Tres meses [Three Months]

I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes at the premise initially—another ‘commitment-phobe forced into proximity’ plot? But *Tres meses* subverts the trope with such biting specificity that it feels fresh. Marcús doesn’t just tell us Jack is jaded; she shows us through his scathing mental reviews of real films (the way he eviscerates *Before Sunrise* in chapter 4 is a standout), and his habit of quoting noir dialogue during arguments. The chemistry with Lía isn’t instant—it’s *earned*, built on clashes that feel painfully real, like their disastrous first attempt at cooking together (Torrelles’ exasperated ‘*¿Cómo has quemado el agua?*’ had me laughing out loud). The narration is flawless *except* for one odd choice: Torrelles occasionally softens Jack’s edges too soon, especially in the middle act, where the character’s emotional shift should feel more grudging. That said, his ability to convey subtext—like the way Jack’s voice tightens when Lía calls him out on his bullshit—is extraordinary. The production quality is impeccable, with ambient sounds of Barcelona’s streets subtly woven in during transition scenes, though I wished for more of it. My only real critique? The ending wraps up a touch neatly for a story that otherwise thrives on ambiguity. But if you’ve ever scoffed at love stories while secretly wondering if you’re the problem, this audiobook will gut you in the best way.