Noah shrugged.
The truth was, he was more awake now than he had been when they’d landed. He was practically buzzing, all because of Ramin. Seeing his old friend had been like a jolt of electricity.
“I can put him to bed if you want to go do something,” she said.
Too late for that. The only thing Noah wanted to do was go back to that gelateria. He couldn’t even say why. But seeing Ramin had been so unexpected, so joyful. He hadn’t felt like that in a long time.
That wasn’t Angela’s fault, though.
“You sure? I don’t mind.” Truth be told, Noah was usually better at dealing with Jake’s bedtime, but Angela shook her head.
“I need the practice,” she muttered. “Especially if he’s going to be living with me here.”
Noah swallowed away the lump in his throat.
“Okay.”
The hotel gym wasn’t bad—some free weights, a few machines, treadmills—but no matter how much Noah lifted he couldn’t stop his mind from swirling. Now that he was alone, he realized he was annoyed. Annoyed at Angela for running them all ragged, and annoyed at himself for not complaining, and annoyed at his life because he was thirty-eight years old and single and the only good thing in his life, his son, might be moving across the ocean.
A shower didn’t help. Neither did spending some time with his sketchbook, which usually settled his nerves.
Plus he was hungry.
He knocked on Angela’s door, but the only answer was a soft snore. So he sent her a text, letting her know he was going out, and headed down.
The streets had cooled off a bit as the afternoon shadows grew. Colorful stucco façades lined every street, with apartments above and shops or restaurants below. Every so often, the buildings broke apart for a park, or a hotel, or a church, or a gleaming steel-and-glass tower that looked out of place against its neighbors.
Noah was relieved to be able to just wander without having to stick to Angela’s itinerary, but now that he was on his own, he did kind of wish he knew where he was going. He had his phone, so it wasn’t like he was in danger of getting lost, but still. He hadn’t had time to look up restaurants or sights to see or anything like that.
So he just kept walking. At one point, he passed a child a few years younger than Jake talking to a grown-up in rapid-fire Italian, their tiny, clasped hand raised to gesture emphatically along with whatever they were saying.
Noah smiled but stopped himself from laughing aloud. Even Italian children talked with their hands.
The next block, he passed a row of restaurants. The smell of cheese and pasta and meat slammed into him, setting his stomach to growling and his mouth to watering. He really did need to eat something. One of the restaurants had a little outdoor patio full of people crammed into tiny tables. It smelled so good, but there was a line down the block. Who knew how long it would take?
Noah shook his head and kept walking. Maybe he could find whatever passed for fast food in Italy. But as he strolled past the patio, he stopped and doubled back.
It couldn’t be.It couldn’t be.
There, sitting alone at a little table for two, sat Ramin, studying the menu.
“Ramin?”
seven
Ramin
Once was a coincidence.
No, that wasn’t right. Maybe once was an accident?
Whatever the quote was, what did it mean if something happened twice?
“Noah?” Ramin blinked at Noah, standing on the other side of the fence. “What’re you doing here?”
Noah smiled, his eyes sparkling in the warm patio lights, and Ramin felt his cheeks heating up.
“I was hungry.”
