Chapter 18

The message from Lorenzo arrived in Margaret's inbox with an unexpected invitation:

"I need to talk to you. It will be in person. I'll pick you up tomorrow at 6 pm."

Amelia read the message over and over, searching for hidden meanings in the words. She hesitated for hours before replying with a single word:

"Alright."

The next day, Lorenzo arrived promptly. Amelia, disguised as Margaret-with her chestnut wig, impeccable makeup, and dark glasses-got into the car. Lorenzo, polite but distant, drove in silence. He didn't reveal their destination, and she didn't ask.

After a few minutes, Amelia began to recognize the route. Her heart skipped a beat as the car stopped in front of the small park where, years ago, Lorenzo and she had met for the first time. A mix of nostalgia and fear washed over her.

Lorenzo got out of the car and, walking around to her side, opened the door.

-Come, I want to show you something.

Amelia cautiously stepped out, her eyes scanning the place. It hadn't changed much. The benches, worn down by time, the tall trees providing shade, and the small central fountain all remained the same. Lorenzo led her to one of the benches.

-This place is special to me -he began, his voice calm but laden with emotion-. This is where I met someone who changed my life.

Amelia felt a lump in her throat but remained silent.

-It was years ago -Lorenzo continued-. She was sitting right here, sketching something in a notebook. I don't know why, but I walked up to her. We looked at each other, and from that moment, I knew I had found something unique.

Amelia averted her gaze, struggling to maintain her facade.

-Why are you telling me this? -she finally asked, her voice softer than she expected.

Lorenzo turned to her, his gaze piercing.

-I want to create a jewelry collection inspired by this place -he said, ignoring her question-. By the colors, the light, the memories. But more than that, I want it to tell a story: the story of a man who found the love of his life here... and lost her.

Amelia felt tears threatening to fall, but she held firm.

-It sounds like a beautiful idea -she replied in a faint voice.

Lorenzo nodded, his eyes fixed on the fountain ahead.

-She was everything to me -he continued, as if talking to himself-. But one day, she just left. She didn't give any explanations, only a void that I've carried ever since.

Amelia closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply to keep her composure.

-And why do you think she left? -she dared to ask.

Lorenzo looked at her intently, his eyes filled with restrained pain.

-I don't know. Maybe she was scared, or maybe she thought she wasn't enough. But if I could speak to her, I'd tell her that she never stopped being enough.

The silence that followed was deafening. Amelia wanted to say something-anything-but the words wouldn't come. Lorenzo stood and held out his hand.

-Come, I want you to see something.

He led her to a tree near the fountain. There, carved into the bark and slightly worn by time, were the initials A & L.

-I always come back here -Lorenzo said, tracing the letters with his fingers-. No matter how many years pass, this place will always be where it all began.

Amelia felt her Margaret disguise crumble little by little. Lorenzo's words were a painful reminder of what they had been, of what she had lost, and of what she could never fully reclaim.

-It's beautiful -she finally murmured, unable to say more.

Lorenzo watched her for a moment, as if waiting for her to say something else. Finally, he sighed and looked down.

-Thank you for coming. I needed to share this with you.

Amelia nodded, her hands trembling slightly. When they returned to the car, the ride was just as silent as before. But this time, the silence was heavy with unsaid words, suppressed emotions, and a past they both knew they could never fully bury.

The silence in the car had become almost unbearable. Lorenzo, with a mix of nostalgia and confusion on his face, finally broke it.

-Margaret have you ever loved someone?

Amelia, staring distractedly out the window, felt the air in the car grow heavier. Her fingers nervously played with the edge of her purse, but she forced her voice to remain steady.

-Why do you ask? -she responded without looking at him.

Lorenzo shrugged, though his expression showed the question wasn't casual.

-Simple curiosity -he said, trying to sound nonchalant-. It's hard to imagine someone like you, with your talent and... presence, not having loved or suffered for love.

Amelia let out a brief laugh, though it was tinged with bitterness.

-Yes, I've loved -she finally replied, her gaze fixed on the horizon-. And I've suffered too.

Lorenzo turned his head to look at her, surprised by her frankness.

-What happened? -he asked cautiously, afraid to push too hard.

Amelia hesitated. She felt her words were like walking a thin line between her identity as Margaret and the past she shared with Lorenzo. Finally, she decided to answer, letting the weight of her emotions speak for her.

-I loved someone more than I thought I was capable of. But that person didn't believe in me. Didn't believe in what we were, and in the end, it all fell apart.

Lorenzo frowned, his chest tightening at her words.

-They didn't believe in you? -he repeated, as if trying to understand what it meant-. Why not?

Amelia shrugged, feigning indifference she didn't feel.

-I suppose sometimes love isn't enough. When someone doubts you, your worth, or your decisions, everything else starts to crumble.

Lorenzo gripped the steering wheel tightly, as if battling an internal storm. Amelia's words echoed in his mind, bringing back memories of his own relationship with her-of the times he had questioned her decisions and made her feel like she wasn't enough.

-Do you still think about that person? -he asked, his voice lower, almost as if he feared the answer.

Amelia looked at him for the first time since the conversation started. Her eyes, hidden behind the glasses, were a mystery, but her tone was laden with a melancholy she couldn't hide.

-Sometimes -she admitted, turning back to look out the window-. But there's no use clinging to the past. That person made their decisions, and I had to make mine.

The car returned to silence, but this time, the weight of the unspoken was overwhelming. Lorenzo wanted to ask more, wanted to know who had been important enough to mark her that way. But something in his instinct told him not to push.

As he drove back, Amelia's words kept repeating in his mind. He couldn't help but think that, in some way, she was speaking directly to him. And that, more than anything else, filled him with a strange mix of regret and hope.