In the heart of a modern city, two rival families hold the power. Valentina, a fiercely loyal daughter, and Matteo, a cunning and determined son, find themselves on opposite sides of a dangerous feud. But when their paths unexpectedly intertwine, th...
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After Matteo leaves, I'm left alone, feeling the weight of his words. I sink onto the couch, staring at the spot where he was just standing. His promise to "fix" things before the ball and make our relationship look believable echoes in my mind.
It's clear now that the kiss and our awkwardness are just part of the act. The realization hits me hard, and my chest tightens with the sting of his words.
I close my eyes, trying to push away the hurt. The thought that everything between us is just for show makes me feel empty.
I get up, unable to sit still. I start tidying up the living room, picking up random items and putting them away with a bit more force than necessary. I slam the magazines onto the coffee table and fluff the cushions with frustration.
My phone buzzes, interrupting my thoughts. It's a message from Sabrina, checking in to see how things went with Matteo.
I grab my phone with a sigh, typing a quick response: "Its fine. Just need some time to myself." I hit send and toss the phone onto the couch, feeling a pang of guilt for not being more open with her.
I pace the room, my mind racing. I glance at the clock and realize I've got a few hours before I need to start dinner. I head to the kitchen, grabbing a jar of cookies and tearing it open.
I munch on a couple, hoping the sugar will somehow lift my mood, but it only makes me feel more disheartened.
The clatter of my phone buzzing again pulls me from my thoughts. It's another text from Matteo, asking if I'm free to talk more.
I stare at the message, feeling a mix of annoyance and sadness. I don't want to face him again tonight, but I can't ignore his attempts to fix the "act."
As I'm about to put my phone down, the doorbell rings. I freeze, wondering if it's Matteo coming back.
I open the door to find a delivery person with a package. I sign for it, feeling a bit of relief that it's not another emotional confrontation.
With the package in hand, I close the door and head to the living room, where I sit down and open it. It's a small, thoughtful gift—something I had ordered for myself to cheer up.
I unwrap it slowly, finding a soft blanket inside. I drape it over my shoulders, trying to find some comfort in the simple gesture.
The evening stretches on, and I still can't shake the feeling of emptiness. I pick up the phone again and scroll through social media, trying to distract myself from the reality of the situation.
I see posts about upcoming events and people having fun, which only makes me feel more isolated.
As night falls, I finally decide to get ready for bed. I brush my teeth and change into comfortable pajamas, hoping that sleep will bring some relief. I lie down, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing with thoughts of Matteo, the ball, and the complexity of everything that's happening.
