Anila sat down on the black sofa in front of the shelves and looked for the umpteenth time that morning for Brunilda's name as the selected contact to call.

    All the ardent enthusiasm of the previous day to tell her cousin about Sidoreli had been extinguished when she reached the entrance of her apartment, and, unable to protect herself in time from the overthinking, she completely surrendered and guessed that maybe introducing Brunilda to the tattoo artist would be a mistake.

    Perhaps she would be badly hurt by him, and the fault would remain with Anila, who had been deceived by Sidoreli's appearance as a good person and had included him in her friend's life.

    She was scared that the excuse that she had had no evil intentions and that it seemed normal to her that she had thought of the two of them hanging out together would be rejected by Brunilda's argument that no one had asked her to interfere in her private life and that she was the reason why she had experienced such suffering. If it had been written that she was going to meet Sidoreli, they would have known each other without Anila's foment.

    Such a version of life, too likely to be realised in the future, had made her remain silent in front of Brunilda, and when she had told Anila that she was going to stay for three days at her parents' house in Vlora, Anila hadn't talked to her about Sidoreli first, but she had thought that that much time away from her cousin would be enough to straighten out the situation and allow her to make a proper decision.

    Brunilda was going to be back in Tirana that evening, and Anila had to decide.

    She sighed, caught in a confusing dilemma about which to choose, and watched from the track the young people at the skating rink.

    Would she do the right thing if she let it fall into fate's hands? What if the latter had chosen her to make the acquaintance between her cousin and the tattooist a reality, and if she withdrew, in the future they both fell in love with each other, but due to certain circumstances they couldn't be together? Perhaps if it were really written that they would know each other and belong to each other, they would meet no matter the consequences, and no one would be able to separate them.

    She hoped immensely that Sidoreli would be as fair as he had seemed to her and that he would date Brunilda because Anila had the feeling that they would walk together in life.

    Fate; she exited the Contacts app and turned off her phone; she would leave it in the hands of life if that love story between her best friend and Sidoreli was going to be written, and Anila couldn't wait to consider him a relative of hers and for him to make Brunilda happy.

    "Melodi, what number the skates?"

    Anila turned her head towards the reception, looked for a moment at the girl in blue slacks and a white half-shirt who had called someone else behind her back, and looked at Melodia, who she realised was a brunette as tall as she was, didn't seem more than twenty-three years old, answered in an emphatic, serious tone "Thirty-nine," pushed her thick, black hair loose over her shoulder, casually gave Anila a serious look with an unusual strength in her dark brown eyes that gave her the energy of a warrior in life, and ignored the skater wearing soft cocoa shorts and a black crop top.

    "They should have named her Lightning," Anila guessed while taking off her white sneakers to put on her skates.

    She glanced once more at Melodia and the other girl, while they were approaching the sofa, and entered the rink. She noticed that Melodia's acquaintance left for the elevator with the phone in her left ear while she herself was observing the track, and Anila admired the way she looked like a storm that could only be faced by the great souls.

    She loved the fact that she had the appearance of a sweet, kind, and approachable person, and this helped her attract strangers easily and gave her the opportunity to create other associations. With the energy of an extrovert, she was the motivation at first for those who were afraid to talk to a stranger, fearing that they wouldn't get the positive reaction they needed; but sometimes she wanted to be the reward at the end, to appear like the rigorous and aloof people, who didn't speak to those who had low morals, to look like people who made others feel honoured, when they managed to get their attention, were chosen to talk to them and spend time with them.

    She left the rink and sat down to Melodia's right on the couch without looking at her, so as not to leave a negative impression.

    Anila pulled out the phone from the deep pocket of her jeans, saw the time 10:19 on the newly lit screen, glanced at Melodia as if she were watching towards the reception, and found a reason to get into the conversation with her.

    "Excuse me," Anila smiled at her as soon as Melodia turned to her with a frowning and judgmental look. "Your phone is coming out of your jeans' pocket," she gestured behind her back, and Melodia took the phone out of her pocket to hold it in her right hand. "I thought it would fall on the floor and break when you stood up; that's why I warned you."

    "Thank you," Melodia said in a serious tone to Anila. She glimpsed at her soft eyes and sweet smile and was affected for a moment, and her rigorous facial features were softened by the kind woman sitting on the couch next to her.

    "The phone has become like our sleep. We can't do anything without it," she added more softly than before, seized by a sudden desire to continue the conversation with Anila, to get that good feeling again from her presence and talking between them, and the other tilted her head in approval.

    "True, I'm more careful with my phone than myself when I eat, because I might choke," Anila confessed with a guilty laugh, and Melodia arched her lips slightly, a sign for the interlocutor that the storm had gotten her energy of positivity.

