Chiara
He smiled slightly, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Then he threw me wipes to clean the coffee stains. “You heard me, Chiara. When?”
“I— we’re not… Domenico and I love each other. There’s no pretense. What makes you think we’d pretend about something like this?” I rushed my words, my eyes wide.
“I know the marriage wasn’t really what we wanted. It was abrupt and, yeah, initially we didn’t get along, but then…” I sighed dramatically. “We fell in love—I don’t know how it happened, but we did.” I lied.
He hummed, shaking his head.
“I know it sounds like I’m lying, considering the type of person Domenico is, but I’m being truthful.”
He took a long sip of his tea, then chuckled. “Lies. Both of you are clearly far from being in love. I know Domenico more than I know my own kids,
