“Thank you,” I murmur, standing beside him.
He smiles, eyes tender.“Andiamo, bella[XXXIII].”
We walk the long stretch toward the park in a comfortable ease. It feels like holding hands without actually touching.
People are scattered around, enjoying the end of a bright summer day. Children race across the grass, kicking a soccer ball, while others sit on benches reading. We pass a couple of runners keeping an easy pace along the path.
“I want to ask you something,” I say after a moment, “but if it’s too personal, please feel free not to answer.”
He stops, and I turn to face him.
“I’ve told you this before, and I meant it,” he says, his eyes steady on mine. “There’snothingyou can’t ask me.”
I give him a small smile, and we start walking again.
“Have you ever been married?”
I turn toward him just in time to catch the smile that touches his lips.
“I came close once,” he says. “But it was so long ago it feels like another lifetime.”
He waits a beat, then keeps going. “I met her when I used to spend the summers visiting my family in Italy. We were always close, and over the years, we started dating. Right after college, I asked her to marry me. But when we talked about the future, about kids and other important things, we realized our visions didn’t align. And even though I cared for her deeply, I ended the engagement.”
Something tightens in my throat. “Do you... do you care about her even now?”
The fondness in his smile tugs at my chest. “I’d say yes. We knew each other for many years. But that was more than seventeen years ago. It didn’t take long for us to realize we were better as friends than we ever would have been as husband and wife.”
I nod. “And those differences you mentioned... the visions that didn’t align?”
“She wanted children right after we got married; she wanted to be a young mother,” he explains. “But I wanted to wait a few years. I was about to start dedicating more time to Santoro Marmo, and when I became a father, I wanted it to happen at a moment when I could give myself fully to my children—not to the beginning of my career. It was something she couldn’t compromise on, and I respected that.”
We stop in front of a fountain. I sit on a nearby bench, and Alexander takes the seat beside me.
“Have you ever regretted it?” I ask, my voice hushed.
“No,” he says without a second of hesitation. “She met the love of her life, a good man. They were made for each other. I even went to their wedding.”
He pauses. “My father passed away not long after, and for years my focus was the company. When I eventually started thinking about serious relationships again, I wasn’t the same man I’d been in my early twenties. I knew exactly what I wanted, and none of the few relationships I’ve had since ever made me feel I should take a bigger step.”
He draws a deep breath, his voice deep and certain. “I can be pragmatic when it comes to work... but marriage is different. If it ever happens, it will be for love.Reallove.”
He finishes the sentence looking straight at me, and at that exact moment, a breeze sweeps past, brushing the back of my neck where my hair is pinned up; it sent a shiver over my skin. I can’t tell if it’s the wind... or the way he’s looking at me.
“And you?” he asks.
“Me? Getting married again isn’t on my mind.”
His hand comes to rest over mine on the back of the bench, his thumb tracing circles on my skin. “I know it’s not,” he says gently. “Not anytime soon, at least. But I meant... do you think you’ll ever feel ready to try again someday?”
I sit with the question for a moment before I answer. “I don’t know. Truth is, my experience with relationships is almost nonexistent. I married my first boyfriend and spent all these years with the same person.” I draw in a breath, surprised to realize that saying it out loud doesn’t bring that old ache to my chest anymore. “I don’t know if it will ever happen again... or if I’d even recognize it when it does.”
Alexander looks at me with an expression that’s both intense and unreadable. “You’ll know,” he says. “When the moment comes, you’ll know.”
And the way he says it, with that conviction...
“What are your plans for the rest of the summer?” he asks next, catching me off guard.
I let out a laugh. “Spend time with my children whenever they actually have time for me... and work?”
