The golden afternoon bled into evening, streaks of tangerine and blush painting the sky above Italy’s countryside villa. The scent of aged wine, warm earth, and blooming jasmine clung to the breeze as Amelia sat with her legs curled beneath her on the garden bench, her fingers absently toying with the petals of a white rose Enzo had given her earlier. She was lost in the echoes of their confession—those words they’d been dancing around for months, finally set free. And yet, despite the warmth that still pulsed in her chest, something lingered. A weight. An anticipation.
The doors creaked open behind her. She didn’t have to look to know it was him. His presence always came with a hush—a silence that filled the space like thunder.
He didn’t speak at first. Just came to stand behind her, re
