The return home is done in silence. Adele's velvety voice sings softly on the radio about never finding someone like you, and deep down, I know that the song's verse speaks a little about what I am going through. I think it would be difficult to compare anyone to Ettore. I look at him intermittently, taking in the shadows and night lights over the angles of his face. I know I am doing the right thing, self-preservation is best, but my heart still hurts just thinking about the fascinating man I am willingly walking away from.
We arrived at my house with less than ten words spoken between us. Strangely, I am still comfortable with Ettore's presence, despite my tumultuous decision I made earlier.
He opens the door and follows me with a sad half-smile on his lips. He places his hand on the s