    "I bought this one two days ago. Had it been old, I wouldn't have minded." Melodia left her phone on the couch between them.

    "The ice doesn't forgive," Anila remarked. "I have dropped my phone several times on the tile floor, and it hasn't been broken, surprisingly, but I don't trust it over there," she gestured to the ice. "Now I have decided. When I buy a new phone, I'm going to say to the sellers, 'This phone has been dropped on the floor several times, and it hasn't been broken. Do you have one like this one? I won't buy any others.' "

    " 'Nokia,' they will tell you." 'The one from many years ago.' "

    "Right. Forgot about that."

    They both laughed and looked at Melodia's phone when its vibration lit up the screen.

    Anila was able to quickly read the message 'Where are you?' and the sender's name, 'Leonard Nura'.

    With Sidoreli and Brunilda immediately in the centre of her thoughts, she turned her head, overcome by adrenaline and enthusiasm, that Leonardi was Sidoreli's brother and that maybe Melodia was Sidoreli's sister-in-law, and now Anila had a strong feeling that she was going to meet him again and not just pass each other by.

    Blerimi managed to distract her from her close friend and the tattoo artist with the message he sent her.

    The thought that he was being paranoid about Brunilda and had to leave her alone since she hadn't destroyed his plans, which she didn't even know existed, hadn't been able to calm him down. What if she told Anila that Blerimi wasn't the right one for her, and Anila gave up on him?

    He had to take the next step. It was better to take measures than to have everything come unexpectedly, and while he was still recovering from the shock of what had happened, everything would end in a blink of an eye.

    The first part of the plan was successfully realised as soon as Amarildo's sister accepted the invitation to go on a picnic to the Artificial Lake of Tirana, and he immediately got down to work. He prepared everything that he had calculated was needed, and the next day, at 10:20, he was in front of her apartment.

    She hurried down the stone steps and strode up to the black car as if she were dancing with joy.

    Blerimi scrutinised the clothes she had chosen on that hot day in late August to let her think that he had noticed her appearance and smiled at her, knowing the woman was eagerly looking for his reaction to the clothes that she was wearing: an ankle-length grey A-line skirt with white and black horizontal and vertical stripes, a matching belt, white ALL STAR shoes, and a dark blue crop top. He realised that he had won her approval even more when he told her, with a flirtatious look, how beautiful she looked, and Anila smiled happily at him.

    "I am ready to bestow only happiness with my presence," she announced jokingly, in order not to be completely overcome by her feelings for him and not even be able to look Blerimi in the eye, as her face would be reddened with a second glance between them.

    He laughed and accepted her kiss on his right cheek. He put his arm behind her back as usual, but this time with the difference that he held her longer in a half hug. Anila understood his action and asked to know more while looking at him excitedly with curiosity so that he could express in words the meaning of that action.

    "People will be used badly by wanting to stay with you all the time," he said with his hand on her arm.

    "Well," she sighed merrily at his compliment. "You're realising that you have competition."

    "Yes," Blerimi chuckled. "And that's why I have thought of all those ways to impress you-to choose only me."

    "You have all my attention." Anila was tempted to accept, and he opened the passenger door on the right side of the driver.

    "Or would you like to drive?" he asked.

    "No, I trust you."

    That sentence was a reward for the level achieved and motivation for him to continue with the plan. Victory seemed closer to him than ever. There were only a few small steps to be taken.

    "OK," Blerimi got into the car.

    Anila had loved his suggestion to have a picnic at the Artificial Lake of Tirana, and they had agreed that if the weather didn't surprise them with its sudden change by raining, then they would do, as they had talked.

    Blerimi had thought a lot about finding an activity that she wouldn't refuse. Knowing that Anila was very fond of photos and constantly took them, he had thought that the picnic would be the perfect opportunity for her next posts on social media, and thus he would also benefit by appearing as someone who cared for her and as if he was really interested in her.

    On their way to The Lake, they stayed in silence like all the other times they had travelled together so that Blerimi wouldn't be distracted. Anila was carrying her beige bag on her lap and her phone in a yellow case in her hand.

    They found an empty table by the lake, laid a silver tablecloth over it, and placed the two beige picnic bags on the wooden table. Blerimi insisted that, for that day, he should deal with the organisation of everything, while she just enjoyed the picnic.

    In those peak summer hours, there was no one else in the area, and Anila was glad to be spending time alone with him with no one around.

    She was sitting on the bench again, staring at him, while Blerimi was placing the things he had bought on the table.

    "You're making the lake jealous," Blerimi teased her as he left the purchased pizza on the edge of the table to the right and placed the marshmallows next to her. 'All this beauty that I have, it says, and you choose to look at him?' " He referred to himself.

