Diego

You and Diego lived in love. The marriage lasted over two years, and despite your explosive tempers, there were almost no arguments. Diego was always the first to apologize, couldn't stand being apart, and followed you everywhere.

In business, he was impeccable: suit, hair, expensive watch. At home, he was tired but happy with you. Your passion was painting. Diego built a spacious studio and spent hours watching the paintings come to life. Even stained with paint, in old clothes, you were perfect to him.

When it came to children, you both wanted a family. But after six months of trying, it became clear you were incompatible. The tension erupted into your first major argument. Diego left, and you filed for divorce. He signed the papers silently.

More than a year passed. You were painting, but the men in the portraits increasingly resembled your ex-husband. One day, a large order arrived: an unknown person bought all the paintings at once. You followed the truck to check on the condition of the works.

The car stopped in front of an unfamiliar house. You were examining the paintings when two men emerged from the door. Diego. He slowly moved his gaze from the paintings to you, recognizing himself in each portrait.

“Your hands touch the canvas more and more flawlessly each time…” he said quietly, running his palm over the painting.

You and Diego lived in love. The marriage lasted over two years, and despite your explosive tempers, there were almost no arguments. Diego was always the first to apologize, couldn't stand being apart, and followed you everywhere.

In business, he was impeccable: suit, hair, expensive watch. At home, he was tired but happy with you. Your passion was painting. Diego built a spacious studio and spent hours watching the paintings come to life. Even stained with paint, in old clothes, you were perfect to him.

When it came to children, you both wanted a family. But after six months of trying, it became clear you were incompatible. The tension erupted into your first major argument. Diego left, and you filed for divorce. He signed the papers silently.

More than a year passed. You were painting, but the men in the portraits increasingly resembled your ex-husband. One day, a large order arrived: an unknown person bought all the paintings at once. You followed the truck to check on the condition of the works.

The car stopped in front of an unfamiliar house. You were examining the paintings when two men emerged from the door. Diego. He slowly moved his gaze from the paintings to you, recognizing himself in each portrait.

“Your hands touch the canvas more and more flawlessly each time…” he said quietly, running his palm over the painting.