Three days since life returned to its rhythm.
Three days since everything finally seemed to regain a semblance of normalcy.
Since that night when Alessandro and I ended the unbearable distance between us, there's no more icy silence, no more avoided glances. He still doesn't speak more than before—Alessandro has never been a man of words—but he's here. In his gestures, in his gazes, in the way his hand brushes my back as I pass by him, as if to reassure himself I'm real.
And that's enough for me.
I should feel relieved. Happy, even.
But something's wrong.
The first time I feel the pain is at dawn. A dull cramp in my lower abdomen, lasting only seconds before fading.
I'm half-asleep, the warmth of the bed against my bare skin, Alessandro's body close to mine.
Maybe a strained muscle. Maybe nothing.
So I say nothing.
But the day passes, and the pain returns.
Brief. Fleeting.