" 'Yuri's Luck' has more strict rules than the 'Bruce & Ashton' company," Anila told him about her current job. "I got used to the freedom that I had at Bruce's thanks to you."

    Sidoreli, sitting across from her on the soft brown sofa in the living room of his house, grinned lightly.

    "You can come back whenever you want," he offered. "It would be a pleasure for me."

    "What kind of pleasure?" She ran her fingers softly across his exposed arm in his white short-sleeved T-shirt. "As a colleague, or as my boyfriend?"

    "Which one do you like the most?'

    Anila laughed at his flirtatious question. "Colleague," she openly lied. "But I'm free to have my mind changed."

    The brighter brown of her eyes added more liveliness to him, and he grinned.

    "I missed you."

    "Me too," Anila agreed with her head down. "I'm sorry. All those things happened because of my fault. That day, when we were going to the sea after you left my house, I thought that nothing bad would happen if I looked in a mirror, that my fear had passed, and I used the elevator mirror to find out, but I was early."

    She recalled the indifferent face that she had made, to look unaffected and not think about Blerimi, and remembered the brokenness she had suffered when she had seen herself in the mirror: the running inside the house, the locking of the main door, the hiding in the bedroom, which was the furthest room from the elevator, the crouching of her body at the edge of the room, and the crying as if the mirror had followed her there.

    "I couldn't call you out of fear that you would inadvertently judge me as crazy for being tired of my situation. I thought that I would never overcome that situation and decided to save you by breaking up with you."

    Sidoreli was listening formally with seriousness, without making any face of pity or anger.

    "What did you realise then?" he asked with the same strict energy in his voice.

    "That you truly love me, and you are worth being in my life. I don't want to leave you anymore." Anila felt a slight sting in her eyes from the thin layer formed by the tears.

    "You're here now; that matters." Sidoreli caressed her hair without changing his facial expression, and she smiled, feeling stronger from the energy reflected in his physical features. He was like an unshakable foundation for the shocking events that could happen to a man, from whom she could always find support.

    "Sidorel, I accept all the responsibility for how things went between you and me," said Anila. "If you're confused about the two of us and need some time to clarify things for yourself, that's fine with me."

    "I'm not confused at all," he said in a serious tone, like the moments when he made an important decision in life. "I am with you because I want to be, not with two minds nor out of compulsion. If I want to break up, I'll tell you. I won't do anything behind your back or cause you problems if you want to break up. I'll completely give up on you. So you can stay calm."

    "Thank you for the respect," she looked at his lips and smiled, seduced by their beautiful, unchanged colour.

    "Do you have anything to say or do?" He encouraged her, and Anila approached him to kiss him.

    He pulled her closer to sit on his lap and continued the interrupted kiss.

    "I want to tell you something." She rested her right hand on Sidoreli's chest and gave her left hand the sensation of touching his hair. "You know that day when we met in a bar, and you came with your brother and another woman?"

    "Yes, Emanueli and his wife, Arjana."

    "I looked in the mirror, and I noticed you there, too. Then I got rid of my fear of them, thanks to you. Now I can look in the mirror without being negatively affected at all. I only see myself without remembering the past at all."

    "You don't see mirrors as a problem anymore?"

    Anila liked the fact that he didn't use the term fear, so as not to make her feel uncomfortable, and happily shook her head.

    "No, I don't have."

    "Anila, this makes me so joyous," Sidoreli kissed her. "So, I have permission to go out with you for a drink somewhere suggested by me."

    "Yes," she said enthusiastically, that she would go out with him again.

••••
    The bar that Sidoreli suggested had just been opened in Tirana. The light colours of the environment brought to mind the Middle East in summer, and Anila liked how the sunlight entering through one side of the glass wall melted through the environment, as if they were in their own special home.

    "Mateo had been here a few days ago with his friends. He had posted a photo of him in the 'story' on Instagram and tagged the location of the bar," explained Sidoreli, sitting down next to the glass wall on the light clay-coloured chairs. "I immediately remembered the sun because of the clouds, and I wanted to bring you here."

    "It looks like a great place." She gazed around, taking a few seconds to look at every detail in the bar, but only one customer could impress her enough for Anila to look at her for more than a few seconds. "Oh!" She liked the surprise of the coincidence and stood up.

    Brunilda smiled at her from the main door to the left of the counter and walked towards her when Anila beckoned for her to come closer.

    He forthwith recognised Alketa's former teacher, and he stood up as well.

    "How are you?" Brunilda shook his hand first and then hugged her friend tightly.

    "Great," Anila brought her close to her. "Sidorel, this is my best friend." She looked proudly at Brunilda, who knew her enough to call her a close friend, and he smiled happily that she had such a person in her life.

    "Nice to meet you." Sidoreli looked respectfully at Brunilda, and the latter looked at him in the same way.

    "You have met once, Brunilda has told me. Your sister studied at the school where she works."

    "Yes," he confirmed.

    "Anila."

    The happy voice behind them turned the three to meet the excited laughter of Blerta Mino as she approached.

    "I have been wondering since six years ago about who you were interested in, Sidoreli, and it seemed incredible to me when I saw the three of you."

