Page 157 of My Italian Love Affair

Friday evening comes around before I know it.

I smooth my hands over my dress - a soft pastel yellow sundress that falls just above my knees - the light fabric perfect for the lingering May heat.

Paired with flat brown sandals, it’s a simple choice: effortless, but still pretty.

My auburn hair is half-up, half-down, secured with a matching yellow bow to finish off the look. Not knowing what to prepare for, I’ve kept my makeup natural - just a hint of mascara, a sweep of blush, and a soft pink tint on my lips.

I expect Matteo to take me somewhere predictable.

A restaurant, maybe, or a bar. Somewhere loud and flashy, somewhere he can be seen and I can cringe and hide.

Instead, we’re driving up winding roads, away from the city center, the sun setting in the distance.

The city sprawls beneath us as we climb higher and higher, golden light spilling over rooftops, domes and ruins. When we finally stop, I step out and inhale sharply.

The view is… breathtaking.

From up here, Rome stretches endlessly in front of me, the ancient and the modern woven together under the last streaks of daylight. The Colosseum stands proudly in the distance, the river snaking lazily through the city.

I turn to him, surprised.

“I thought you were taking me to dinner.”

He leans against his car, watching me instead of the view.

“I am.”

At my confused look, he smirks and lifts a paper bag.

“Picnic.”

I blink.

“You?”

“Si,me,” he says, mock-offended. “I’m capable of romance,darling.”

He rolls hisrand I roll my eyes, but I take a seat on the stone ledge all the same.

He swiftly joins me, pulling out a selection of food - bread, cheese, olives and prosciutto - things he must have grabbed from some smallalimentarion the way.

For a while, we just eat, watching the city settle into twilight.

It’s easy. Almost…normal.

Somewhere between bites, the conversation turns.

“My dad brought me here when I was eighteen years old,”Matteo says, staring out at the skyline. “The day I got called up for my first match with the team.”

I glance at him, surprised at the statement.

“He stood right there,” he continues, gesturing to a nearby spot. “Told me to take a good look. He said that this is my city now. That I had to make them love me - that I had to prove myself, too. Show them I was worth it.” A small chuckle. “No pressure, right?”

I smile faintly, but something in his expression makes my chest ache.

“You talk about him a lot,” I say quietly.

“Well, he gave up everything for me. Worked three jobs when I was a kid just so I could keep playing.”

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