The first time Elena saw Matteo, he was tending to the jasmine vines that grew wild along the stone wall of the old courtyard. She was new to the village, having moved into the house next door just a week prior, her life packed into a dozen cardboard boxes and one hopeful heart. Every morning, Matteo was there—watering the plants, brushing fallen petals off the worn cobblestones, and humming softly as the sun filtered through the leaves. Elena would sip her coffee by the window, watching, wondering about the stories behind his quiet smile. One morning, as she tried to coax a stubborn window open, it slipped from her fingers and crashed shut. The noise startled Matteo, who looked up and caught her eye. He smiled and raised a hand. Embarrassed but smiling, she waved back. That afternoon, she found a small pot of jasmine on her doorstep, a note tucked beneath its leaves: "For your window view - so you don't always have to watch from afar." - M. The simple gesture broke something open
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