Linked.
Like something that wasn’t supposed to exist.
It felt surreal.
We continued walking until the beach shifted beneath our feet—sand giving way to rougher terrain, where jagged rocksjutted out and waves struck harder, hissing as they crashed and retreated against stone.
The sound was sharper here.
More forceful. More relentless.
We turned back toward the main stretch.
Dante was still carving through the sand with that same effortless control.
I told myself not to look.
I failed.
Again.
Vincenzo’s grip tightened—just slightly.
Not enough to hurt.
Just enough to remind me he noticed.
We walked in silence after that.
The kind that wasn’t empty—but wasn’t comfortable either.
Just... present.
When we reached the cars, he slowed, glancing once at his watch.
No change in expression. No outward reaction.
“You’re late for the meeting,” I said quietly.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”
Like it was nothing.
Like time bent for him.
He stepped closer to the car and took the keys from my hand—his fingers brushing mine again, briefly, intentionally. Then he slid into the driver’s seat without another word.
I hesitated only a second before opening the passenger door and getting in beside him.
The door shut with a solid click.
The engine started.
And just like that—
The beach disappeared behind us.
The drive back began in silence.
