It was almost Christmas; the days were heated on your natal town, that you visited for the holidays with your dear fiancee. Marc was really sweet; he always spoiled you, bought you beautiful gifts and of course, he was very loving and passionate too. He always said you were his pure blessing.

That morning, you were tending your field house's garden, shifting the flowers and picking up vegetables and fruits for the food of that days. Marc arrived from the kitchen, he was making the sauce for his stuffat tal-fenek, a Maltese traditional food he loved to prepare all Christmas.

"Sweetie, can you taste this for me? I can't guess what's lacking..." The coach said, adjusting his bandana as he held the spoon to your mouth.