MARCOThe city lights blurred past the windshield as I drove with no real direction. I should’ve gone straight home. I knew that. But something in me didn’t want to walk through that door just yet—not with the weight between us sitting in every corner of that house.So I turned off the main road, took a street I hadn’t driven in a while. Old route. Quiet. Familiar.Ten minutes later, I was pulling into a narrow lot behind a bar I used to come to before things got this heavy. Before marriage… Before it felt like the walls of my own house were pressing in on me.I didn’t come here often, but the bartender always remembered. His name was Luca. Broad shoulders, shaved head, always polishing the same damn glass like he was waiting for a reason to throw it.When I stepped inside, the smell hit me—wood, whiskey, and old smoke that never really left. The place hadn’t changed. Low lights. Wooden floors that creaked when you walked too fast. Booths along the wall, bar stools half-filled.I walk
MARCOI woke up slow.Not the kind of slow that comes with sleep. The kind that creeps in after days of something not feeling right. I stared at the ceiling for a while, chest heavy in a way I couldn’t explain. Not pain. Not sickness. Just weight.I pushed myself up, rolled my shoulders, stretched my arms out till the joints cracked. My body moved like it’d been through something, even if the night before had been quiet. I rubbed the back of my neck, then my face. Blinked against the soft morning light leaking through the curtains.The chair by the wall caught my eye.Her robe wasn’t there.I frowned, squinting at the empty spot. That robe never moved. She always folded it neatly before bed and left it there in the morning, soft and draped like a second skin.The tray beside the nightstand was bare too. No coffee. No steam. No note. No sign of her.Something twisted low in my gut.I kicked off the blanket, stood, and walked over to the window. I pulled the curtain aside slowly, not kn
THIRD PERSON Sofia sat at the edge of her cream-colored couch, one leg crossed over the other, her posture perfect but her thoughts scattered. The soft murmur of Milan traffic floated through the open balcony doors, mingling with the quiet ticking of the wall clock behind her. Her apartment was spotless, clean lines, neutral tones, everything exactly where it should be. Except her mind.Legal files were spread across the glass coffee table, color-coded tabs poking out from thick stacks of documents. A half-empty cup of espresso sat beside them, cold now. Her laptop screen glowed with the open case she’d been reviewing—a custody battle involving two high-profile clients. Messy, political, emotional. The kind of case Sofia usually thrived on.Her phone buzzed beside her. She didn’t flinch.It was her client again, third time in an hour. She reached for the phone and answered, tone calm, clipped.“Mr. Valenti,” she said. “I’ve already filed the motion. The judge won’t overturn custody j
SARAHI didn’t turn around.My fingers moved fast, sliding the photo back into the envelope. I pushed it deep into the pocket of my robe and closed the drawer gently, careful not to make a sound. My breath felt tight in my chest, like I hadn’t taken in enough air since I saw her name—Sofia.When I finally turned around, the office door was cracked open. The hallway outside was still and empty, but something in the air felt off. Like whoever had opened the door hadn’t fully left. I stood there, not breathing, not blinking, just listening.Nothing. No footsteps. No voice. No shadow.But I knew someone had been there. Watching. Listening.I stepped out of the office and pulled the door closed behind me. My feet were bare, the floor cold under them as I made my way back upstairs. I didn’t rush, didn’t run. I just moved like a shadow. Quiet… careful.When I reached the bedroom, Marco’s side of the bed was still untouched. Still made. Still waiting.I slipped back under the covers, heart st
SARAHI backed away from the kitchen before she could see me. My hands were damp. My heart thudded so loud it felt like my chest might split.The hallway was dark and quiet. I kept close to the wall and moved slow, every step measured, like one wrong sound would give me away. When I reached the curve by the stairs, I ducked behind the thick column and crouched low.Then I heard it—The kitchen door creaked open.Her heels tapped once, twice. Then nothing.She stood there. I could feel it. Listening.I held my breath. My hands were shaking. My knees pressed hard into the marble.She stayed there for what felt like a lifetime. Then slowly… she turned back and walked in.The door clicked shut.I didn’t move right away. I counted to ten. Then ten more.Finally, I stood, heart still racing, and crept back up the stairs. My legs were stiff, like they didn’t belong to me.When I slipped into the bedroom, Marco was still asleep, his back turned, chest rising steady. I slid under the covers be
SARAHI woke up with the sound of a drawer closing. The sun was already pushing through the curtains. Marco stood near the mirror, fixing the collar of his shirt. His sleeves were rolled up, and his hair was still damp from a quick shower. I didn’t know what time it was, but it felt too early.He looked over, saw me awake, and gave a half-smile. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”I sat up slowly, rubbing my eyes. “It’s okay.”He walked over, leaned down, and kissed my forehead. “I’ve got to head out early. I need to stop by the docks, and then Tony wants to review some old contracts. Family stuff.”My chest tightened a little. “That sounds… fun.”He chuckled softly. “She’s not that bad, Sira.”I gave a small smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “I know.”Marco touched my cheek. “Don’t let her get to you. She’s just… from another world. That’s all.”“I’m fine, Marco.”He paused, searching my face. “Are you?”I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure. “Go. You’ll be late.”He kissed me once more, grab