    Anila's face went pale, as if a shameful secret of hers had been revealed, and her relatives, who had been stabbed in the back, were discovering that she had deceived them.

    "How are you, Sidorel?" Blerta shook his hand first, then Brunilda's, who was standing next to Sidoreli, to make her part of the group, and she turned to Anila, who looked sad.

    They would find out that she had wanted to introduce them, and the situation would become very uncomfortable.

    "But you have hit the mark," admitted Blerta, while adoringly glancing at Sidoreli and Brunilda. "You look great together."

    They both looked at each other, confused, and then at Anila for clarification.

    "Girl. You have lost completely." Blerta ignored Anila's mood. "Text me on Instagram, and let's hang out someday."

    "OK," Anila said through her teeth.

    "Sorry, I could only stop for two seconds to greet you. Have a nice day. I do not doubt that I will receive the news of your wedding," she shook hands with Sidoreli and Brunilda, both waiting for her to leave, and Anila to speak.

    "See you, Ania." Blerta kissed her on both cheeks and left the bar.

    Anila sat on the chair, completely defeated by life.

    That was the final hit. She would have to tell Brunilda and Sidoreli the truth. They would start to feel for each other because it had been decided since the beginning for them to be together, and Anila would be known in their story as the evil witch, who had wanted to separate them, the jealous girl of her close friend, who had thought that fate would change, as she wished, but she hadn't been able to take the love of Brunilda's life, no matter how many tricks she had done; she would be the villain, the story of which no one would want to hear, because it was nothing but negativity and poison.

    That explained everything: that she would never be forgiven for being wrong about Blerimi and treating Brunilda badly years ago, and that she was condemned to be a clown for the rest of her life. Every time she would try to stand up, she would be knocked down by a sudden hit, and the others would laugh at her fall.

    She told them the version that had remained only as an unrealized plan made by her for Brunilda and Sidoreli, when Anila had met the tattooist for the first time, with her hands placed on the light sand-coloured table and her face hanging down, knowing that that was going to be the last day she would be friends with Brunilda and date Sidoreli, while they both listened to her, sitting in the chairs next to her.

    "Last year, in June, I met Sidoreli at a company, and because we were working in the same environment, I started to feel for him. Not because of you," she swore to Brunilda. "Not because I thought that you had met him and liked him, but only to hurt you, I decided to date him."

    "I know," Brunilda squeezed her hand lightly. "Anila, stop seeing yourself as a bad person. You aren't like that at all. We know you. You just want people to be OK and not take advantage of your kindness by treating you badly; otherwise, you'll draw the line with them immediately. You don't have to prove anything to us. I am very sad that you must have been under such stress for fear that we would turn our backs on you."

    Anila lowered her head in despair over those feelings that she had had.

    "You did well for not telling us anything." Brunilda said. "See? There had been other plans for us. Who knows how much chaos we would have had in life if you had insisted on deciding for us? Now things are as they should be. You love each other and are dating together, and I have other plans for my life. Perfect."

    "I don't want to lose you," she expressed with a trembling voice, her fear of living again in a time without them.

    "Don't worry. You won't be able to get rid of us without loving you well and well," Brunilda promised jokingly.

    Anila felt grateful to her and returned to Sidoreli.

    "Do you need any explanation from me?" he asked neutrally, with a silent rendition in his eyes, how deeply he felt for her, and he wouldn't have that kind of love for any other woman except for Anila.

    "No," she smiled gratefully, and she glanced at Brunilda with her heart eyes at Sidoreli's look at her friend and how happy she was for her.

    'Anila! Look at how beautifully he loves you!' demanded her admiring gander.

    Anila took a deep breath and felt rich in her soul, knowing that she had both of them in her life.

    Even if it had happened that she had continued dating Blerimi and he had given up on his plan for her, she had a strong feeling that she would have sought to reconcile with Brunilda and somehow would have ended up in a relationship only with Sidoreli. That future was as if it had been inevitable in all forms, no matter how the past would have happened.

••••
    Sidoreli's silence on the way to her house tried to make Anila too, for itself, when she noticed tension on his face.

    Visara was staying at her friend's house to study, and their parents had gone to meet a relative of Etleva who had just been discharged from the hospital in Elbasan.

    Anila had suggested that they spend the afternoon at her house, watching TV in a different environment, and he had accepted.

    "Sidorel," she put her hand lightly on his arm. "I'm sorry; I don't mean to distract you," she apologised in advance. "Why are you upset?"

    "Oh, no." He took the turn of the car towards the apartment building where Anila lived. "I was thinking about a drawing. I'm not upset."

    "OK," she felt better, as Sidoreli also seemed calmer.

    He was deeply troubled by what Anila had said-that she didn't want to lose him, and it seemed like the only fair decision to tell her about Amarildo. Maybe if he told her himself, it would be easier to convince her.

    "This is my room," she gestured from the left door next to the main one, as soon as they crossed the threshold of the house. "And this is the living room with the kitchen," she pointed to their right and directed him towards there. "Shall I prepare orange juice?"

    "OK," he followed her towards the kitchen.

    He had to tell her. For how long was he going to avoid her? What if fate threw him away if he let it up to it to fix the situation?

