I wiped my tears with my t-shirt after I'd pulled into the garage that evening.
Taking a few deep breaths, I composed myself outside in thebreezeway before I opened the door to go inside.
As soon as I walked in, I was immediately overwhelmed by thesmell of something delicious.
I walked into the kitchen to see Luca standing over the stove, stirring something in a pot.
"Are you making... actual food?" I asked, eyes wide.
He laughed at this.
"This is a recipe my mom used to make for us; reserved only for special occasions. Her grandmother, who was from Sorrento,
used to make it for her!"
He looked down anxiously at whatever was simmering in the pot.
"I feel like I've probably f****d it up.," he admitted, laughing.
"It smells amazing," I said assuringly.
"It should be almost done. I
