And I didn't see Dante.
I didn't see Sienna either.
Part of me was relieved. The other part, the small, pathetic part I tried to smother, felt something else. Disappointment? No. That couldn't be right.
Why would I want to see them?
I finished the maintenance work, packed up my equipment, and left without looking back.
——————
The days blurred together after that.
I worked. Stayed home. Slept. Repeat.
Thursday came, and with it, my weekly obligation, cooking for Liora at the villa.
Nonna had suggested it months ago, back when she still believed this marriage could be saved. "A mother should cook for her child," she'd said, her old hands clasped around mine. "It's how we show love when words fail us."
I didn't have the heart to tell her that my love had never failed. It was Liora w
