Italy's hottest couple, Thomas Ceccon and Bianca Ricci, is not going through the best phase of their relationship. With their careers at their peak and one month away from the Paris Olympics, they will have to put their problems aside and focus on w...
After a short drive, Lorenzo parked his car next to a park away from the bustle of downtown Rome, full of tourists from different parts of the world.
Before sitting on a small bench we spotted in a corner, we decided to get some ice cream. It was my friend's idea, knowing my weakness for that treat. He knew exactly how to cheer me up.
After a while in silence, I decided to speak up—"Thank you so much for everything you do for me, really, it wasn't my best day"—Lorenzo looked at me with a genuine smile that made me feel a lot better.
"You know you can count on me for whatever you need; I'll always be there to support you"—he said as I noticed the sun disappearing and small drops of water starting to fall, growing more intense.
Suddenly, we found ourselves soaked, running through the rain, laughing as we searched for a nearby place to take shelter since we had strayed quite far from the car. The first thing we found was the Galleria Spada, one of the city's most well-known museums.
As we walked in, everyone looked at us, which made us burst into laughter. Once we stopped being the center of attention, we decided to take advantage of the situation and look at some of the exhibited works. I got lost in the beauty of all the paintings that caught my eye.
Despite the mishap, the morning kept getting better, partly thanks to my friend, who knows how to make me smile and forget my problems, even if just for a moment.
"They're beautiful, aren't they?"—he asked as he approached me, subtly placing his hand on my back. Suddenly, he leaned into my ear and whispered—"But not more than you."
I was surprised by his comment. All these years, he had always had lovely things to say to me, but never in that sense. It made me feel, for once in a long time, cherished and appreciated.
As a way of thanking him, I decided to give him a tight hug, one of those warm ones that touch your heart. I knew our coach wouldn't be too happy about our absence, but at that moment, I didn't care.
When the heavy rain finally stopped, we left the museum and headed back to the car. Lorenzo eventually decided to invite me to a restaurant owned by a friend of his, where we caught up and enjoyed some exquisite food.
After having an amazing morning, Lorenzo dropped me off in front of my house, and I was ready to relax and unwind by watching a series.
Once inside, I closed the door and headed to the kitchen to drink a glass of water. As the refreshing liquid slid down my throat, I heard a loud noise coming from the bedroom. Frightened, my first thought was of a burglary. I decided to grab a knife and slowly made my way up the stairs.
When I reached the bedroom, I was surprised to see Thomas packing his clothes from the wardrobe. I quickly put the knife down on the hallway cabinet and walked decisively into the room.
"I didn't know you'd be here"—I said casually.
"What's wrong? Now I can't enter my house whenever I want? Don't worry, I'll ask for permission next time"—he said sarcastically. I reacted surprised and incredulous, so he decided to intervene—"Sorry. I had a free moment and decided to come get some clothes."
Seeing him, I couldn't help but feel sad knowing he was leaving, that we would never live together again, but deep down I knew it was for the best.
"I was worried, you know?"—he looked at me stunned—"I haven't heard from you for three days. You stormed out on Friday, and you didn't call or send me a single message to at least say you were okay? Seriously, you're incredible."
"What did you expect? That I'd stay here and we'd sleep cuddled up? You were the one who decided to end this."—he exclaimed with a hint of irony.
"No, but you could have at least let me know if you were okay so I wouldn't have spent three damn days anxious"—I said, upset.
"I don't owe you any explanation, stop worrying about me, we're nothing anymore"—his words made tears threaten to spill from my eyes, but I decided to stay firm. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me affected.
"You're right, we're nothing anymore, but in these almost three years of being together, I've always cared about you, and that's not going to change overnight. The problem is you don't get that, do you?"—he stayed silent, so I continued—"You didn't have anywhere else to go, did you? You had to run straight to that snake's place."—I said furiously.
"I told you to stop trying to control me, I'm a free man, and I choose to do whatever I want. And the 'snake' has a name, show some respect."—he said. I was stunned by his response. Was he really defending Isabella after everything?
"The same respect you've shown these past few months?"—I replied angrily.
He slammed the wardrobe shut, grabbed his suitcase, and stormed out of the room. I followed him to the entrance, fed up with his lack of maturity to face problems and try to solve them.
As he was about to walk out the door, I heard a commotion coming from the street. I decided to look out the window, and what I saw left me in shock.
A swarm of journalists was gathered outside our house, shouting countless questions. In disbelief, I quickly turned on the TV.
What I saw left me stunned and furious. A news report about my supposed relationship with Lorenzo covered the entire screen. The images were from this morning at the museum, right at the moment when we hugged.
I turned around and saw a suspicious Thomas dropping his suitcase on the floor and standing beside me.
"What the hell is this?"—he blurted out suddenly, his tone angry.
That's exactly what I'm wondering.
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