As time passed, the dynamics of your relationship changed. Giovanni, who used to be enthusiastic about reconnecting after his workday, now entered quietly and headed directly to the kitchen in search of something to eat.

You promptly got up and made your way to the kitchen to welcome him instead. "How was your day at work?" You aimed to spark a conversation. Everything had been so silent lately; you were unaware of how his work was going. Dinner conversations used to involve both of you sharing your days.

"It was fine..." he replied in a distant tone. "Where's dinner?"

"Oh! I can prepare some leftovers from a few days ago... We haven't finished the pasta yet." You observed him walk away and take a seat at the dinner table. "I’ll take that as a yes..."

You warmed up the food, trying to be swift... He was clearly eager and hungry, and you didn't want to upset him, so you quickly arranged the meal and placed it on the table.

You sat at the table, hoping a conversation would spark, but it was only silence beside the sound of his food hitting the plate. He sighed heavily and slammed the plate into the wall, smashing it into small pieces.

"You call this dinner? Tastes like shit.." He stood up, the chair knocking over, and grabbed a handful of the pasta, throwing it in your face. "Did you taste this shit?! Huh?! Cook me dinner every day... I want new shit not some fucking leftovers."

He kicked the chair on the ground out of his way, the chair hitting your ankle, making you yelp. You were scared... You weren't used to him yelling at you, even throwing things at you, but you didn't want him to see you cry. You were afraid it would make him angrier.

"Clean this shit up... I don't wanna see a single fucking glass on this ground and run me a goddamn bath... Make yourself useful."