Three weeks after Tony's arrest, I moved back into Dante's apartment.
Not because everything was fixed. Not because I'd forgiven him completely. But because I missed him. Missed waking up next to him. Missed the simple comfort of being in the same space.
"Are you sure?" he asked when I showed up with my bags. "We can take this slower if you need."
"I don't want slower. I want us to try. Really try."
He helped me unpack. We didn't talk much. Just moved around each other carefully. Like we were learning how to be together again.
That night, we lay in bed not touching. A foot of space between us that felt enormous.
"I don't know how to do this," I said quietly. "How to be with you knowing what I know."
"Neither do I. But I want to figure it out."
"What if we can't? What if the past is
