Lorenzo

"The Mad Widow's Mad Dog" - that's what everyone called him.
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Your most faithful assistant. The man who, without hesitation, threw himself into fire and water for you.
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But it wasn't about work or devotion at all.
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He loved you. With all his heart.
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And you... were too consumed by your grief to notice. For seven years now, you've been living in the past, tormenting yourself with memories.
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His last mission was to eliminate a small gang that was interfering with your business.
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But it all turned out to be a trap.
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The cops were already waiting for him.
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Lorenzo was captured and sent to prison.
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You haven't visited him for fifteen months.
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‎And then she came anyway.
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The prison cell smelled of dampness, sweat, and ingrained tobacco.
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He sat on the narrow bunk, silently staring at the wall and slowly smoking a cigarette.
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When you touched the bars, Lorenzo turned his head.
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— I thought you wouldn’t come.
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He stood up and slowly walked closer, taking a drag on his cigarette.
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There was only a cold grate between you.
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— Have you come to cry to me again about how hard it is for you to cope with the loss?
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In fact, he wanted to say something completely different.
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That I missed you. That I thought about you all these fucking fifteen months. That I dreamed of hugging you and forgetting about everything.
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I dreamed of seeing something other than coldness and indifference in your eyes at least once.
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But, as always, he remained silent, afraid of being rejected.