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Gianna’s POV
I sat on the balcony of the small seaside villa I’d rented a few days back just to clear my head. A steaming cup of tea was cradled in my hands while I watched as the sun set, painting the sky in lovely shades of orange and pink. The waves crashed softly against the rocks below. It was really beautiful here. Quiet and far removed from the chaos that had practically consumed my love over the past week.
But the peace I’d hoped for hadn’t come. Not entirely.
Matteo’s name still wouldn’t leave my mind. It stil lingered in my head and every thought like a shadow. Even in this beautiful and peaceful place, my heart still felt raw and my emotions were tangled in a web of longing, hurt and doubt about myself.
I closed my eyes, letting the salty breeze wash over me. You’re here to heal, I reminded myself. Focus on yourself.
The problem was, no matter how much I tried to distance myself, the memories of Matteo kept creeping in. His laughter, his infuriating character, the way he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered.
And yet, it wasn’t enough to drown out the humiliation I’d felt.
I took a sip of tea, its warmth washing over me, and set the cup on the small table beside me. My journal lay open, half-filled with scattered thoughts and questions I didn’t have answers to.
Why did I let myself fall so hard?
That was the biggest question of all. Matteo had swept into my life with all the force of a storm, and before I knew it, I was caught up in him. He was charming, passionate, and unapologetically himself.
But love isn’t just about passion. It’s about feeling safe, feeling like you belong. And with his family-his sister especially-I didn’t feel that. Emilia hadn’t outright said it, but the way she looked at me, the subtle condescension in her tone, had been clear enough.
She didn’t think I was good enough for Matteo.
And maybe she was right.
I leaned back in my chair, staring out at the endless stretch of ocean. It was easy to imagine staying here forever, away from the complications of relationships and family dynamics.
But the thought of leaving Matteo behind was like a physical ache.
I pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to ease the headache building there. You have to make a choice, Gianna, I told myself.
Either I fought for us, knowing that I might never win over his family, or I let him go and saved myself the heartbreak.
The rational part of me-the one that had spent years protecting my independence and guarding my heart-said it was time to walk away.
I sighed, swallowing the lump in my throat and walking back into the villa. I curled up in bed with my phone resting on the nightstand. It had been buzzing all day with Matteo’s texts and missed calls. I hadn’t opened any of them, but I didn’t delete them either.
I reached for the phone, my thumb hovering over his name. I read the last text he had sent.
Matteo: I miss you.
The message hit me harder than I wanted to admit. I stared at the words for what felt like forever, wanting to respond but knowing I couldn’t.
Because if I answered him, it would be like opening the floodgates. I wasn’t ready to hear his voice, to face the raw emotions he always brought out in me.
So I set the phone back down and turned off the light, letting the darkness settle around me. Once again, I cried myself to sleep.
It was barely 8am, and I was taking a walk along the shore, my feet sinking into the cool, wet sand. The rhythmic sound of the waves was calming, and for the first time in days, I felt a sense of clarity.
Matteo loved me-of that, I had no doubt. But love wasn’t always enough.
I’d spent so much time trying to fit into his world, to prove that I belonged there, but Emilia’s disapproval was a very harsh reminder that I didn’t.
Maybe it wasn’t just her. Maybe deep down, I didn’t feel like I belonged either.
I stopped at a small cafe for breakfast, the air filled with the scent of fresh bread and coffee. I sat down with my cup of cappuccino and the conversation from a couple next to me drifted into my ears.
“Love isn’t easy,” the woman said, her voice soft but firm. “It’s messy and complicated, but you have to decide if it’s worth fighting for.”
I sipped my coffee, her words echoing in my mind. Was Matteo worth fighting for?
The answer came almost instantly: yes.
But fighting for him didn’t mean sacrificing myself. If I couldn’t feel secure in our relationship, if I couldn’t trust that we’d weather the storms together, then it wasn’t the kind of love I wanted.
I paid for my cappuccino and went back to the villa. Once I was settled in, I sat down with my journal again, determined to sort through my thoughts.
What do you want? I wrote at the top of the page.
For the next hour, I let the pen flow, spilling out everything that had been swirling in my head.
I wanted to be loved, yes, but I also wanted to feel respected and valued. I wanted a partner who would stand by me, even when things got tough.
And I wanted to feel like I could be myself without fear of judgment.
Matteo made me feel seen in so many ways, but Emilia’s disapproval would always be there. If we were going to make this work, we’d need to have some hard conversations-about boundaries, about his loyalty to me versus his family, about what we both needed from each other.
By the time I finished writing, I felt lighter. For the first time, I felt like there was a way forward.
I wasn’t ready to give up on Matteo, but I also wasn’t ready to jump back into things blindly.
For now, I needed to focus on myself-on finding my own strength and confidence again. If Matteo loved me as much as he said he did, he’d understand.
And if he didn’t…
Well, then maybe Emilia was right after all.