The words settled between us.
Lucía reached across the table.
"You kept trying to save the man you remembered. But the man hurting you was the one standing in front of you."
I pressed my lips together.
"I still love parts of him."
"I know."
"Does that make me weak?"
"No. It makes leaving complicated."
I stared into my tea until the surface stopped trembling.
Then I said something I had never admitted aloud.
"I'm scared he'll convince me to go back."
Lucía didn't immediately answer.
She reached for a notebook and placed it between us.
"Then write down what happened tonight. Every detail. Not for the police. For yourself."
I looked at the blank page.
She handed me a pen.
"So if you ever start remembering only the good days, you can remember why you left."
I began writing.
The restaurant.
The bill.
The wine.
The threat.
