I hadn't had a single night of decent sleep since Alessia left.As night fell, I was still at my desk, buried in paperwork.The room was filled with smoke. The ashtray was overflowing. The air was a mix of nicotine and whiskey.I refused to rest, using work to numb the memories of Alessia I was so desperate to forget.But the pressure and regret were a cancer, eating me alive.On the fifth sleepless night, I started hallucinating.While driving, I'd suddenly turn to the passenger seat and ask gently, "What do you feel like eating today? I'll have the chef make it."The empty seat would glow in the sunset, as if she were right there, bathed in the evening light.Late at night in my office, I'd whisper to the empty air, "Goodnight, my wife. We'll go see a movie tomorrow, your favorite kind."Leo and the family elders were worried about my mental state, but no one dared to say anything.This evening, I sat at the dining table, a full feast laid out before me.I looked at the empty chair a
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