Page 74 of The English Bookstore in Bologna

Her smile came to full form. “Condemn it? It’s a tiny little mouse.”

“Or ten. We don’t know how many. Trust me.”

Bianca could see that he was half joking, but he was half serious too. They could apologize all they wanted, but neither of them was going to change, so she had to find a path toward acceptance of exactly who he was.

Aroldo cracked his eyes open, realizing that he’d fallen asleep. Spotify had gone deep, playing similar artists to Bad Bunny. The bass of the music sent vibrations through the couch. Alice was curled into a ball with her bare feet under a pillow, the blanket covering most of her. Her head rested on his thigh. He reached for his phone and turned down the music, then instinctively petted her forehead.

She stirred, pulling her feet away from the pillow, revealing turquoise nails. He thought she might be waking, but she simply snuggled deeper into him. Never had he felt so whole.

He studied her face, drawing imaginary lines from one freckle to another. She had the cutest little nose, a feline nose. Her cheeks had the slightest rosiness to them. He let his eyes drift lower, breathing in her body, the smooth skin of a china doll, the easy curves.

He adjusted himself and then set his mind to wondering what would happen from here. Things had to be different.

If this was his chance, he had to be better than ever before, love her like he never had. He wasn’t sure if it was Aroldo or Harold having these thoughts, but it made sense. She was more than her pretty face. He felt for her, the pain she experienced last night. She deserved more.

How dare Renzo treat her like that. How could anyone yell at her?

She deserved so much more, and he’d give her that.

When Alice finally woke, her eyes grew wide.

“Buongiorno, ragazza,” Aroldo said, unfazed by her confusion.

“What time is it?”

“Seven.”

She rubbed her eyes, the most adorable thing he’d ever seen, a kitty cat pawing at herself. “Did you sleep like that?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to wake you.”

She sat up. “Thank you. What a shitty night.” She reached for her phone. “Twenty missed calls. Fuck him.”

“You picked up a potty mouth since I last saw you.”

“Yeah, well, he drives me crazy.” She read her messages as she spoke.

Aroldo wondered how he should play it. Then it came to him. “How about I go grab a couple of pastries and some fresh OJ. I’ll make you breakfast for old times’ sake.”

She set her phone down. “Yeah, okay. I need a shower. Did I leave any clothes here?”

He shrugged, pretending like he hadn’t once cuddled with the jeans and shirt she’d left in the washer. “You’d have to check. I’m not sure.”

Aroldo dressed in casual Aroldo attire, spent longer than Harold might working on his hair, then went out to find breakfast and a flower. Nothing too over the top, simply a tulip to brighten her morning.

By the time she’d finished her shower, he was ready for her. She appeared in his T-shirt, her hair pressed down by lingering water.

“You’ve been shopping, huh?” she said. “The closet’s full.”

“Yeah, uh, trying to clean myself up.”

He thought she might kiss him, but she slipped into her chair instead, eyeing what he’d done. Pastries, fresh juice, her latte how she liked it. She unfolded the piece of paper he’d left on her plate, then read it out loud, her voice sweeter than any pastry.

“After the fighting, the wars, the pointless battles, with yourself and others; after the storm passes, when the clouds break, when the birds resume their song, you’ll still be standing, because that’s what we do. We find a way to push through and begin again.”

Alice set down the paper. “That’s beautiful. Who said that?”

“I got it from this book I’m reading.” He pointed to From Meh to Megawatt on the other side of the table and told her about the book and Bianca, who now lived on their street.