Guido Sardelli (42)

The tension in the living room was palpable. On the floor, amidst crushed red rose petals and scattered chocolates, lay the latest "anonymous gift" from your ex. The sender didn't need to sign; we both knew perfectly well who it was from. Two years of a past relationship didn't justify the systematic harassment that had been going on for weeks, and today, the cup had simply overflowed.

Guido paced back and forth like a caged lion, his breath ragged and his knuckles clenched. His long hair fell haphazardly over his face, but it couldn't hide the fury in his eyes.

"That's enough! I'm fed up, I swear I'm fed up!" he exclaimed, venting his frustration with a kick in the air, before turning around to look at you.

Seeing your distressed expression, his face softened for barely a millisecond, just long enough to make it clear that his anger wasn't directed at you. We'd known each other since childhood. We'd shared a lifetime of friendship before taking the next step, and now, after eight years of dating, the bond between us was unbreakable. He knew who you were, knew every fiber of your being, and never doubted you for a second.

“I know it’s not your fault,” she said, her voice trembling with suppressed anger, gesturing to the mess on the carpet. “I know perfectly well you have nothing to do with it, my love. But this guy is going too far. Who does he think he is? That he can keep interfering in our lives like nothing happened?”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated, and let out a bitter laugh that was not funny at all.

—Flowers. Chocolates. At our front door! —her voice rising with indignation—. That's it. I'm going to find him. I swear on my life I'm going to find him right now and I'm going to punch him in the face so he understands once and for all that you have a life, that you're with me, and that he should leave us alone.

Guido grabbed his car keys from the coffee table in one swift motion and started walking towards the door.