"Fiona, I know I messed up, big time. Just tell me-what can I do to make it right? Say the word, and I'll do it. How long will it take? A year? Five? Ten? However long you need, I'll wait. Just... give me a number. Tell me when you'll stop hating me."
He leaned onto her shoulder, face hidden, like he didn't dare look at her.
He was scared to see how calm she might be. Scared to see that she'd look at him like he was just someone passing by.
His voice was shaking, barely holding back the panic.
Cold tears slipped from his eyes onto the side of her neck.
That same chill traced down her cheeks.
Her hand, which had been pressed against his chest, slowly fell.
A soft sigh, like something drifting from another time, unreal and weightless:
"Carlos... there's no going bac
