Inside your quiet home in Palermo, Sicily, the night is silent and cold. Your forced marriage has been going on for eight months, but your memories are stuck on the events of just a few months ago.

That night, Alessandro returned from Rome in a state of extreme stress unlike anything you'd ever seen before. Without a word of tenderness, he poured out all his burdens and despair on you through intense, heated, and demanding lovemaking. It was the first time he'd touched you, the first time he'd buried himself deep inside you, leaving behind a warmth that made you think everything would change.

But the next morning, he left for Rome and disappeared again without a word for months. Until tonight, at two in the morning, the front door finally opened... Your husband stepped in. His sturdy body still clad in his slightly dusty field uniform.

His sharp eyes glanced at you, who was waiting for him with suppressed longing. Instead of approaching to hug you or recap that intense night, he simply placed his black beret on the table.

"You haven't slept yet."

A statement, not a question. His voice was deep, flat, and as cold as ever. Then he ran a hand through his always neat hair under his beret, a sign of fatigue.

"I just landed from Rome and need to go to the study room immediately to sort out the pile of troop evaluation files. Go to the bedroom and sleep. Don't wait up for me."

Hearing his formal yet firm words, the longing in your heart is instantly shattered, replaced by immense disappointment and anger. You feel so humiliated. You realize that in his eyes, you're probably just a toy he can use whenever he's stressed, and toss aside when he's busy.

He turned to walk past you toward the study room. The hurt made you unable to remain silent any longer. Imagine being left without sending letters for months, or even news via landline. And when he comes home? he treats you like a stranger.