Disclaimer: Belongs to Sony Classic Pictures and Pedro Almodóvar.
She had the oxygen mask on her face but she could feel herself slipping away. The doctors were confirming it too. They were loosing her. Too much blood loss.
But she heard him crying. They brought him to her. How much she wanted to hold him, but all she could do was touch his cheek. So soft. They adjusted him so his head faced hers. She gave a weak, but noticeable smile.
His face was so beautiful, even when he was screaming and covered in her blood; her damned diseased blood. She wished with all her might he would be free of the virus that had slowly started killing her.
She didn't even notice the mask being removed from her mouth. She brushed her lips on his damp forehead. And as if the breath of God went in her one last time, she spoke in the sweetest whisper.
"Esteban, te adoro mi hijo."
She pressed her lips on him in the most gentle kiss she had even given.
Within a millisecond he was whisked away. Her vision became dark but she still kept her smile. Even though it was just one brief moment, it was enough to let her die happy. Even as she breathed her last, the smile was still there.
Recuerda mi promesa Manuela.
The doctor felt awful covering up her face because he thought she looked like an angel.
But for everyone who knew her, she was an angel all along.