“So, Isabella, do you want children?”
I turned to him very slowly, my mouth opening and closing. Finally, I managed with a tight throat, “What point is there in wanting something I can't have?”
Leonardo shook his head, pouring milk into a coffee and handing it to me. “That doesn’t answer the question.”
I took the mug from him, turning away and sipping it slowly. “I do, but that’s a wish and wishes are for dreamers.”
“I never quite agreed with that saying.” I turned back to him, and he was staring straight ahead, his hands folded on his lap. “You could be wide awake and still wish. People should be allowed to wish, to dream. I’ll never understand why the world has to put a veil on everything.”
The way he said it, his distant gaze, his soft voice, it almost seemed as though he was talki
