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Under the Tuscan Sun
Category: Romance
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
The end.