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The Italian Affair
Category: Romance
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The end.