EMMA’s POV :
- - - One Week Later - - -
“No, you didn’t make this,” Ian shook his head in disbelief.
“I swear, I made it all by myself,” I argued, pushing the plate of tortellini to his face.
It was early in the morning and we were standing in the kitchen. I woke up especially early today because Teresa promised to teach me to make tortellini. That was my favorite pasta dish, so I couldn’t possibly pass on the offer.
“Really? You had zero help?” Ian narrowed his eyes at me, studying the plate of tortellini once again.
I made such a good tortellini, dish it was hard to believe. I learned so much about cooking in two weeks in Italy than I ever did in my entire life. Ian was always nice about my cooking, but we both knew it sucked terribly. So this tortellini was a hug