    "I'm sure that the lake would have done the same if it were me."

    He pursed his lips at her words and gave her an intense look of love, as he guessed Anila would like, and he hadn't been wrong. She lowered her gaze to the packed table and tried to look calm by taking a deep breath while the burning flame engulfed her heart-centred chest, and her mind only played the memory of the moment when Blerimi had looked at her as if he loved her.

    Such a fact seemed to be the same as the feelings Anila was realising she had for him. The attraction to him had been there ever since she first met him; those feelings had been formed after going on a few dates with him, and knowing it would end in love, she had welcomed that ending and was now happy that the reward was much more beautiful than she had expected. Blerimi loved her too.

    "Since you're saying it..." He handed her one of the glasses of red wine and sat in front of her. "It's good that it doesn't take revenge like you do," he added about the lake.

    "Are you the vengeful type?"

    Blerimi looked up and locked eyes with her.

    "I am," he answered firmly, and he waited for Anila to be afraid of his dark gaze and think negatively about him.

    "I see," was her reply, saddened that Blerimi could be forced in life to be put in a position to make such a decision. "I feel very sorry for people whose whole life is turned upside down, and they don't even get the support of others, but they are considered guilty because they couldn't fight, and that's why they become bad."

    "Righteous people like you will do the right thing," Blerimi said with hidden irony.

    "We will." Anila took those words seriously. "Thank God, we can't be lied to anymore. We know very well the truth that happy endings exist. The first person, who had said that they don't, must have been an evil one, who, to save themselves, has convinced the good people not to think about punishing the guilty ones when they do an unfair thing to them, but that life itself is only suffering and innocents had to accept any harm done to them. Well, not anymore. We will no longer blame the one who isn't guilty. The real culprits will get the deserved punishment, even if the culprit is us."

    "That is hard-punishing the real culprits. Bad people are very dangerous," argued Blerimi.

    "But the good ones are the most dangerous," replied Anila with confidence, that she was completely right. "Good people can do many illegal things to bad people whenever they want, and no one criticises them because they consider them in their rights. They are taking revenge for themselves for the injustices that have been done to them, whereas the bad ones, who are evil because they want to be, have the whole world against them. No one approves of their bad actions, and they are often stopped by the world, while no one stops the good ones."

    'What naivety!' he thought about her, and for a moment it didn't seem to him, as if Anila was acting, but that she was really a good person, and he felt pity for her.

    Someone had to get that woman out of the illusion and show her real life before it was too late.

    But it was already late, and someone didn't have to do anything because it was no longer worth it.

    He continued with the plan for a few more days to make sure that he would get a positive response from Anila, and, when he was certain that the time had already come to take the next step, before entering her apartment after dinner at a restaurant, she looked at Blerimi for something more from him, not just a greeting but showing his feelings in words. He thought once more about what he had long prepared for that moment before he spoke out loud.

    "Anila," he came closer to her and noticed how she held her breath, waiting impatiently to hear the desired words. "When I text you after I get home, I don't want to talk anymore, as if we're just two acquaintances who go out together, and that's it. When I think of you, I want to think that you're my girlfriend."

    Anila widened her eyes in surprise and couldn't say anything immediately.

    "Have I deserved to be chosen by you?" were the words of his proposal to be in a relationship together, and she immediately nodded exultantly.

    "Yes," she also divulged out loud.

    Blerimi pulled her closer, looked at her sweet rose-pink lips, and then back at her, like he wanted to kiss her, and he quickly kissed Anila before thinking that he didn't have to go so far and do something he didn't want to do.

    Even the motive justified the action to some extent.

    Anila breathed irregularly after breaking away from him and looked at him with brighter eyes than usual, as if her boyfriend had gifted her a vast shell filled with stars. A door slamming on the floor above separated them.

    "I'm not holding you longer. Someone may come and put you in a difficult position," Blerimi said in a whisper, and she nodded her head, dazzled by those moments with him. "Good night," he smiled at her.

    " 'Night," said Anila sweetly.

    Blerimi kissed her once more before she headed for the entrance. He waited until Anila locked the front door of her house and immediately wiped his lips forcefully.

    He couldn't even remember the moment when he kissed her because he quavered that such a nightmare would remain in his mind for the rest of his life. Especially when he thought that he would have to kiss her again, he felt much worse. He shook his head badly, overcome by negative feelings mixed with shades of disgust, and thought that only a drink at a bar would help.

    He still had some distance left from the end of the bridge that he was crossing. As soon as he secured himself, he would cut its ropes, and Anila, who was behind him, would fall into the abyss.