98. Uncovering the Past
Susy
The first week without Martín was hell.
Not because of him, but because of myself. Because of the habit. Because of the addiction he had created in my skin, in my thoughts. The nights were the worst. Every notification on the phone made my heart jump, fearing it was a message from him.
And it was. Many times.
I blocked his number after the third day, but he soon started writing from others. He looked for me on social media, sent messages to my friends.
The first face-to-face encounter was inevitable.
It happened while I was walking through one of the less frequented hallways of the university. He knew where I usually walked after classes. He appeared out of nowhere, as he always did, with that denim jacket I knew by heart, with pronounced dark circles un
