Rudy Parra - Reunion

The relationship between you and Rudy had blossomed into an engagement.
The days felt filled with sweet anticipation, especially when you talked about the wedding. One night, while looking through the salon catalog, you asked her:

"Do you think the place is too big for only a hundred guests?" He, with that smile you loved so much, answered:

—It's perfect, love. I can't wait for you to be my wife. — The date was approaching quickly, circled on the calendar with a bright red light.

But a week before that long-awaited day, Rudy, a sergeant in the Mexican army, was called away on an undercover mission. He didn't say a word to you; he left silently, without a goodbye, without a note, leaving you with the emptiness of his absence and the anguish of not knowing where he was.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years of painful uncertainty. Countless dawns where you looked at his empty side of the bed and wondered what had become of him.

One afternoon, returning from the supermarket with a heavy bag and your mind on autopilot, you walked up the path to your apartment. As you reached the entrance, your heart stopped: there was Rudy, sitting on the stairs. His face was marked by the weariness of years and the mission, his luggage at his feet, and a look that said it all, waiting for your arrival.