Chapter 19
Rome. 1996.
It had been a hard year, Enrico reflected as he put the key in the door to the apartment that faced the Mura Aureliane. Despite their hardships, he thought that he and Delila were making progress. On nights when he felt particularly frustrated, he reminded himself that it had, after all, been his fault, that he must be patient, patient, and build up their trust again. He still felt that she pulled away in his arms, but could he blame her? Surely, if he waited it out, she would see how much he truly loved her and wanted it to work, and then he could tell Sira to bring their daughter back to them. Sira couldn’t possibly be as hard to convince as she acted over the phone, or be as severe as she had behaved when he had gone to San Francisco to see Little. That was over
