The morning sun broke through the clouds like an unwanted guest, casting golden light across a bed that no longer felt like home.
Alessia sat at the edge, fully dressed, her eyes empty, her soul drained. Her wedding ring still lay on the nightstand—cold, untouched, like the promises that had shattered overnight.
She hadn't slept. Not even for a second. Her eyes were swollen from silent weeping. Luca had returned late, well past midnight, and laid beside her like a ghost of the man she once loved.
Now, he stirred behind her, his hand reaching out blindly.
"Alessia…" His voice was rough, laced with sleep, regret, and dread. "I was ashamed to face you all day."
She stood before his fingers could graze her skin. "Don't."
Luca opened his eyes, his breath catching at the sight of her standing—so close, yet heartbreakingly distant. "You still meant the divorce you mentioned earlier?"
