An elderly man of 89 felt insulted when he requested a basic sandwich at a café. Stunned, a prosperous woman spotted something on his wrist and went still. As she approached and recognized what it was, her expression turned vacant, and she was utterly…

Giuseppe’s son was the same Emanuele who had been her great love, the man whose death she mourned to this day. Her heart raced, and a mix of sadness, surprise, and longing flooded her chest. Giuseppe, not fully understanding her reaction, continued, «‘Emanuele… he… he passed away many years ago.

After he left, life was never the same.’ Isabella felt tears begin to form in her eyes, but she fought to maintain her composure. The shock of the discovery was overwhelming. Emanuele had disappeared from her life so abruptly, and she never had the chance to say goodbye properly.

Now, here was his father, a man shattered by the circumstances of life, holding the only object that connected her to her past. «‘He was… he was my…’ Isabella tried to find the words. But the emotions were choking her.

Giuseppe, noticing her state, began to grasp the magnitude of what was happening. «‘You knew my son?’ Giuseppe asked, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and pain. Isabella nodded, unable to speak immediately.

She looked at Giuseppe with a blend of affection and sadness. «‘I loved him,’ she confessed, her voice barely a whisper. «‘I loved him more than anything in this world.’ The silence that followed between them was heavy with unspoken emotions.

Giuseppe appeared shocked, unable to process what he had just heard. Isabella, on the other hand, held the watch tightly, as if fearing that this small piece of memory might be ripped away from her again. «‘Why didn’t I ever know about you?’ Giuseppe finally asked, his voice a blend of curiosity and sorrow.

Isabella took a deep breath, preparing to revisit the wounds of her past. «‘It’s a long story,’ she began, looking into the eyes of the man who suddenly seemed much more than just a needy stranger. «‘But now—I think we need to talk.’ Isabella held Emanuele’s watch carefully, as if it were made of fragile glass, capable of shattering at any moment.

Every detail of the object transported her to a time she thought she had left behind. The worn shine, the discreet engraving underneath, and the way Emanuele used to twist it on his wrist while they talked— everything came rushing back like an avalanche, overwhelming her emotions and bringing her back to those days she would never forget. Giuseppe watched her, his eyes watery from a confusion that was beginning to dissolve into understanding.

He recognized that look, the look of someone who had deeply loved his son, someone who felt the same pain he had carried since Emanuele’s loss. The connection between them was undeniable. «‘He never mentioned you,’ Giuseppe said, his voice hoarse and low.

He seemed reluctant, as if unsure whether he was ready to hear what Isabella had to say, but at the same time he felt he needed to know. Isabella sighed, still holding the watch between her fingers. «‘I don’t know where to begin,’ she said with a melancholic tone, her heart heavy with memories.

«‘I met Emanuele when we were young. I worked in a boutique, my first opportunity in the city. He used to come by with donations for the orphanage where I had grown up, and that’s how we got close.’ Giuseppe’s eyes widened.

«‘Orphanage?’ She nodded slowly, her eyes glazed over with memories. «‘Yes. I was raised there since I was a child.

I wasn’t fortunate enough to know my parents, but the orphanage became my home, and it was there that I met Emanuele. He was always kind, devoted, so full of life. We had many plans together, plans for the future, until fate changed everything.’ Giuseppe fell silent, absorbing every word.

Isabella’s pain reflected his own, but now, hearing her story, he realized there was a part of Emanuele’s life he had never known, a side of his son he lost before he could fully understand. His heart tightened with longing, but also with gratitude for finding someone who shared that love. «‘I never knew about that part of his life,’ Giuseppe murmured, lowering his head.

«‘After Emanuele died, Victoria, my wife, always blamed someone. She would say he distanced himself because of a woman, but she never told me the details. All I knew was that after his death nothing was the same.’ Isabella shuddered at the mention of Victoria, Emanuele’s mother.

She didn’t need any explanations to know who Giuseppe was talking about. She vaguely remembered distant and tense encounters with that stern woman, whose expectations were unattainable, and whose approval was never granted. «‘Victoria never accepted me,’ Isabella said, her voice trembling.

She never thought I was good enough for her son, and that created a chasm between Emanuele and his family. He was torn between us, trying to be the perfect son while wanting to live his own life. It was a very difficult time.’ Giuseppe looked up, visibly moved.

He hadn’t realized how heavy the burden his son carried had been. He never fully understood the conflict that had pulled Emanuele away from the family. Victoria had convinced him that the blame lay with the girl he loved, but now, sitting across from Isabella, he saw that the suffering had been much deeper and more complex than he had imagined.

He never stopped visiting me, but—’ It was rare,’ Giuseppe said with a long, tired sigh. And then, when the accident happened, Isabella felt a knot tighten in her throat. The moment she had dreaded hearing was approaching, the point where everything fell apart.

Giuseppe continued, his voice growing weaker. That day. It was so fast…