Chapter 8
Chapter 8: The Head of the Table
Following Gabriel’s ferocious declaration, the air in the dining room felt vacuumed out. A few elderly guests subtly turned their faces away, secretly wiping tears of empathy. Several other businessmen looked at Isabel and Patricia with undisguised contempt.
Gabriel paid no mind to their reactions. He took long, determined strides toward the door where his mother stood trembling.
He stood before her, gently pulled a silk handkerchief from his breast pocket, and carefully wiped the tears from his mother's weathered face. Then, he took her calloused hand, placed his other hand on her waist, and gently but proudly led her through the center of the dining room.
Every eye was fixed on them. The poor mother in her frayed floral dress and the billionaire son in his expensive suit. It was the most beautiful, powerful image of the entire night.
Gabriel led his mother to the head of the table, where the gold-inlaid presiding chair, reserved exclusively for him, sat. He grasped the back of the chair and pulled it out.
"Mom, this place belongs to you. Please, sit."
Doña Rosario shook her head frantically, her face flushed red with embarrassment and fear. She had never been used to attention, let alone daring to dream of sitting in such an elevated position.
"No, Gabriel... son. This is your place. I can't... I don't deserve..."
Gabriel smiled, the most radiant and genuine smile he had worn since his business career began. He gently pressed down on her shoulders, forcing her to sit in the velvet chair.
"You are wrong. If anyone in this room, in this house, deserves to sit in the highest seat, the seat of the master, it can only be you. Without you, there is no banquet. Without you, I would just be a vagrant on the streets."
As Doña Rosario settled into the presiding chair, a miracle happened.
The old Mayor, a man known for his strict and uncompromising nature, was the first to set his wine glass down on the table. He slowly stood up, adjusted his tie, and bowed his head toward Doña Rosario in absolute, profound respect.
May you like
Immediately following him, the bank director stood up. Then the shareholders, the business partners, the neighbors. One by one, person by person. Finally, dozens of aristocratic guests, people possessing immense power and wealth, all stood up in unison in the dining room, directing their gazes of deep admiration and respect toward the 72-year-old woman in the old floral dress.
They were not standing up for Gabriel. They were standing up for the greatness of a mother.
