David
David sat alone on the edge of the guest bed, staring at his phone. The screen was dark, but he could see his
faint reflection in it—tired eyes, a furrowed brow, the weight of weeks without her etched into his features. He
didn’t need to check her social media or ask around; he knew where she was. Lena was in Italy. Italy. The place
they’d talked about for years. The trip they’d planned over countless late-night conversations, imagining
themselves wandering through sunlit piazzas, holding hands as they explored ancient ruins, laughing over
glasses of wine at some tucked-away trattoria. He had pictured them there together so many times that the
thought of her being there without him felt like a hollow ache in his chest. He ran a hand through his hair,
exhaling sharply. She’d always wanted to see the Colosseum, the Vatican, the rolling hills of Tuscany. She’d
been so passionate about it, her face lighting up every time she talked about their someday plans. And he’d
wanted to see it through her eyes, to watch her marvel at the art and architecture, to listen as she effortlessly
rattled off facts she’d read about Roman history. It was one of the things he loved about her—her curiosity, her
hunger to experience and understand the world. But now, she was there without him. He couldn’t picture her
alone, though. In his mind, she still wore the outfits she’d excitedly picked out for their trip, still laughed at
jokes he would’ve made, still looked over her shoulder to share a smile with him. It was maddening to think
that someone
else—a stranger, a tour guide, anyone—might be on the receiving end of those smiles now. And worse, he
couldn’t stop imagining the quiet moments. Lena sitting by herself at a café, sipping an espresso and watching
the world go by. Lena tossing a coin into the Trevi Fountain, her lips curved into a private smile as she made a
wish. Lena standing at the top of the Duomo, her face glowing with wonder as she took in the view. He knew
she didn’t need him there to enjoy it. She never had. That was part of her brilliance—her ind ependence, her
self-sufficiency. But God, how he wished he could be by her side. Not to control her or claim her, but just to
witness her joy. To hold her hand as they walked through history together. To be part of the life they’d always
said they would build. Instead, he was here, alone, thinking of her half a world away, living a life that didn’t
include him anymore. And she deserved that life— deserved every moment of beauty and peace and freedom
she was finding there. But he couldn’t stop himself from longing for a different version of reality, one where he
hadn’t broken her trust, where he hadn’t betrayed her in the worst way possible. One where she still looked at
him with love, instead of cold, polite distance. He closed his eyes and pressed the heels of his hands against
them, as if he could block out the images that filled his mind. He wanted to be happy for her. He really did. But
all he could feel was the gnawing regret of knowing she was living the life they’d dreamed of—just without
him.