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Daniele says something, and Maria laughs again—the sound light and unburdened, as though she hasn’t just lost her twin brother. Selfishly, I am happy. She deserves peace. Happiness. A future untainted by the shadows of men like me.

I remind myself of that as I turn away from the window, retreating back to the tea room’s suffocating stillness.

She’s not mine to want.

And even if she were, I’d destroy her.

The proof of that is my very dead wife, ruined by the darkness in my life, and punished for the mistake of loving a man like me.

5

MARIA

We walk out into the garden area hand in hand, not a single word uttered between the two of us from the tea room to the porch outside. The air hits my face, and I breathe in the fresh Italian air. I close my eyes for a moment, relishing in the freshness.

When I open my eyes again, I’m met with a pair of warm caramel eyes that move over my face. His gaze is far less intense than that of his father’s. I feel the heat rise to my cheeks, and I turn away.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I drop his hand and walk down the stairs. I head over to one of the lounge chairs by the pool and glance back at him still standing on the porch. He has his hands in his pockets and watches me with a cocked brow. He still has that same mischievous glint in his eyes whenever he’s up to no good in his head.

“Checking me out, Faravelli?” He chuckles and makes his way down the stairs. I haven’t been called by my last name in years. He walks up to me with a smile on his face and drops down to one knee to help me out of my shoes.

“What are you doing?” I’m surprised by how easy it is to feel so at ease with him. It’s like fourteen years haven’t passed since our last meeting. We’re back to being those ten-year-old kids who laughed and joked with each other. Except now, we’re engaged to be married.

“The weather’s too nice not to feel the water. And last I remember, you love being in the water.” He looks up at me through his lashes and smiles. He gently takes off my shoes and places them to the side. “Come on.”

He takes my hand in his and leads me to the edge of the Olympic-sized pool. The movements between us feel so natural, like we’ve been doing them all our lives. It both scares me and gives me hope for what the future holds for the two of us.

I try not to let my heart get ahead of itself. When people are in mourning and faced with despair, any shred of light becomes dangerously addictive. I can’t allow myself to latch onto it.

We settle onto the edge, our feet in the water and the calm of the Florence summer around us. The silence passes between us, but it’s not awkward.

“You look well, Maria,” he says. “When my father told me about our union, I’ll admit I was shocked. Marriage was never a topic of discussion until recently. He always said I should marry whom I choose—the way he chose my mother. But I guess times have changed.”

I guess we both have that in common.

“I’m sorry that you got stuck with me.”

He clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “Please. As far as I see it, I hit the jackpot of arranged marriages. We know each other at least, and you aren’t some airhead bimbo who can’t tell the difference between a fork and a spoon.”

I choke out a laugh. “Who have you been dating over the years, Danny?”

His nickname slips from my lips easily.

“You don’t even want to know my dating history. A lot of life lessons and character development there.” He laughs under his breath, and the sound makes me feel all warm inside. “What about you? How has your love life been?”

Heat rises to my cheeks. “Oh, well… that has been non-existent for me. I was just so busy with school and then my art, so…”

The truth is that my brother and father had me under a watchful eye. Every time a boy wanted to take me out on a date, they had to pass the Antonio test. Spoiler: very few made it ten minutes.

As a sister, I should have been annoyed, but I didn’t mind. I knew he was looking out for me, and at the time, I had no interest in men. To be honest, I still don’t—but with the turn of events, I’m glad I can at least speak with my fiancé, and he isn’t some weird old man.

“Maria Isabella Faravelli, are you telling me that you are a virgin?”

My blush deepens. “I mean… I’ve kissed a man before, if that’s what you mean?”

I am quite underdeveloped compared to the average twenty-something-year-old. While many are experimenting and clubbing, I lock myself away in my home and paint and draw to my heart’s content. I find comfort in the silence of creating. Bringing all of my thoughts and imaginations to life is something that I love to do.

“So you are a virgin.”