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53

“No, Rylee . What I want is for you not to run away with my son!”

- I do not need it, thank you. I am fine. Just leave me alone.

Clearly disappointed, she swept her gaze across the table, as if suspiciously checking to see if I was really involved with the work, or just avoiding her.

- Clear. Sorry to bother.

With that said, she left the office, head down, while I continued to sit behind the desk, overcome by that myriad of love and hate that burned in my veins, threatening to drive me crazy.

I never left the office that night. After a few shots of whiskey, I ended up falling asleep right there, in an armchair, which made me wake up the next morning with a bad backache. Upon realizing that I was awakened by the insistent ringing of the cell phone, I answered the call, still sleepy. It was from the hospital, a nurse calling to say that Arnaldo had woken up, a miracle, according to her. In my opinion it was just the confirmation of that saying that a bad vase does not break.

I analyzed
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