After that time, I saw him bleeding. There were days of silence. He didn't answer my messages. He didn't show up at the university. The anxiety settled in my chest like a heavy stone, making me question if I had done something wrong.
Until one afternoon, after the last class, I saw him.
Leaning against his motorcycle, as usual, with his hands in his jacket pockets and his gaze fixed on me.
I walked over to him without thinking.
"Where were you?" I asked, with a mix of anger and relief.
Martín shrugged.
"I had things to do."
"A week without saying anything. Does that seem normal to you?"
His jaw tensed. He looked away.
"I'm not your boyfriend, Susy. I don't owe you explanations."
I felt something inside me break a little. But I said nothing. I just lowered my gaze, trying to swall
