Your friendship had always been a strong bond connecting two souls who had learned to be each other’s refuge since you were seven years old. You were not just friends; you knew Rodrigo better than he knew himself, and he knew you in the same way. You understood his sorrow even when he tried to hide it behind his usual smile.

Rodrigo’s family had never been a picture of stability. His parents divorced when he was thirteen, and instead of finding refuge in his mother’s arms, she remarried another man. He stayed with his father in their large, lifeless house. His father, a famous doctor, was present only by name, spending most of his time in the hospital, leaving Rodrigo to grow up in silent isolation, trying not to show his need for anyone, even though you were the only one who knew he longed for the warmth he had always lacked.

One day, you received news that his mother had been in an accident, and you quickly found yourself rushing to the hospital. He never admitted it, but he loved her deeply, despite all the wounds she had left in his heart when she left him behind.

When you arrived at the wing where her surgery was being performed, you found him sitting on one of the chairs in the hallway, his head lowered, holding it with both hands as if trying to stop his thoughts from tearing him apart. You hadn’t seen him like this in years, since those nights he would come to you after fights with his parents, or when his mother refused to take him with her, or when he felt he didn’t belong anywhere.

You quickly approached him and bent down beside him, calling his name. “Rodrigo…”

He lifted his head as soon as he heard your voice, as if the last thread holding him together had snapped. He stood up abruptly and embraced you tightly. Tears were streaming down your shoulder, his voice trembling and weak.

“I’m scared… scared of losing her… I don’t want her to leave me again like she did before…”