I inhale slowly, forcing my lungs to work, forcing my thoughts back into place.
“It’s best if he forgets about me,” I say, quieter now but firmer. “Now we just have to make sure he doesn’t have a reason to look for me.”
Dante studies me, then nods once. “That’s how it has to be.”
I give him a small smile, one that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “I know.”
He lingers a little longer, like he’s making sure I won’t shatter the second he leaves, then slips out to help Teresa.
I take a moment to breathe, to splash cold water on my face, to wipe away the evidence of everything I’m feeling. Then I tie on my headscarf and step back into the world I’m trying to build.
The restaurant hums with life. Familiar voices. The clink of plates. The warm, comforting chaos of people who are here for one simple thing: food.
Most of the customers are regulars. Dante and Teresa told them I’m a cousin visiting from America, and no one’s questioned it. Either they believe it or they’ve decided it doesn’t matter. Here, I’m just another girl carrying plates and refilling glasses.
The headscarf was my idea. I found it tucked in the spare room Teresa lets me use—a soft yellow silk scattered with tiny bright flowers. It reminds me of Sienna in a way I can’t quite explain.
Maybe because shewassunshine. Bright. Warm. Impossible to ignore.
My hand presses gently to my stomach. I’ve been thinkingabout names. If it’s a girl… I think I want to call her Sienna. She would have loved that. She would have demanded it.
Dante comes to a stop beside me, his presence familiar now, steady.
“You seem happy,” he observes.
“Just thinking about Sienna,” I say softly. Then I glance at him. “I don’t know if I’ve said it recently, but… thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being a good friend.”
He huffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You may be the only person in this world who sees me as a friend.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
Before he can respond, Teresa sweeps past, saying something rapid and teasing in Italian. I don’t understand the words, but I understand the effect.
The tips of Dante’s ears turn pink.
I grin despite myself. “Do I even want to know?”
“She’s suggesting I snag you up before one of the locals beats me to it.”
That pulls a real laugh out of me.
“You’ll have to let her know I’ve sworn off men.”
“You’re young, Juliette. You’ll love again.”
That sobers me instantly.
“How can you be sure?” I ask, quieter now.
“I’m speaking from experience.” He doesn’t elaborate. Just glances over my shoulder, the moment closing as quickly as it opened. “Now, get back to work before the boss has to fire you.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, mock saluting him.
The rest of the day blurs into motion—orders, plates, laughter, the steady rhythm of a life that almost feels normal. By the time Teresa flips the Closed sign in the front window, my feet ache and my shoulders are tight, but there’s a lightness in my chest I didn’t expect.
