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The Italian Affair
Category: Romance
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.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
The end.