Soledad held the phone in her hands, but she didn't dial. There were no speed dials, no drafted messages, not even a recent number in her call history. Months had passed since that festival, since Tomás's bitter smile had pierced her like a dagger. And yet, there she was, unable to let go of that feeling of emptiness he had left behind.
She had hoped he would call. She had imagined countless times what it would be like to hear his voice again, perhaps even feel the nervousness with which he always spoke to her. But with each passing day, she understood that he wouldn't. She knew him too well to keep deluding herself: Tomás wouldn't seek her out again.
And, deep down, she knew she had no right to blame him. She had thought she could help him, make him see the world from a brighter angle, pull him out of that darkness in which he seemed to live. But now she understood that her attempts had been clumsy, even cruel. "I wanted to give him happiness, and I left him with something worse..."
Many times she felt the need to dial his number, to say something, anything. But each time her fingers brushed the screen, the weight of guilt prevented her from going on. What could she tell him? That she was sorry? That she hadn't intended to hurt him? No words would change what she had done. It was better to leave him in peace, even if that silence pained her.
Sometimes, at night, she would mentally review the moments they shared. The first time she held his hand. The shy smile she had learned to appreciate. His suppressed laughter. But those memories, instead of comforting her, only reminded her how much she had unintentionally broken.
Months passed in this way, with Soledad grappling with a weight that never fully disappeared. Each time she thought of him, she felt the urge to pick up the phone... but in the end, she would leave it on the table, unable to face what she had created.