    "Anila."

    He had to keep quiet. What if she didn't believe him?

    "I have to tell you something."

    Anila placed the oranges on the counter.

    "Sure, tell me." She smiled understandingly from the beginning, and Sidoreli was silent for a few moments. How would he be able to tell her?

    "It's about your brother, Amarildo."

    Anila frowned.

    "Before he came to Albania and got killed, he texted me on Instagram," Sidoreli said, alarmed at an extreme level, that Anila would burst out of rage from moment to moment, or she would say completely calmly, that she had known about him since the beginning but hadn't made a sound herself.

    "To get a tattoo done?"

    "Yes. To get a tattoo done," he replied immediately, with more hope that he would be understood. "He said that he would return to Albania on November 14th, and he wanted to come to the studio on the 15th. I told him that the studio would be closed from November 10th to 20th, as I would be changing locations, and he agreed to come after that date. Then..." He let out a deep breath. That was the hardest part. "He texted me again the next day. He said that he would come to Albania on the 3rd of November, and on the 4th he wanted to get the tattoo done, if it was okay for me that day, and I agreed."

    Anila understood, rather, from his nervous look, why he was explaining all that to her, and she took a step back, fearfully looking at him.

    "Why are you telling this to me now?" She thought quickly about taking a knife to the white drawer next to the left if he tried to attack her.

    "If I explained to you sooner, you wouldn't believe me when I told you that I didn't tell Amarildo like that, because I wanted to set a trap for him, bring him to Albania, and kill him because you didn't know me. That's why I waited to prove to you first that I'm not an evil person, and I have never had the intention to hurt you."

    "You... that's the only reason you have been in a relationship with me?" A future similar to the end of Blerimi began to loom on the horizon like dark warning clouds in a lightning storm.

    "No," he refused instantly. "I dated you because I loved you, and I still do. I found out that you're Amarildo's sister only when I heard your last name that day when we met for the first time in the company. Anila, I didn't kill Amarildo. He was just a random potential client who I talked to about the studio closing. I have told many others the same thing. I have the messages; if you want to read them."

    "When your sister, Alketa, started working for the company, you..." The tangle was starting to be unravelled now that Anila had found the thread. "You decided to work there too, because of the fear that I would hurt her."

    Sidoreli approved that hypothesis with a glance.

    Would she have killed her? If Anila had found out before he told her anything about his messages with Amarildo, would she have killed Alketa as a sign of revenge and been affected by the fear that Sidoreli could kill Visara as well? Would she have chosen to become evil like Blerimi? Had she left the impression that she was such a person, and that was why Sidoreli had been forced to take measures?

    "You... you have known everything." She couldn't believe the conclusion that she was coming to. "You told Blerimi when Amarildo would come to Albania, and when you found out what he had done against me, your conscience hit you, and you started dating me with the thought that if I loved you, I would forget everything!"

    "No, it didn't happen like that," he denied immediately, as if he were walking on a tightrope over the flames. If he lost his balance by saying the wrong words, he would fall on the fire. "I don't know Blerimi at all."

    She put her hands over her ears so she wouldn't hear his name.

    "Anila, it's not true." Sidoreli felt worse from her stepping away when he tried to approach her, and she pressed her nails forcefully into the scalp of her hair. "Don't hurt yourself." It was as if pieces of glass were stuck in his chest at the same time.

    "Oh, God! How could I have been so blind?" Anila wanted to cry, but her tears had turned into emotions of rage in her body. "You also said that you were waiting for me to get up," she recalled more ironically. "Because it's your fault that I fall, and you feel it's your duty to wait!" she raised her voice.

    Sidoreli shook his head pessimistically, thinking that he wouldn't be believed anymore.

    "What else have you lied to me about?" Anila asked to know.

    "When... when I said that I could break up with you whenever I wanted. I said that just so you don't think I'm too obsessed with you, and if you ever want to break up with me, I wouldn't accept. I lied. I can't break up so easily. I will always fight for you." He vowed with a serious look, as if he didn't care, that he could be wrong. That was how he wanted to act, and no argument against him would change his mind.

    Anila felt angry that she believed him.

    "What's going on?" Visara entered the living room, worried and scared, when she saw her sister's state.

    "Visara," Anila went to her. "Sidoreli told Ildo to come to Albania at the beginning of November six years ago!"

    "What?!" blood left Visara's face.

    "I only told him that the studio would be closed from November 10th to 20th," Sidoreli repeated. "I don't know why he decided to come before the 14th and get the tattoo done on November 4th."

    "He came because you convinced him!" Anila kept accusing him. She would never endanger her sister because she felt that he was telling the truth and had nothing to do with Amarildo's murder. "Your family knew about him, too, didn't they? You will all end up in jail!" she swore. "One by one!"

    "Ania," Visara called her in a fragile voice.

    "Visara, don't be afraid," she squeezed protectively her little sister's hand.

    "I asked Amarildo to come to Albania before the 14th."

    "What?" Anila stepped back, as if she had just been hit by a car.

    "I'm sorry," Visara started to cry. "I'm sorry! I couldn't tell you!"