Love Games

One: The Cycle Starts Again

It's Friday night.

You know what they say about people who drink their coffee black-no sugar, no milk, no nonsense?

That they're psychopaths.

At least, that's what Emma Stone told me. Not the actress-my Emma. She's six feet of sharp wit and sharper tongue, with black hair, glasses she constantly pushes up her nose, and an energy that could scare a storm into silence. Her tongue, too big for her mouth and too quick for most people to handle, has gotten her into more fights than she'll admit.

I envy her sometimes.

Emma owns a bar on the Sicilian coast, tucked between sun-bleached beaches and the kind of turquoise sea you only see in postcards. The rent is criminal, but Emma works harder than anyone I know. She knows the stakes-if she loses that spot, she loses everything her bar stands for. It's not just a job for Emma; it's her life, her pride. And the reputation she's built-loud, wild, unforgettable-matches her perfectly.

Me? I'm the quiet one, the blonde you'll find in the corner, tucked behind a book. Thoughtful, calm, and maybe a little too lost in my own head. Emma calls me her "mysterious philosopher," though I think that's just her way of saying I don't talk enough.

My name is Sarah Becker. I'm a librarian in the charming coastal town of Sicily. In the world of books, I'm fearless-funny, outspoken, and adventurous.

In the real world? I can't read between the lines, I miss the punchlines of jokes, and I overanalyze everything until I'm completely lost. And now, to top it all off, I'm newly single.

Today has been the worst day of my life. I came home to the house where my ex-fiancé and I used to live, only to find a box and a suitcase of my belongings waiting for me at the door.

I bang on the door, heart pounding.

"Dave, what is this? What have you done?" I yell, my voice trembling with anger.

I bang again, harder this time.

"I don't love you anymore," comes his muffled reply before he finally opens the door.

Dave Jameson. My ex-fiancé, the man I thought I'd spend forever with. A liar. A coward.

"Excuse me?" I demand, my voice rising. "What's wrong with you? You don't love me anymore? When did you figure that out?"

He shrugs, his face annoyingly calm. "I think I'm just tired of a serious relationship. I need space. I want to be alone for a while."

Alone? Alone? We're engaged! My throat tightens, and tears well up, but I refuse to let them fall. "You're throwing everything away-our love, our plans-just like that? And where am I supposed to go? It's Friday night, Dave!"

He sighs, as though I'm inconveniencing him. "Go to Emma's bar. Maybe someone will take pity on you."

And then he laughs. That cruel, smug laugh that makes my stomach churn.

I want to slap him. Every nerve in my body screams for it. But I don't. I won't.

Because I'm a lady.

For now.

˝What has Emma done to you to make you so rude to her? Emma is not to blame here, but she was definitely more supportive than you, all you care about is cars, money and your friends. Where was I going to get involved with you, what was I thinking? ˝ I answer questioningly.

Really, what was I thinking, I unconsciously fell in love with Dave when he went to the library, he switched books more and more often and won me over. And I felt like the happiest girl when we kissed for the first time, I believed in the fairy tale and I got a sour ending.