"Is that so?" Ruben checked his watch, his expression apologetic. "I can't keep you company, though. Even if it's Sunday, there's always a steady stream of customers coming through."
Thankful that he even had the intention, I kept staring at the ceiling, the silence of the back room a stark contrast to the muffled bass thumping through the walls. My mind was elsewhere, caught on a loop I couldn't break.
"Ruben," I called out, my voice sounding raspy even to my own ears.
"Yeah?"
"If I said that I remember him more lately because of a woman—would you believe it?"
"Uh—what kind of woman?" He crossed his arms sceptically, leaning against a row of lockers.
"One that looks too much like him."
"Oh. If she looks like him, sure, I believe you. It would make sense. But—what about it?"
