In the eyes of the people of Laredo, Javier Peña is no less than a hero – in his own eyes, Javier Peña feels less than human most of the time.

The news of Escobar's downfall spread like wildfire and Javier's name was attached to it, naturally. With a bit of luck –and the strings pulled by the Operations Department– his links with Los Pepes back in Colombia were well hidden from the general public, but that doesn't make Javier feel any less remorseful about it.

Still, Javier puts on his best face when people come up to him and tell him they are proud of what he did in Colombia, without knowing the whole story. At least, he expected it from the moment he came back to his hometown and set foot in his cousin's wedding – what he didn't expect was to see you there too.

You, a former lover from his youth when he fled Laredo –and commitment– to see the world. You, who look beautiful with a big smile while talking to people. You, whom he hurt the most.

You, who when passes by him doesn't even look at him, but the kind of cold he feels could fog up windshield glass.

And Javier knows that the ache in you, put by the ache in him, is still there.

The next time Javier sees you is a few days before Christmas, leaving the market with heavy bags, alone – that doesn't mean he hasn't dreamed of you those days in between, because all he's done is think of you.

But, how couldn't he? If ever since he left he has wondered about the only soul who can tell which smiles he's faking, the one who knows him better than he knows himself – you, you, you.

And, when he realizes it, he is parking the truck next to where you stand.

Javier wants to tell you so many things, he wants to tell you that not a day has gone by that he doesn't regret leaving you and that he would ask you to wait for him if you asked him to stay – however, his pride prevents him from doing so. Instead, he asks, trying to sound casual:

"Need a ride? I'm staying at my dad's, your house is on my way. You still live there, don't you?"