The shadow of passion

ids still heavy with dreams. The bedroom, decorated in a minimalist style, reflected her taste for simplicity: white walls, a shelf filled with architecture books,

er. Every morning felt like the one before, a well-oiled routine that made her feel trapped in an endless loop. S

gave her a smile, one of those smiles that once warmed her heart but now seemed almost mechanical. "Good morning, m

, fresh fruits, and, of course, steaming black coffee. Thomas immersed himself in hi

eyes glued to the screen. His tone was distra

lieving it. She forced a smile, but inside, a persi

ant. She recalled the promises of their early days, those shared dreams of travel and adventure. Today, she felt im

m his phone. "I need to finalize the file for the client." Léa nodded, but the words didn't resonate with

t but tired eyes, dark circles she was trying to hide with makeup. She changed into a simple but elegant dress that gave her a pro

, Léa scrutinized her reflection in the mirrors. She saw herself as a version of herself, a shadow of the vibrant woman she had once been.

and models scattered across the tables. Léa settled at her desk, adorned with a few photos from past travels, memories that made her nosta

her. Always full of energy, Emma had the knack for making any enviro

es, everything's fine. Just a bit of work," s

ed. "You know, I heard you talking about Thomas t

she couldn't run away. "It's just... the routine, I suppose. I

you just need to take a moment for yourself, take

lone? The prospect of escaping the daily grind was appealing, but she knew it wouldn't change a

murmured, wit

imagined unknown landscapes, vibrant cities where she could lose herself, where she could feel that spark of life sh

truggle against her own thoughts. She grabbed her bag and left the office, the city lights beginning to flicker around

life. She secretly hoped he would take the time to reflect on their relationship, that he would notice her unease. But

ed in the void. Thomas barely looked up, a distrac

mple dinner, but she struggled to focus. Thoughts swirled in her head: was this really the

words, but the conversation remained superficial. Léa felt like a stranger in her own home. She wondered if she sh

e the void that filled her. She wanted to regain her passion, her joy

elf not to let the days pass without taking action. As she closed her eyes, she vowed that she

spark of hope lit up her heart. Maybe tomor