Skip to content
The Italian Affair
Category: Romance
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
The end.