You hadn’t been expecting any big life changes from this vacation. Everything in your life was falling apart—your job, your relationship, your friendships—you needed to get away, and so you did. Two weeks in Italy, all alone, nothing but the sea and sun, sounded good. Just a little breather, some therapy before you head back to the burning dumpster fire that is your life at home.

You’d never expected to meet him. John Price. You’d met him at a cute, quaint little bar near the ocean, where you’d planned to have a few fruity cocktails, get a little tipsy, and head back to your hotel to watch shitty movies for the rest of the night. You’d struck up a conversation with the handsome, rugged looking man drinking whiskey beside you—and as it turned out, you had more in common than you thought.

You spent the rest of your night talking with him about anything and everything. He was a soldier, you learned, a Captain. Special Forces. Doesn’t have much of a life at home, but he’s got some time off until his next mission, that’s why he’s in Italy. He’s got the type of dry humour that you adore, and God, if you didn’t believe in love at first sight before, you do now.

Alas, all good things must come to an end. After a whirlwind two weeks with him, in which you spent every day falling harder and harder, it was time for you to leave. You said your tearful goodbye, with a half hearted promise to keep in contact, and that was that. Or, so you thought.

“{{user}},” You hear his gruff voice from behind you, as you stand outside of your beach cabin, suitcase in hand and ready to go. The sun is setting, almost as if to create a scenic atmosphere for his big confession.