“I think this was one of your best ideas yet,” she murmured softly, moving closer.
I smiled, pulling her into a discreet embrace as we watched Clara laugh, struggling with a marshmallow that melted too fast.
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “I think I agree.”
Hours later, after countless laughs, silly stories, and far too many toasted marshmallows, Clara finally fell asleep between us inside the tent, a peaceful smile on her face.
Valentina sighed, looking at me with a soft, satisfied expression.
“Today was perfect, Enrico.”
I leaned in and gave her a gentle, brief kiss, feeling a deep gratitude settle in my chest.
“It was. And we’re going to have many more perfect nights like this—I promise.”
She smiled, lying down slowly beside our daughter, resting her head on the pillow as I settled on the other side, wrapped in a peace I hadn’t felt in a long time.
I fell asleep beneath a sky full of stars, surrounded by the two people I loved most in the world.
SIXTY-FOUR
VALENTINA FERRARA
I was anxious to return to the bakery after weeks away, completely focused on the Institute project. The opening was just three days away, and my chest was a chaotic swirl of emotions.
I shouldn’t even have gone to the bakery—there was still so much to do—and the truth was that Maristela was an incredible manager. Hiring her had been one of the best decisions I’d made in a long time.
She was running the bakery perfectly without me. First because I needed to focus on my daughter, and now because I had the institute.
But that morning, I woke up feeling like I needed the sense of normalcy that only being in the first place that was entirelyminecould give me. So I set aside two hours to spend there.
When I opened the shop door, I froze instantly, completely overtaken by surprise and the intense scent of fresh flowers.
The entire space was flooded with vibrant colors and delicate fragrances—bouquets and arrangements carefully spread acrosstables, counters, and even the floor, forming a breathtaking scene.
I brought a hand to my chest, stunned, as I walked through the transformed space.
On the main counter sat a particularly magnificent bouquet—red roses, white lilies, and small wildflowers woven together with such elegance and care that it immediately caught my attention.
A small handwritten note was attached to the flowers.
With trembling fingers, I picked up the card and read the few—but sincere—words in silence:
“To the most incredible woman I know. You deserve an entire world of flowers. With love, Enrico.”
My heart skipped wildly, tears filling my eyes as I absorbed those simple yet powerful words.
The vulnerability was intense—but something inside me warmed more and more as I read and reread that short message.
“Oh my God! What madness is this?!” Júlia’s loud, excited voice burst into the room, pulling me out of my emotional bubble.
She looked around in awe, her expression playful but full of expectation.
“Júlia…” I murmured weakly, smiling through tears as I still held the card.
She studied me for a moment and immediately understood that something special had just happened. She hurried over and wrapped me in a tight hug.
“Hey, my friend… what happened? Are you okay? This was Enrico, wasn’t it?”
