Love.
A love that asked for nothing.
—Why would you sweep here? —asked him.
—Because someone from the registry told me that you worked at this hospital —he responded—. I didn’t know how to get close. I was afraid you wouldn’t want to see me.
My chest hurt.
—Three months?
—Yeah.
—Every day?
—All.
The rain began to ease.
I felt the weight of thirty years on my shoulders.
My mother spoke again.
—Andrea, let’s go home. This is over.
I looked at her.
For the first time… I didn’t see the woman who had raised me.
