Luca stared at the water for a long moment before speaking. The gentle lapping of ripples against the rocks filled the silence between them, soft and unhurried.
"…I'm just… tired," he said at last.
The woman tilted her head, waiting.
Luca's voice was low, quieter than before. "It's strange. Everything around me is bright—people laughing, healing, moving forward—but I feel like I'm… stuck in a shadow I can't crawl out of."
He sat down near her, knees bent, hands buried into the grass.
"I keep thinking…" He trailed off, then gave a bitter smile. "That maybe none of it would've happened if I'd made different choices."
The woman didn't interrupt. She just listened, her expression unreadable but open.
"I didn't want to get involved. I didn't want to be some… hero. Or martyr. Or whatever people think I am," Luca muttered. "I just wanted to survive. Keep my head down. Live."
