’s not an engagement ring, he continued.

Not yet.

I know it’s too soon and I want to do things right.

It’s a promise that I’ll be here.

Be patient until you’re ready.

Robson began, but was interrupted by the twins who had crept up and were now staring at the ring with huge eyes.

“Are you going to ask her to marry you, Dad?” Vinicius asked with complete innocence.

“Yes,” Víor exclaimed enthusiastically.

“Say yes, Jessica.

So you will be our mother forever.

Jessica and Robson exchanged surprised glances.

They had never spoken to the children about marriage, knowing they had to handle their relationship delicately for their own good.

Kids, Jessica and I are, Robson began, searching for the right words.

Actually, Jessica interrupted, kneeling down to be at the twins’ level.

There’s something I must tell you first.

To the three of them.

He looked at each of them, took a deep breath, and continued.

A few weeks ago I started to feel different.

At first I thought it was because of all the excitement in our lives, but then he gave Robson a special look.

I went to the doctor yesterday while you were at school.

Robson stared at her, hardly daring to hope for what her words seemed to suggest.

At about 7 months, Jessica continued holding the twins’ hands.

You two are going to have a little brother or sister.

The silence that followed lasted barely a second before the twins burst into shouts of joy.

Robson, momentarily paralyzed by shock, finally reacted by hugging Jessica so tightly that he almost lifted her off her feet.

It’s true, he whispered against her ear, his voice breaking with emotion.

We’re going to have a baby.

Jessica felt tears running freely down her cheeks.

I wanted to find the perfect moment to tell you.

And then you threw this party and you pulled out that ring.

Robson kissed her.

A kiss full of promise and future, barely aware of the applause and cheers that erupted around them as the staff realized what was happening.

“I think this changes things,” he said when they finally broke apart, both breathless and smiling.

He then knelt down, still holding the ring, but this time with a different purpose.

“Jessica Ramírez, you have taught me how to be a father, how to be a man, how to be human again.

“You brought light where there was only darkness, sleep where there was only insomnia, and love where there was only duty.

He paused as he looked at the twins who were watching in fascination.

The three of us want you in our lives forever.

Will you do us the honor of marrying me, of officially being the mother of our children, of forming this family that began the night you stumbled upon my broken hearts and mended them? Jessica, radiant through her tears, nodded before she could find her voice.

Yes, he finally answered.Vâng, cuối cùng anh cũng trả lời.

Yes, to everything.

The twins joined in the hug as Robson slipped the ring onto Jessica’s finger.

The staff applauded, Elena quietly wept, and the musicians began to play a traditional celebratory tune.

A year later, the private beach in Puerto Escondido shimmered in the midday sun.

Robson, dressed in a white guavera and light trousers, waited under an arch of tropical flowers.

Beside him, Vítor and Vinicius, now 6, stood surprisingly still in their matching little outfits, each holding a small cushion with a wedding ring on it.

Traditional Oaxacan music announced the arrival of the bride.

Jessica strutted the sand, barefoot and radiant in a lace gown that combined contemporary elegance with traditional Oaxacan details.

In her arms she carried a small bundle wrapped in a hand-embroidered blanket.

Lucia, barely three months old, slept peacefully against her mother’s chest.

The ceremony was brief, but deeply emotional.

When it was time for the vows, Jessica gently transferred the baby into Elena’s arms and took Robson’s hands.

“A year and a half ago I entered your house as just another employee,” her clear, confident voice began.

I was escaping from an imposed future by seeking my own path.

I never imagined that this path would lead me to you, to the children, to this family that is now my home.

Robson clenched his hands, visibly moved.

And I never imagined that the solution to my children sleeping peacefully would be to find love again, she replied.

You taught me that second chances exist, that happiness isn’t a luxury, but a right, and that sometimes what we need most comes from where we least expect it.

When they exchanged rings, with the
somewhat clumsy but enthusiastic help of the twins, Robson pulled Jessica towards him for the kiss that would seal their union.

As they separated, they both looked at the three children who now formed their family: the twins, who had finally found the emotional security they so desperately needed, and little Lucia, the living symbol of their love.

That night, after the guests had left and the children were fast asleep, Robson and Jessica gazed out at the ocean from the villa’s terrace.

“You know what the most ironic thing is?” Robson commented, hugging her from behind.

I hired a nanny so my kids could sleep and ended up falling in love so much that I now have a newborn who wakes me up every 3 hours.

Jessica laughed softly, leaning against his chest.

Life has an interesting sense of humor, he replied.

I escaped an arranged marriage in my town to end up marrying for love on a beach in Oaxaca.

They turned around when they heard Lucia’s soft cry through the baby monitor.

They exchanged a knowing look.

I’ll go, Robson said, kissing her forehead.

You rest.

As she watched him walk away, Jessica reflected on the extraordinary turn her life had taken.

From nanny to wife, from employee to mother of three children, from a scared young woman fleeing from other people’s expectations to a woman who had found her place in the world.

And it all started with twins who couldn’t sleep and a widowed millionaire who had forgotten how to live.

Some would call it fate.

Jessica preferred to call it a miracle.