Page 148 of Chasing Gold, Catching Her

Alisa sniffled quietly but tried desperately to hold back her tears because the last thing she wanted now was for her mascara to start running and ruin the makeup and eyeliner she had spent nearly an hour applying in complete silence in the hotel bathroom.

“I don’t know…” she whispered weakly. “But I’d like to believe that.”

“It’s going to be okay…” Tora repeated softly, gently patting Alisa’s thigh in an attempt to calm her down as the taxi carried them through the night streets of Milan.

Italian music played quietly from the radio while the two of them sat in silence, watching the city lights blur past the windows.

Alisa felt strangely uncomfortable here.

It was difficult to explain properly, but everything about the city felt foreign to her outside the Olympic Village. The buildings seemed too massive somehow, the streets too wide, the sidewalks too open, and the atmosphere itself felt unfamiliar in a way that made her chest tighten slightly.

Maybe Milan simply wasn’t her city.

Everything here felt strange. Strange and distant and somehow hostile, even though logically she knew nobody around her cared enough to hate her personally. Perhaps it was simply the aftermath of everything that had happened over the last few hours finally settling into her nervous system all at once.

Alisa didn’t fully understand her own emotions anymore.

Without thinking, she pressed herself closer against Tora’s side while Tora continued absentmindedly stroking her thigh, trying to calm the restless tension constantly running through Alisa’s body.

The drive passed quickly while Alisa dissociated against the car window, staring blankly at the flashing lights outside and thinking about what she was even supposed to do now.

Where was I supposed to go?

Could I even return to Russia anymore?

If the news channels had already started reporting the kiss with Tora, then perhaps returning home was no longer just emotionally impossible, but genuinely dangerous. The thought of airports, border control, reporters, officials, it all made her stomach twist painfully.

She felt completely lost.

Tora clearly sensed it too and stayed close beside her the entire drive, silently trying to anchor Alisa back to reality just through touch alone.

Eventually the taxi stopped outside Cantine Milano.

Tora stepped out first and immediately offered her hand to Alisa. Alisa accepted it automatically, leaning lightly against her as she climbed out of the taxi as well.

Still holding hands, they walked toward the restaurant entrance together.

The moment they entered, they were greeted by a hostess. Tora gave her name along with the reservation, and the woman smiled politely before leading them deeper into the restaurant toward a table where Tora’s parents were already sitting together, quietly talking among themselves.

On the table stood two enormous bouquets of flowers.

Identical bouquets of deep red roses.

Their fragrance seemed strong enough to fill the entire restaurant or at least that was how it felt to Alisa in that moment.

The interior itself was beautiful. Everything was decorated in dark brown and black tones with expensive polished wood and warm lighting that reflected softly across the restaurant. The atmosphere practically radiated quiet luxury without feeling vulgar about it.

It was elegant.

For the first time that entire evening, Alisa stepped into a place that actually felt peaceful.

Tora’s mother turned first, as if she had instinctively sensed her daughter’s arrival. She waved them over toward the table immediately, her face lighting up with recognition.

She stood up and walked to meet Tora first, pulling her into a warm embrace, and then without hesitation she hugged Alisa as well.

“Good evening, girls…” she said gently.

Tora’s father waved from the table too, then rose and joined them, wrapping both Tora and Alisa into a wide, slightly overwhelming group hug that somehow managed to be both formal and affectionate at the same time.