The city seemed to fade into the background as John drove. The streets, once so familiar, became blurs before his eyes fixed on the road. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, as if trying to control not only the car, but also the whirlwind of emotions overwhelming him.Leaving the main avenues behind, he entered a more remote neighborhood, an up-and-coming upper-class area. It was a less exclusive area than the circles he usually frequented, but one that was gradually gaining prestige with its elegant homes, tree-lined streets, and the quiet typical of those who value discretion.It was then that he spotted the house.White, with classic lines and a well-kept garden, it exuded a sobriety that contrasted with the ostentatious luxury of the mansions he frequented. It wasn’t a mansion, but there was a discreet grandeur about it.John parked the car in front of the gate and turned off the engine. He remained inside the vehicle for a few seconds, observing the facade with a racing

JohnWhen he got home, John dropped his briefcase on the sofa in the large living room, not caring about the sharp thud that echoed through the empty room. He loosened his tie, took off his jacket, and took a deep breath before heading to the dining room. The breakfast table remained exactly as he had left it that morning, as if time had stopped there, frozen. He ran his hand through his thick black hair, ruffling it slightly in a gesture of frustration. His eyes scanned every detail of the room, from the vases with fresh flowers to the impeccably aligned chairs. It was as if she were still there, taking care of every detail to please him.He walked into the kitchen, which was silent and perfectly tidy. He opened the fridge, looking for any cold drink to try to ease the knot tightening in his throat. To his surprise, he found several organized containers, all labeled with dates and small notes written in Elizabeth’s delicate handwriting: “Dinner,” “Light soup—in case I’m late”He fel

JohnIn his office, John stared out the window without really seeing the city at his feet. The landscape, which had once conveyed a sense of control and mastery to him, now seemed distant and irrelevant.He opened the drawer and took out the wedding ring and the crumpled letter. He stared at the thick ring for a while, then smoothed out the letter, reading it over and over. This time, he read slowly. Every word seemed to take on a new meaning.John, I know you probably won’t believe me, and I understand, but I still want you to know that when we got married, I wasn’t aware of the terms of the contract. I loved you so much and was so happy to marry you that I didn’t care about anything else. For those three years, I held onto the quiet hope that my love would find a place in your heart. I tried to be a good wife, hoping that one day you would see my love. But now I see that some stories aren’t meant to come true. I allowed myself to dream… I dreamed that one day we could be happy, w