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Under the Tuscan Sun
Category: Romance
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
The end.