“Cecilia...”
My fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt.
Alexander leans in, his nose brushing the curve of my neck. The roughness of his beard sends a shiver through me, and I instinctively lean closer to him. “Il tuo profumo... Your scent makes me stop thinking when you’re this close.”
His hand tightens at my waist, pulling me flush to him. My other hand rests on his chest, and when he looks at me... my knees go weak. Nothing could pull my focus from his eyes, or stop what I know is seconds away.
His thumb glides along my cheekbone as he murmurs,“Tu sei il mio sole, la mia—”[XL]
He doesn’t finish.
My phone starts ringing, vibrating in the pocket pressed against his hip, putting an end to the tension. It takes me a few seconds to remember how to think and breathe. I slip a hand between us and pull out my phone.
I answer with Alexander still watching me, his hand resting on my face.
But then I hear Ethan’s voice. It’s like a bucket of cold water.
“Mom? I didn’t wake you, did I? I’m just calling to say I’m going to sleep at Conrad’s. We came here and he bought a new game, so we’re playing it.”
I step back from Alexander, and he lets me go, though I can feel the reluctance in the way his hand falls from my skin.
“No, honey, I’m not home yet. Don’t worry, you didn’t wake me,” I say, forcing my voice to sound normal... even though my pulse hasn’t slowed at all. “Take care and call me if you need anything, all right? I love you.”
As soon as Ethan hangs up, I turn and Alexander is no longer behind me. I notice the door to what I assume is the bathroom closed, and I stay exactly where I am, unsure of what to do.
A moment later, he returns... and I haven’t moved an inch.
“It was Ethan,” I say, lifting my phone. “He wanted to let me know he’s not sleeping at home tonight.”
Alexander smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “We should go back upstairs,” he says, his voice carefully controlled.
A pang of disappointment hits me, but I brush it off. “Of course.”
I turn away, dropping my phone into my purse and starting to undo the knot of the smock. But Alexander covers my hands with his.
He takes it off for me and helps me into my jacket, his touch still careful, tender... but not the same. Everything has shifted. No longer charged, no longer buzzing the way it has these past weeks.
It feels strained now. Like restraint, or regret.
We climb the stairs without a word. And this time, he doesn’t place his hand at the small of my back or reach for my hand.
The absence of that touch settles deep in my chest. Enough to make me wonder if maybe... maybe the interruption wasn’t a disappointment for him at all. Maybe it was a relief.
Alexander parks in front of my house and steps out to open the passenger door.
We didn’t stay much longer at Aurélie’s loft after going back upstairs. He wouldn’t let me skip dinner, so I had some of what was being served and finished another glass of wine. I talked with his sister for a while, and even when Alexander mingled with the other guests, he never strayed far from me.
When he opens my door, I step out, and he walks with me to my front steps without a single word. My fingers tight around the key, I wonder if I should invite him in… or if “goodnight” would feel too abrupt after everything that almost happened... and everything that didn’t.
But Alexander speaks first. “Thank you for coming with me tonight. I didn’t want to leave tomorrow without seeing you at least one more time.”
My heart stutters at the reminder that he’s flying back to Italy in the morning. I could have seen him more this week if not for my own foolishness.
“When will you be back?”
He runs a hand along his beard. “I’m not sure. I need to take care of business in Milan, deal with some family matters... and the closer we get to the end of the year, the more there is to resolve.”
“I understand,” I say, giving him a small smile, hiding what hearing this makes me feel. “Thank you for inviting me. I really enjoyed meeting your sister.”
