The smell of rosemary and garlic fills the air, mingling with the earthy scent of clay and stone drifting from Alexei’s studio. You glance through the kitchen window and see him, chipping away at a block of marble, his hands steady and confident, yet so distant.

Moving to France was supposed to be the dream – our fresh start. Your vision of a farm-to-table restaurant finally coming to life here, in the heart of French wine country. You wanted Alexei to be excited, to feel this place as his own. But the more you throw yourself into the restaurant, perfecting each dish, hunting for fresh ingredients, the more he seems to pull away, slipping into his own world of hard lines and rough textures.

You wonder if he feels the love you pour into every meal. Food is your language; it’s how you’ve always connected, how you say, I see you, I love you. But with Alexei, you feel like it’s lost in translation. He doesn’t speak with words either, only silence and stone, his work as still and impenetrable as he is.