When Love Turns to Ash Novel – Chapter 16
Florence was a balm to my soul.
I threw myself into my design work, the ancient beauty of the city a constant inspiration.
My thesis project, “Frammenti di Cuore” – Fragments of a Heart – was a branding concept for artisan collectives.
It was raw, emotional, full of broken lines and resilient imagery.
It won a prestigious European design award.
My professors called me a rising star.
My mentor, a chic Italian woman named Signora Bianchi, clapped me on the shoulder.
“Savannah, you have a fire in you. This award… it is only the beginning. We must celebrate!”
But later, she looked at me with concern. “You work so hard, cara. But you are too alone. You must let life in.”
She was right.
Despite the success, a quiet pain still lingered.
The scar near my collarbone, a pale, raised line, was a constant reminder.
My art was full of broken butterfly wings, kintsugi patterns, beauty found in imperfection.
It was my story, etched in ink and pixels.
Mateo Rossi found me in the studio late one night, surrounded by sketches and empty espresso cups.
He brought me a container of pasta from his favorite trattoria.
He didn’t say much, just sat with me, his presence a quiet comfort.
I remembered when we first met.
I’d been prickly, distant, wary of any kindness.
He’d been persistent, in a gentle, unassuming way.
He’d show up at the student café with an extra pastry, or leave a book on architectural theory he thought I’d like outside my door.
He never pushed, never pried.
He just… saw me.
He understood my art, the unspoken pain woven into its fabric.
He saw the “Frammenti di Cuore” not just as a design, but as a reflection. “It’s about resilience, isn’t it?” he’d said once, looking at one of my early sketches. “Taking the broken pieces and making something even stronger, more beautiful.”
I’d just stared at him, a lump in my throat.
He understood. He truly understood.
That night, with the aroma of pasta filling my small studio, I felt a flicker of warmth, a thawing around the edges of my carefully guarded heart.