We were standing on our balcony with the sun shining through a cloudless sky. I had my sunglasses on but Andrés was squinting; both of us looked at the ocean rather than each other. Not that I was seeing the water. I was seeing how parched things were between us. He didn’t know how to say the words that would make it all right again, and neither did I. ‘Thanks,’ I said, tapping my fingers on the rail. In the car I sat as close to the passenger door as I could. He didn’t say anything. I’d told him I was going to explore opportunities in the Central American market for the software packages we developed at work. It was all last-minute and he couldn’t organise the time off from his job as a market analyst to come with me. ‘Next time,’ he said. ‘You’ll be fine with my sisters.’ ‘Yeah, next time,’ I agreed, feeling guilty for lying to him. Mexico had seemed best. I would be far enough away from Andrés but still in his orbit. Besides, I told myself, I could understand him better if I visited his country without him to filter it for me.
