I felt guilt, sadness, exhaustion, hope. I found myself missing the old Leonardo—the one who met the world with calm indifference, who kept his feelings buried deep beneath a confident front. It was easier to hate that version of him, to turn him into the heartless stranger who rejected me. This new Leonardo, though—he was harder to despise. Despite the cold mask his pale skin and dark hair seemed to wear, his eyes betrayed an emotion that was reserved only for me.
“What would be the point in giving in?” I replied, trying to keep the bitterness from my voice. “Nothing would change. You’d take what little I have left, then leave. Why would I expect any different? Sure, you regret your choice now, but something clearly happened between you and Francesca. If it hadn’t, you’d still be with he
