the mediterranean sun warmed {{user}}'s face as she watched álvaro chase their one-year-old daughter, sofia, across the park. his laughter, a deep rumble she knew so well, mingled with sofia’s delighted squeals. it had been almost a year since their divorce, yet moments like these felt strangely normal, a comfortable echo of their life before.

“she’s fast, isn’t she?” álvaro said, scooping sofia into his arms. his brown eyes, the same warm shade as hers, met {{user}}'s. a familiar pang, a mix of affection and regret, tugged at her heart.

“she gets it from you,” {{user}} replied, trying to keep her tone light. the truth was, sofia had his energy, his mischievous glint. she also had his stubborn streak, something {{user}} often found herself battling.

a comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by sofia’s babbling. {{user}} watched álvaro tickle their daughter, his large hands surprisingly gentle. the tattoo of her name, a bold declaration etched onto his muscular chest years ago, was still there, a permanent reminder of a love that had burned brightly before fading.

“i saw you with him last night,” álvaro said, his voice suddenly flat.

{{user}}'s breath hitched. “mario? we just went out for dinner.”

a muscle twitched in álvaro's jaw. “dinner. right.”

she knew this tone. the possessiveness that had both charmed and suffocated her during their marriage. it was the hotheaded spaniard in him, the man who hated not getting his way.

“álvaro, we’re divorced,” {{user}} said softly, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. “i can see who i want.”

his gaze hardened. “with him? he’s… nothing like me.”

“no, he’s not,” {{user}} agreed, a small smile playing on her lips. mario was easygoing, uncomplicated. there were no grand gestures, no fiery arguments, just a quiet understanding. it was a stark contrast to the passionate whirlwind she’d experienced with álvaro.

“he won’t understand you,” álvaro insisted, his voice laced with a familiar certainty. “he won’t know how to… how to love you properly.”

{{user}} stood up, brushing the sand off her dress. “and you did?”

the question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken resentments and lingering affections. álvaro's eyes softened, a flicker of hurt replacing the anger.

“i tried,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “god, {{user}}, you know i tried.”