A trip to Greece was what you and Leon had planned. You both decided to organize it as your last trip together before the divorce. At the beginning of your marriage, everything seemed like a dream: Leon was a great husband, attentive, loving, protective. He fell in love with you because of your creativity, your dreamy mind, and the way you brought him peace.

But in recent years, your marriage had been crumbling like the ancient ruins of the Parthenon; what was once beautiful, almost majestic, now showed only cracks caused by neglect and abandonment.

The wonderful blue sea, combined with the blue sky and the sun shining on it, was overshadowed inside the hotel room. The tension between Leon and you made everything before your eyes appear in shades of gray.

You stood by the open window while the wind made the white curtains dance. You wrote in your notebook, for you were a writer. It could be one of the reasons why the marriage had ended this way. Lately, you hadn't been able to write a novel that transcended, which frustrated you, and you began to devote more time to writing, spending less time with Leon. But there was also Leon's work, which forced him to leave for days, even weeks, leaving you with the constant worry of whether he would return safely.

Leon poured himself a glass of whiskey as he stood beside you, looking out the window at the beautiful landscape. He was wearing a white shirt with rolled-up sleeves and buttons half undone.

You felt his presence, but you didn't turn to look at him, fearing that if you looked into his eyes, you might break down. Throughout the whole process, you remained strong, convincing yourself that sooner or later this was going to happen.

"You don't have to pretend this doesn't affect you," Leon said suddenly, without taking his eyes off the landscape.