Chapter Three: Live for Me

The night in Florence was soft, with a warm breeze barely moving the curtains. Olivia closed her journal with trembling hands. She felt that something inside her had started to change. It wasn't a lighter absence, nor a less deep sadness, it was something else... as if everything she had kept in her heart for months now wanted to come out, to transform.

She walked toward her small desk, where her laptop sat covered in dust. She turned it on, without thinking too much, as if a gentle voice guided her from deep within.

The blank document awaited her. It blinked, insistently, as if it knew the moment had arrived.

Olivia took a deep breath, placed a hand on her pendant, and wrote at the top:

"Live for Me"
A story of love, loss, and eternity.

She let the tears fall as her fingers glided over the keyboard. It wasn't just a book. It was her final letter to Tom, her way of honoring him, of keeping him, but also of letting go.

She began by writing from the beginning, from the first day their paths crossed, from the first time they laughed together, from the song they sang in the kitchen while making pasta. She didn't leave out the gray days, the doubts, or the pain.

But she also didn't forget the dreams they had woven together, the promises, or Tom's last letter, the one that told her she had to live for him too.

Each word was a step forward. Each memory, a flower blooming amid the grief.

Hours later, Elías knocked softly on the door. He carried two cups of tea and a folded blanket in his arm.

—I thought maybe... you'd need this —he said with a calm smile.

—I'm writing —Olivia replied, her voice filled with a mix of pride and tenderness—. It's going to be a book. It's going to be called Live for Me... because that's what Tom asked me to do. Not to fade away. To keep living... for him too.

Elías placed the blanket on her shoulders and left the cup by her side.

—Then I can't imagine a better title.

And Olivia, for the first time in a long time, felt that she wasn't just surviving. She was beginning to write her life again.