The flight back to Verenza was a hollow, echoing contrast to the journey that had brought them there.
The private cabin, which had once been a space of whispered promises and stolen touches, was now filled with a heavy, suffocating silence.
Julian didn't leave her side for a single second. He sat on the edge of the plush leather seat, his arm a constant, grounding weight around Amara's shoulders. He didn't try to fill the silence with platitudes or "it will be okay."
Instead, he just held her hand, his thumb tracing the gold of her wedding band, the ring Madam Pedro had watched him place on her finger just days ago with tears of joy in her eyes.
As the plane dipped through the clouds above Verenza, the golden sunset that usually signaled beauty now felt like a taunt. The city lights began to flicker on, but for Amara, the world had gone dark.
