The Lost Son Who Returned — And the Love His Parents Had Forgotten

Fifteen years ago, a terrible bus accident on the highway between Granada and Málaga forever changed the fate of a boy named Alejandro Ruiz.

At the time, only six years old, Alejandro was presumed dead after the crash. But in reality, an elderly fisherman found him drifting near the coast of Almería and rescued him. With no documents, no memories, and no one to claim him, the boy grew up believing he was an orphan.

The only clue to his past was a rusty bracelet with a single name: Alejandro.

Despite his hard life, the boy showed admirable strength. He worked in the ports, studied every book he could get his hands on, and eventually earned a scholarship that took him abroad. Years later, already an adult, he became a brilliant entrepreneur — founder of an innovative technology company in Madrid.

But despite all his success, Alejandro carried within him an emptiness impossible to fill: the absence of his parents.

Determined to find them, he used his resources to hire private investigators. After months of searching, the revelation came: his biological parents, Don Fernando and Doña Isabel Ruiz, lived in Seville, running a prosperous furniture store chain. They had rebuilt their lives and now had two younger children: Lucía and Javier.

Alejandro also discovered that, for years, his parents had searched desperately for him. But as time passed, as new children were born and the family’s fortune grew, the search slowly faded… almost disappearing completely.

He did not feel anger.
Only pain… and hope.

Before revealing himself, he decided to test if there was still love for him — not for the successful man he had become, but for the little boy they once loved.

One afternoon, in front of the elegant gate of the Ruiz residence, a young man arrived in a wheelchair. He wore simple clothes, his face marked by the sun, yet his eyes… ah, his eyes still carried a sweetness impossible to hide.

He rang the doorbell.

When Doña Isabel opened the door, he took a deep breath.

“— I’m sorry to bother you,” he said in a trembling voice. “My name is Alejandro. I was abandoned as a child, and I heard that a couple who lost a son years ago lives here. I just wanted to know… if you still remember him.”

The woman turned pale. She called her husband.

Don Fernando came down the stairs, irritated at being interrupted.

“— What do you want?” he asked coldly, scrutinizing the boy in the wheelchair.

“— I just… just wanted to ask,” Alejandro repeated, “if a lost son would still have a place in the hearts of the parents who once searched for him.”

The silence was heavy as lead.

Doña Isabel blinked, a mix of shock and discomfort on her face.
Don Fernando, impatient, made a harsh gesture with his hand.

“— Listen, boy,” he said harshly. “Since the accident, dozens of opportunists have tried to pretend they’re our son. We’re not falling for that again. Go away.”

“— Please… I only wanted…”

“— I made myself clear!” the man shouted. “We have nothing for you. Go beg somewhere else.”

Doña Isabel closed the door. Without hesitation. Without compassion.

Alejandro remained still — and not because of the wheelchair.

What paralyzed him was the truth finally revealed:
there was no place for him in the lives of the parents he had longed for.

Quietly, he wiped away a tear and rolled himself down the silent street of Seville.

Even then… he did not feel hatred.

It was as if, at that moment, he had finally been set free.

The next day, the Ruiz family received a letter delivered by a lawyer. Inside it was an old photograph: a little boy smiling, wearing a rusty bracelet with the name Alejandro — the same bracelet now resting in the office of one of the youngest and most influential businessmen in Spain.

The letter read only:

“Yesterday, I knocked on your door and was rejected.

But don’t worry: I want nothing from you.

I only wanted to know if there was still love left.

I understand the answer.

— Alejandro Ruiz, your son.”

When Don Fernando finished reading, his hands trembled.
Doña Isabel fell to her knees, crying.

They ran to the gate.
But it was already too late.

The son life had returned to them…
was now the son they themselves had lost for the second time.