I don't know very well if minutes or hours have passed; I see them approach the table once more. Alejandro's gaze is lost. I notice he is overwhelmed and also sad?

"Sienna, I'm sorry," he says, "I hope you don't mind if Lucas takes you home, I'm not feeling well." He apologizes and leaves a two-hundred-dollar bill on the table.

"Don't worry. I'll see you tomorrow at the office," I say, but he doesn't answer; he nods and walks away.

I watch him enter the restaurant and leave. When I see him far,