"I should probably wait for Sebastian and Aria?—"
"They'll be ages with the planner. Trust me, I've sat through those meetings.” His hand pressed against the small of my back, insistent. "We'll be back before they even notice you're gone."
I looked at Matteo. He was watching us with that careful, neutral expression. Whatever had been building between us moments ago had vanished, replaced by something closed off.
"Go," he said. "I'll finish up here. We can discuss the final selection another time."
"Matteo—"
"It's fine,Bella." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Enjoy your dinner."
Femi was already steering me toward the door, his hand firm against my spine. I let myself be moved, too off-balance to resist.
At the threshold, I glanced back. Matteo stood alone at the table, surrounded by wine bottles and afternoon light, his hands in his pockets, and his shoulders were tight.
He raised one hand in a small wave.
Then Femi's hand pressed more firmly against my back, and we were gone.
The restaurant was exactly as promised. Exclusive and elegant. The kind of place where the menu didn't list prices because if you had to ask, you couldn't afford it.
Femi ordered for both of us. Wine, appetizers, entrees. He didn't ask what I wanted, just assumed he knew.
I sat across from him and tried to focus on what he was saying. Something about the restaurant's Michelin-starred chef. A story about the favor he'd called in, making sure I understood how impressive this was. The impressed tone he clearly expected me to adopt.
But my mind kept drifting back to Sebastian's dining room. Matteo's thumb on my lip. The almost-kiss that had evaporated the moment Femi walked in.
"You're quiet," Femi observed.
"Just tired."
"The wedding planning wearing you out already?"
"Something like that."
He reached across the table and took my hand, his grip warm and confident. "You work too hard, Issy. You really must learn to relax properly."
"I relax."
"When? Name the last time you did something just for fun. Not work. Not family obligations. Just pure enjoyment."
The vineyard, I thought. Crushing grapes with my hands while Matteo laughed at my expression. Rain on my face. His footsteps outside my door.
"I can't remember," I said instead, the lie bitter on my tongue.
"Exactly my point." He squeezed my fingers. "Let me take care of you. This weekend, we'll go somewhere. The Hamptons, perhaps. I know a place with an absolutely incredible spa."
"I have fittings this weekend."
"Cancel them."
"I can't cancel fittings for Aria's wedding dress, Femi."
"One day, then. Surely you can spare one day for us."
I pulled my hand back, reaching for my wine glass. "What was that about?" I asked. "At Sebastian's."
His expression flickered, defensiveness crossing his features. "What do you mean?"
