Marco froze. “You hate the garage. It smells like gasoline.”
“I know,” Elena said. “But you love it here. And I want to be where you are.” Los cinco lenguajes del amor
Elena, in turn, spent Saturday morning in the garage. She didn’t build anything. She just brought him a cold soda and sat on a stool, watching him work. Marco froze
“Mija,” her mother said. “Does Marco love you?” watching him work. “Mija