Valentina

It’s been a week since I landed in Santorini and the tranquil beauty of the island still gets me every time. I lay on the soft bed in my suite room wondering what Chiara is up to, I have not set eyes on her today. She is probably with that guy from the other suite, the one whose name sounds like that of a Royal Prince of England. The streaks of sunlight coming in from the window is reflected on my face, I quietly pray for some force to take it away from my face without me having to stand up and pull the blinds.

My phone rings, shattering the peace with its insistent buzzing. The ringing of my phone settles my inner debate, I have to get up from bed after all. I stand up and stride across the room to the armchair where my phone lay with a prayer in my heart for the caller to be Marco. I had dialed his number in a moment of longing the other day and he’s never called me back.

With a sigh, I reach for it, my heart sinking as I see Alberto's name flashing on the screen. It's never a good