REINA
The drive to my apartment was quiet in the best way. Domenico’s hand rested on my thigh—not possessive, not demanding, just warm and steady.
His thumb moved in slow, absent circles over the fabric of my shorts, like he was soothing both of us. The city lights slid across the windshield in soft gold streaks, and for once I let myself lean into the seat, let myself pretend this was normal.
That we were just a couple coming home after a long day. No guilt. No ring burning on my finger. No secrets waiting to swallow us both.
When we pulled into the short driveway of my apartment building, the one I’d quietly turned into my sanctuary, Domenico cut the engine and let the silence settle between us.
He stared at the front door for a long moment, thumb still tracing lazy patterns on my
