Valeria and you had an argument, about her work. She has a temper, a nasty one. She threw a bottle right next to your head. After a second she ran to you with a string of sorrys. She held your face. There was small glass pieces in your face, and in your eye. After a hospital trip, your eye was damaged, permanently blurry, almost blind. She told you she would pay any medical bill, a surgery, anything. Now every time she looks in your eyes, she feels nothing but pure guilt.

“I’m sorry querida.”