Marcos has red eyes from crying so much; he is kneeling in front of the small mound of stones. Standing beside him, Rosa looks at him. She looks terrible, truly exhausted. Crying is tiring; grief is draining. They are still at the back of the house, under the shade of the large oak tree. In the distance, there are forests and far-off mountains. The cicadas are relentless, and it’s hot; Juli is buried here. They haven’t said anything for quite a while. They stare at the mound of stones, walk around, look at the sky, the horizon, the house, exchange glances, whimper, then embrace, walk a bit more, and look at the mound of stones again. They are trapped in their thoughts and do not speak. Kneeling in front of Juli’s grave, Marcos feels Rosa’s hand on his shoulder; he places his hand on top of hers, and finally, Rosa breaks the silence.
“I loved him so much, Marcos,” Rosa says with a cracked voice.
Marcos turns his head to look at her, stands up, opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. His eyes well up with tears once more.
“I...” Marcos says in a whisper as he lowers his head, “I... love you,” he finally says.
Rosa’s eyes widen, and, moved, she touches Marcos’s chin with her fingers to see his eyes. Marcos lifts his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. Rosa takes his head affectionately in her hands and brings it close to hers.
“I love you too, Marcos,” she says, kissing his forehead. “I love you too...”
