When he proposed, I didn’t hesitate.
But there was one person whose approval I never truly received: his mother, Doña Teresa.
She was known in the neighborhood for her sharp tongue and strict personality. People respected her, but many quietly feared her temper.
The first day Carlos took me to meet her, she examined me from head to toe. Her gaze lingered on my modest dress and simple shoes.
Then she said something that still echoes in my mind:
“A girl from a poor village… will she really be able to support this family?”
I forced myself to smile, pretending the words hadn’t hurt me.
I believed that if I worked hard, showed respect, and proved my love for Carlos, she would eventually accept me.
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