The Blue and the Brown by planet p

Disclaimer I don't own Mi Destino Eres Tú or any of its characters.

Sofia had tried to convince him that he was still in love with her, that he could not live without her and would see that, when he tried to make a life with Andrea, he had made the wrong choice, but then it would be too late to undo that mistake and, then, when that attempt had failed, she had turned to another game: she had tried to convince him how much she loved and needed him, and how wrong she had been to break up with him and turn away from his love.

For coming into his house, just days away from his wedding to Andrea, and trying to steal him away from his fiancée, he was more than upset, he was angry, but what he was more angry at was how she could not stop telling him she loved him when the only person she really was thinking of the whole while was herself; his happiness lay with Andrea and, if she could not see that, if she would not see that, it was not because she loved him, but because she was deluding herself into a false belief. If she had truly loved him, she would have seen how much he cared for Andrea, how much he loved her, and try to keep their friendship intact, at least; she would see that he could still care for her, but in a different way, as a good friend, as a true and loyal friend and someone with whom he would trust his life.

But now, as it was, he was beginning more and more to see Sofia's true form, and it was not one that he, had they stayed together – had she not broken up their relationship – would have been able to stay with and continue to love.

He told Sofia, once and for all, to be clear and leave no uncertainties behind, that he would not abide such behavior from her, that he would not play into her games, and that there was no future for them; it had ended the day she had told him that she didn't want him to be a part of her life and, moreover, today had put it to rest in a coffin in the ground.

He did not know, however, that Sofia would soon be the least of his worries, that her jealousy would be nothing compared to his father's distrust in people – people of what he called 'not of the same class' – and the level of his machinations, made all the more spiteful by encouragement by the pretty, young Sofia, so full of jealousy and anger at Andrea and her false love for him. If she could be so horrible, she surely could not understand the true concept of love, and she was not only hurting herself with her twisted, horrid ways, she was hurting everyone they both cared about; she was twisting his father up in her game and there was nothing he, nor his mother could do to stop the pair of them.

He knew that his mother loved his father dearly, but it looked as though the man she had loved and married had long ago departed or, perhaps even more tragic, had never existed at all, except in the eyes of his adoring, loving family who had not been able to see the truth though it lay behind a thin, thin façade, indeed; who, out of love, had been blind. Perhaps they had also been unwilling to believe that they could abide to live in such deception, that they could be deceived so without knowing, and so they had unconsciously cast the hurtful, nasty deception aside and taken, instead, the lie, or else they believe their whole life to have been a fruitless attempt ending in nothing but heartache and pain for all involved. How could one accept such a truth? It surely had to be capable of becoming the death of a person!

Ramiro feared, more than his father's disturbing, manic threats to kill himself, that his father's antics would not only be the death of his father, but also his mother. To know that she had loved and continued to love, only to have loved blindly and, in her ignorance, to have encouraged and supported someone who was nothing more than a snake in the grass and had used her love and turned the very idea of love against her, would surely scar her down deep into her soul, would surely kill her.

When his father had first began his campaign against Andrea in earnest, when he had first tried to buy her off in exchange for leaving him alone, he had been afraid that Andrea might, in her desperation, do something to harm herself, something that would mean she could never again interfere in his family, or break them apart. But he had believed in her, in her strength and soundness of mind, and in her love for him and for life. She would not do something so foolish, so pointless.

Now, he feared for his mother. He feared that she might die of heartbreak or that, even worse, she might take her own life. For the moment, he knew that she was happy to see him happy, also, to see Andrea and he so happy, but had she realized yet how far his father had come, how far he had strayed, from the man she had first fallen in love with, and could she still love the man that he had become, to she still continue to support him and overlook some of his actions because she loved him and had pledged herself to support him in all his endeavors and in the greatest endeavor of all, their love.

With all of his heart, he hoped so. He hoped his mother would see that her love had not come to naught, if and when the realization hit home with that final thud, with one of his father's acts that finally went too far. And soon, he had faith, Andrea and he would have a beautiful baby for her to love, also; a beautiful child that would not only be proof of the love between Andrea and he, but also the love between his mother and father, Maria and Samuel, that had once brought him into the world and cherished and cared for him, loved him, and helped him to grow into the decent, hardworking young man that he was.

Those words, from Andrea's perfect, warm heart, where the perfect beginning for an child, and the perfect hearth for their love, he thought – "There's no better career or specialty than being the mother of your children." – may it continue to grow and prosper throughout the years as well as their child, may it strengthen them when they – alone – might waver, and may it provide them with all the happiness in the world, and may they find their balance and solace, their reason for being in its gentle light, in the love that they receive from one another and the love that they give back.

He hoped, he truly hoped, that one day the love that he shared with Andrea would be enough to bring many new lives into the world, as well as to repair the ones that already inhabited it; that Maria and Samuel would once again find a reason to love one another and the people that they were – and truly could be – deep down inside, and that his father could find enjoyment in the goodness that he still had to offer his loved ones and all who came to know him.

If there was any more that a man could want, he did not know of it. It was often said that all the money in the world could not buy love or happiness, and Ramiro could not agree more strongly; money could buy a safe and secure upbringing, but it could not buy a person's self worth or the confidence or love that they felt for themselves in able to extent that same confidence and love to another wholly and healthily.

Over the course of their relationship, Maria had become like a mother to Andrea, also, and he knew, in his heart, that Andrea wished for her happiness as well. With the blessing that they had been offered by the universe, the blessing of their love, he sent out a single, silent plea that his father find it within himself to make reparations with his mother and realize what it truly meant when he said that Maria and the son that she had given him were his only reasons, his only loves, in this world. He wordlessly prayed that his father was not beyond hope, and that his parents would once again find love in each other's hearts for one another, and that it would be his father, as well as his mother, giving that love that they could both receive the true meaning of it in their souls.

The sparkle in Andrea's eyes, and the warmth of her hands in his, told him all he needed to hear: There is hope in this world, Ramiro, and it is for everyone, rich or poor, good or not; there is always hope, if you will still look for it.