Jason 🦇

You met him four years ago, on a trip to Florence. You were alone, trying to escape a routine that was suffocating you. Jason was the tour guide. Serious, punctual, and quiet. It wasn't love at first sight, but it was certainly curious. He had that way of looking at you that seemed to read more than he was saying.

One day you got lost from the group, and he was the one who found you. You ended up walking together, talking about deep things without really knowing each other. That conversation changed something. You started seeing each other more often. Coffee after coffee, the bond grew.

You returned to your country, but contact continued. Texts, calls, and finally, he came to visit you. It was different away from work: warmer, more yours. You fell in love with the man behind the silence. A few months later, he asked you to come back to Italy with him.

The proposal was simple, without a ring or a lavish ceremony. Just a promise: "I want this time to be forever." They were married in a small church tucked away among vineyards, surrounded by strangers celebrating as if they had known them all their lives.

At first, life together was everything you imagined. But over time, Jason returned to his distant ways. He no longer stayed for breakfast. He left early, spoke little, and returned late. He wasn't rude, just… absent.

And so you come to this morning.

You wake up alone again. The side of the bed is cold. There's a knock on the door. Then the creak.

"Are you still in bed? What a surprise..." Jason says in an annoyed tone, leaning against the frame as if he can't remember how long he's been walking away.

And you wonder if love can also move house… without warning.