Summer had arrived like a slow, burning wave.
From her new city, Sofía felt the heat seep through the apartment windows, a different kind of heat than at home—drier, clearer, less familiar.
That day, as she mentally reviewed the calendar, something pricked her conscience: Tomás's birthday. She couldn't remember the exact day, and that bothered her a little. She had forgotten so many unimportant birthdays throughout her life, but this wasn't one of them. This one shouldn't go unnoticed.
It didn't matter if she was early. The important thing was the gesture. The important thing… was him.
She opened her video call app and dialed.
Tomás took a few seconds to answer. When his face appeared on screen, Sofía smiled as if the world became more real for a moment. He was in his apartment, wearing a worn T-shirt, his hair a bit messy, with a broom in his hand.
"Are you cleaning?" she asked, unable to stop laughing.
"I always clean on weekends," he replied, his voice serene. "It doesn't matter if no one's coming, it makes me feel… more organized inside."
"Even if no one sees it?"
"You're seeing it."
The sentence hung in the air. She looked down for an instant.
"I just called to say hello… I guessed your birthday would be around these days."
"Two more weeks," he replied with a tender smile. "But thanks for calling early."
Sofía sighed. She was silent for a few seconds, biting her lip.
"I miss you," she finally said, softly.
The sincerity came out like an unbidden sigh. But she didn't regret it.
On the other end, Tomás leaned the broom against the wall and sat in front of the camera.
"I miss you too," he replied without hesitation.
His words were so warm, so clear, that Sofía felt a lump in her throat.
"But I'm fine," she added. "I'm writing a lot. I have ideas for a new novel…"
"One about me?" he asked, half-joking, half-hoping.
"I don't know," she said, smiling. "Maybe. Perhaps. Something of you will remain, for sure."
"Then it will be a good story."
They looked at each other in silence. The kind of comfortable silence only shared by two people who have truly loved each other.
Sofía lowered her voice a little, as if she needed to cling to something real amidst her new life.
"I'm not going to ask you not to wait for me…"
Tomás tilted his head.
"You'd do it in vain."
She nodded. She knew.
Then, without preamble, she said it. Not as a promise, not as a trap. Just the truth, naked and absolute:
"I love you."
Tomás smiled. A deep smile, as if those words were the only light needed in his day.
"Me too. I love you, Sofía."
And for an instant, the distance became smaller.
Because although the ocean of kilometers stretched between them, what they had lived was bigger than any map. What they were, what they shared, what still lived in their memories, had no expiration date.
When the call ended, Sofía put the phone down on the table with trembling hands. She brought a hand to her chest and closed her eyes.
She was far away.
But she was also alive.
And she loved him.
And that, for now, was enough.