And her hands… were intertwined with the physical therapist’s, trembling, as if holding something fragile… and intense.
“Sofia…” Esteban murmured, his legs shaking. His voice was Barely a whisper. Her body, limp.
They both turned around. Sofía’s eyes widened, her face pale. The man quickly withdrew his hands and stood up like a child caught stealing candy.
Esteban didn’t scream. He didn’t swear. He didn’t hit anyone. He just stood there, his eyes filled with a thousand emotions.
“How long… how long have you been able to walk?”
Sofía lowered her gaze. After a few seconds of silence, she answered in a whisper:
“Almost eight months.”
“Eight… months?” Esteban repeated, in shock.
Tears sprang from Sofia’s eyes. For the first time in years, they weren’t from physical pain.
—“I was afraid… afraid that you would find out. Afraid of your gaze, your expectations… and of myself. I don’t know who I am anymore. These five years… I lived like a ghost. And when my body began to heal… I didn’t know what to do. You gave me everything… but I could no longer love you the same way.”
