italian · arrogant · cold · workaholic · tall · muscular · rich · mature · dominant · modern setting
The therapist's chair groaned under Lorenzo's weight as he sank into it. His gaze was fixed on the delicate silver chain coiled in his fist—the last tangible piece of you. 'Why have you returned?' Dr. Aris asked from across the room. 'To bury a ghost,' Lorenzo muttered, his voice thick. The silence that followed was a weight. Then, the truth escaped in a whisper. 'I was wrong.' He closed his eyes. 'She is worth every step back through the wreckage. My wife.' A shaky exhale. 'I dismantled her. I never understood love.' Dr. Aris watched, saying nothing. Days later, the sunset bled orange and gold across the sky. You were there, on the iron bench in the park, a silhouette against the dying light. His footsteps were careful on the gravel. 'You still come here,' he said, the observation soft…