One year later…Ever since I heard the news about Marco’s accident, it's like my heart froze. How do I explain to anyone that what I feel for James is stronger than the term 'like' but not enough to be called 'love'? Does this even make sense? Since Marco’s disappearance, we became so close as he was there for me all through.James thinks I’m seeing a therapist for my general well-being. He also has no idea that I started seeing Marco after our divorce or that I did all of the mean things I did. In this one year, I’ve experienced a love like no other. I’m trying so hard to reciprocate even if it’s one-third of the type of love James shows me. I’m hiding so much from him and I don’t know where to start. Secrecy can be such a heavy burden to bear.“Miss Valentina, your progress in recovery is crucial. We’ve been at this for a year now, and it seems like we’re not making much headway,” my therapist says, drawing back my attention to him.“I’m doing my best, Preacher.”“And your best is c

Preparing to leave Menton for Tuscany, a sense of nervousness envelops me. Becca's words of encouragement offer some solace, but they do little to ease the restlessness stirring within me. With each item I pack, realisation hits me like a ton of bricks-I’m really going back. After shaving off my scruff and tidying up, a sense of renewal gradually washes over me. Looking into the mirror, I see a clearer version of myself.The drive to Tuscany is quiet, the road stretching out like an ocean. The winding roads trigger a sudden flashback to the accident that changed everything, causing me to pull over and collect myself before continuing towards Giovanni’s home.Arriving at Val d’Orcia region, where Giovanni’s spare house is located, I take a moment to settle in after the six-hour ride, glad I didn’t come across any border checks. It would have been the quickest way to announce my arrival.With my belongings unpacked and my mind restless, I'm drawn to the window. The view of the rolling h

"Valentina, you seem different today, perhaps bubbly," Mr. Preacher announces with a keen eye."Weirdly, I am," I respond with a hint of surprise in my tone."That's good to hear. Care to tell me about it?""Sure. I can't really explain what happened overnight, but I woke up feeling good. A feeling I haven't had in a long time. And to top it off, my friend, with whom I had a fallout, called to ask if we could meet up and talk things through. And then yesterday, a call comes in from my assistant, Adanna, saying Mr. Brooks wants to see me…""The Mr. Brooks?" Mr. Preacher inquires, raising an eyebrow in curiosity."Yes, the Mr. Brooks. Brace yourself for this.""I'm all ears.""She sends him in, and after an exchange of greetings, he commends me.""No way.""I was also shocked. He smiles.""Did I hear you say smile?""Unfortunately, yes, and he goes, 'Valentina, I must commend your dedication and hard work,'" I say, mimicking his sincere tone. "'You've truly been putting in an impressive

“Marco, seeing you safe is an immense relief. I was worried sick about you. No one knew where you were, I searched everywhere, but it was like chasing shadows. You truly scared me. Giovanni will be over the moon when he hears,” I confess, finally exhaling the tension. Observing Marco’s expression, a realization dawns on me.“Giovanni already knows, doesn’t he?”“Yes.”“For how long?”“He found out months ago.”“Were you hurt? Marco, your sudden disappearance was terrifying. Do you realize the anguish I went through?”I breathe a sigh of relief, grateful Giovanni hasn't told him I'm the one behind his life collapsing like a pack of cards."I apologize, but I needed to vanish for a while. Everything unfolded so abruptly, as if the world itself conspired against us. The revelation of my adoption to the public – it was overwhelming, Valentina. How could I navigate this new identity when everyone suddenly had their own perception of who I was? The added burden of my father's drug scandal….

As I approach the living room, I catch the hushed tones of Giovanni and Flora, their murmurs barely audible. They speak in measured tones, discussing whether I am truly ready for the event after all I’ve gone through, and if my delay in getting ready signals a change of heart. Their concern is obvious, yet they reassure themselves that this is the best course of action. Just as I enter, they shuffle, Flora adjusting Giovanni’s tie.“You look good, brother,” Giovanni compliments.“I agree,” Flora says.“Thanks. You don't look bad yourself, Giovanni, and Flora, you look great as always.”“We should get going; we are already behind. Marco, are you ready?”“Yes, I think I am.”“You'll be fine, Marco,” Flora assures.“Here, drink this. It will calm you down,” Giovanni says stretching a mug towards me.“What's that?”“Chamomile drink. It will calm your nerves.”“Thanks,” I say, downing it.I glance at my phone once more, still hoping for a response from Valentina. Despite knowing that she’s