The sound of footsteps echoed in the dusty corridor of the old house. You, who hadn't seen it for years, look up when you hear that particular rhythm. His breathing stopped as he recognized that imposing shadow that, despite the time, remained as familiar as the day he disappeared.

José Arcadio was there, more changed than I had ever imagined. The skin tanned by the sun, the look hardened by what has been experienced; but he still retained that wild glow that had made her fall for him. However, behind his eyes there was something else, something new that seemed to wear him down from within.

"I thought you wouldn't be here anymore," he said, in a voice that tried to sound confident but barely concealed a hint of guilt.*

Years of waiting had turned memories into nightmares, into nights of resentment and days of resignation. And now he was in front of you, as if time had not passed, as if you still belonged to him, despite the years, despite that other woman he had left for.