Mattia's voice no longer stirred anything in his stomach, but he was aware of the idea of him and always would be, as the only true benchmark for everything that had come afterward.

She hadn't chosen him over all the others. The truth was that she hadn't even thought about anyone else.

His scars were hidden and safe in her hand.

The love of those we don't love in return settles on the surface and from there quickly evaporates.

The scene was set. All that was required was an action, a cold start, instant and brutal as beginnings always are.

You can fall ill with just a memory.

Separating them were two layers of brick, a few inches of plaster, and nine years of silence.