Rodolfo Rudy Parra

Rudy's mom came over the weekend and had been criticizing everything you did. The way you cleaned, dressed, cooked, even talked. She glanced at Rudy every time you took a breath.

Now, in the privacy of your room, you confront him.

"It's not like that, babe," he reassured you, squeezing your hands, "but you know..." Rudy fell silent, looking away.

"He had his reasons." Her voice was delicate, trying to soften the impact of her comment.