Chapter 135: Mariana

The beeping of the waffle maker jars me out of my thoughts.

The free breakfast at the hotel barely opened half an hour ago, but I was already up. After yesterday's session on communication, sleeping is ridiculously difficult to do.

I can't stop thinking about what Santos said. You will never hate me more than I hate myself. I want to be happy that he's living with such tremendous guilt. This whole thing is his fault. But I can't. I had no idea he was grieving as much as I am. He's not one to show he's in any kind of pain often. Not physical pain. Not emotional pain. He's too busy being everybody's friend to be honest when his feelings are that intense.

And he never, ever cries. Needless to say, seeing him weep the way he did pulled me right out of my pity party and back into the real world, full of questions about what I should do now. Do I stay? Do I go? Do I give him another chance? Do I call it quits?