Epilogue
Damian hung a small framed photo on the wall between the kitchen and the living room window and stepped back. “How’s that?”
“Perfect.” Alex set his chin on Damian’s shoulder. “Our Euro-apartment’s first decor.”
They had moved into the apartment the day before, after searching rental units for the past two weeks. It lay a short bus ride from Alex’s office and within walking distance of a quiet, mossy park and a restaurant that sold good cheap pizza baked by actual Italians. In Damian’s opinion, the apartment’s small floor plan and the five flights of stairs you had to climb to reach it were justified by the view from the living room: over red tiled rooftops hovered the airy bell tower of an old church, and, hiding between buildings and trees, one snowy peak of the Alps.
The pho
