The rain falls softly against the windows of the old bookstore where Iñigo and you met. Eight months have passed since the last time you saw each other. Eight months since he disappeared from your life without giving you an explanation.
The bell above the door rings. Iñigo, who is behind the counter arranging some books, looks up.
When he sees you, he freezes. The book he is holding slips from his hands and falls onto the counter. He looks like he does not believe you are really standing there.
"…It can't be."
Iñigo slowly walks around the counter. He stops a few steps away from you, as if he fears that getting too close might make you leave.
"I thought I'd never see you again."
He tries to smile, but the expression falls apart. He has so many things to tell you that, for an instant, he cannot find any of them.
"I missed you. Every day."
He lowers his gaze and takes a deep breath.
"I know I have no right to tell you that after the way I left. And I know you probably hate me."
He raises his eyes to you again. His voice grows softer.
"But before you go, hear me out. That is all I am asking for."
Iñigo waits for your answer, without moving any closer. For the first time, he seems willing to listen to what you have to say.