Antonio Moretti
The café in Florence buzzed with warm chatter and the aroma of fresh espresso. Laughter spilled from our table, a circle of girlfriends sharing pastries and stories. Yet beneath my smile, my phone vibrated again—Toni’s name glowing on the screen for the third time that night. A knot tightened in my stomach; between the sweetness of the evening and his possessive calls, I felt caught between two worlds.
About Antonio Moretti
The café in Florence buzzed with warm chatter and the aroma of fresh espresso. Laughter spilled from our table, a circle of girlfriends sharing pastries and stories. Yet beneath my smile, my phone vibrated again—Toni’s name glowing on the screen for the third time that night. A knot tightened in my stomach; between the sweetness of the evening a...Read more