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“Ginny.” I sit up in the bed and look at her. “How did you get in?”

“You told the concierge I was coming. And besides, I saw your maid leaving and she told me you were sleeping the day away.” She looks over my weakened body. “You look terrible.”

I try to smirk, but it comes out more like a grimace. “God, you’re always obnoxiously beautiful.”

She crosses the room quickly, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor. As she reaches the bed, her hand presses against my forehead. “You’re burning up. How long have you been like this?”

“A day, maybe two?” I mumble, closing my eyes against a fresh wave of nausea. “Emily has been taking care of me. She brings me tea and soup and makes sure I take some medicine.”

She is a literal godsend.

Ginny’s lips press into a thin line. “Has Matteo been here? Does he know you’re sick?”

The mention of my husband’s name sends an unexpected flutter through my chest. “He’s… away on business. I didn’t want to bother him.”

I barely have time to react before she plops onto the edge of my bed, her signature smirk in place. “I think you need out of this bed and some fresh air. What do you say?”

I let out a groggy sigh, rubbing at my temple. “The thought of leaving my bed does not sound the slightest bit appealing.”

She waves a dismissive hand. “You need some fresh air, some girl time—something other than being cooped up in this sky castle.”

I hesitate, shifting against the pillows. The thought of stepping outside doesn’t tempt me, but Ginny has been nothing but kind. Ever since the gala, she has checked in every now and then.

I do need to get out.

I sigh, finally pushing myself up. “Fine. But if I pass out in the middle of lunch, it’s on you.”

Ginny grins. “Deal. Now, get dressed.”

By the time we’re seated at a cozy café in the city, I realize just how much I did need this. The sound of people chatting around us, the clinking of silverware, the scent of freshly baked bread—it’s a stark contrast to the suffocating quiet of the house.

Still, as I stir my drink absentmindedly, I can’t shake the unease resting at the back of my mind. Ginny, ever perceptive, tilts her head. “You’ve been fidgeting since we sat down. Spill.”

I let out a slow breath, tapping my fingers against the rim of my glass. “It’s Matteo.”

Ginny raises an eyebrow. “Shocker.”

I feel a flush creep up my neck, averting my eyes from Ginny’s knowing gaze. “It’s just… things have been different lately. Not bad different, just… I don’t know.”

Ginny leans forward, her voice lowering. “Different how?”

I bite my lip, considering how much to reveal. “He’s been… softer, I guess? We’ve been texting while he’s away. Nothing serious, but it’s more than we have done previously.”

“Hmm,” Ginny hums, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “And how do you feel about that?”

How do I feel? Relief, certainly. A tentative hope. But there’s something else, something I’m almost afraid to name.

“I’m… confused,” I admit finally. “Part of me wants to believe this means something, that maybe he’s starting to see me as more than just an obligation. But another part of me is terrified of getting my hopes up.”

Ginny nods slowly, her eyes softening with understanding. “That’s natural, Maria. You’ve been through a lot with him. If I could tell you the shit my husband put me through.” She lets out a low laugh. “These men are hardened, shaped by a world that’s never been kind to them. It takes them time to show affection. I saw the way Matteo looked at you at the gala. He may not admit it to himself yet, but he is in love with you.”

“In love?”

My heart skips a beat at Ginny’s words. In love? The idea seems so far-fetched, yet a small part of me clings to it desperately.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” I murmur, tracing patterns on the tablecloth. “He’s just… trying, I think. It’s more than I expected.”

Ginny leans back, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Oh, honey. You’ve got it bad too, don’t you?”