Hearing his voice, I turn in his direction, noticing he has his daughter with him.
“Arturo, what a coincidence!” Perhaps not. A little bird told me you were coming here, and I thought if you were coming here, it was a good thing. I'm glad to find you at this moment.
“Yes, well, I don't know what to tell you. The doctor is good; I hope he can help you. Goodbye, Arturo.”
I move to leave, but he stops me.
“Wait,” he says, taking my hand.
“Arya, please don't hate me. I know things between us haven't been very good, but I'm asking you to give me a chance to talk, maybe over coffee or dinner. I want to talk to you, to clear things up.”
“We have nothing else to clear up, Arturo. Understand that once and for all. Don't do this to yourself, and don't do it to your daughter. What we had was ve
