See You In Montevideo -

She unfolded the single sheet of paper. The handwriting was shakier now, the lines slanting downward as if the hand that held the pen had been tired. But the words were unmistakably his.

“Three weeks. I’ve been sitting on this bench every day, watching the water, waiting for you.”

I’m not asking for forgiveness. I’m not even asking for a reply. But I made a promise to you once, a long time ago, and I broke it. I told you I’d see you in Montevideo, and then I didn’t show up. I’ve carried that with me longer than I’ve carried anything else.