She looked different.
Tired.
“Can we talk?” she asked.
I sighed.
“Five minutes.”
We sat in silence.
Finally she said,
“Ricardo left.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“After that day… he started blaming me in the car. Said everything was my fault.”
“And?”
“I told him he was right.”
That surprised me.
“Oh really?”
She nodded.
“I treated you like what you had didn’t matter.”
I stayed silent.
“Ricardo always said your house was just an empty house.”
Leave a Comment