See You — In Montevideo

She had gone. She had bought the ticket, packed her things, told her mother she was leaving. She had stood on that dock for four hours as the afternoon turned to evening and the evening turned to night. The ferry had come and gone three times. And Mateo had never appeared.

He squeezed her hand. She squeezed back.

I know I have no right to write to you. I’ve told myself that a thousand times over the years, and each time I put the pen down, I thought that would be the end of it. But I’m old now, and a man nearing the end has fewer reasons to be proud. Or maybe he just runs out of time to be a coward.

And now this. A letter from a ghost, asking her to try again. The next morning, Elena found herself on the ferry. She hadn’t decided to go, exactly. She had woken at four in the morning, unable to sleep, and by five she was dressed and by six she was walking toward the dock. It was as if her body had made the choice before her mind could catch up. See You in Montevideo

“You stood me up on a dock. You let me wait for four hours. I called your boarding house. I took the ferry. I walked the streets of this city for three days, looking for you. Do you know what that felt like?”

She folded the letter and handed it back to him. He took it with shaking fingers.

“I’m not staying,” she said. “I have a life in Buenos Aires. I have a daughter who calls me every Sunday. I have a garden that needs tending. I have a cat who will starve if I’m not home by tomorrow.” She had gone

The city was warm, the air carrying the salt-brine smell of the river. She walked without purpose, her feet finding their own way, and after a while she realized she was heading toward the water. Toward the rambla.

“And after tomorrow?” he asked.

If you come, I’ll be there. If you don’t, I’ll understand. I’ll stay anyway. It’s the least I can do. The ferry had come and gone three times

“No,” she said, and her voice cracked. “You can’t. You weren’t there. You left. You just—left.”

I’m not asking for forgiveness. I’m not even asking for a reply. But I made a promise to you once, a long time ago, and I broke it. I told you I’d see you in Montevideo, and then I didn’t show up. I’ve carried that with me longer than I’ve carried anything else.