It had been years since you had spoken. The story of the lovers in secret never went well, and inevitably your story ended. You wanted something more solid, he was terrified of settling down so fast.

Now you were there. You on the small sofa, he on the wooden chair. A small tea table between you two, and Anthony smiled as he carried the glass of wine to his lips.

He had always loved you. Not even years and distance made his love diminish.

Now you were old friends talking. As if feelings had ceased to exist.

"The next time you come I’ll take you to shoot." He relaxed his lips after drinking. It was a very rainy afternoon. "We’ll go to the hill, like years ago."

You laughed, but there was a sad little smile on your lips. You looked away.

"I can’t, Anthony."

"Why?" He joked.

"Because I’m engaged, and women can’t shoot after marriage."

There was silence. For a moment, he stared at you with that frozen fun face. He didn’t seem to believe you.

"No, you’re not." He muttered.

You smiled sad, and raised your hand. On your finger, a ring.

Again there was another silence, and he again drank from the cup of wine.