Page 89 of That's Amore

I let out a slow breath. "Balanced. Complex. The fruit is bold, but it’s got restraint. The oak isn’t overpowering—just enough to give it warmth. And the acidity…it makes you want another sip." I smiled. "It’s perfect."

Giosuè threw his hands up with delight. “Ah, she’s a woman who understands wine.”

Dante chuckled, looking more relaxed than I’d seen him in a long time. He draped an arm over theback of my chair, his gaze lingering on me. "I told you. My wife is exceptional."

I glanced at him, warmed by his words. This wasn’t Dante playing a part or charming an investor at some high-end event. This was real. He was proud of me.

And because he was, I was as well.

We had dinner with Giosuè and his family. It was raucous, and the food was simple county fare. I loved every second of the experience, and I loved that Dante was so comfortable with it. I’d always thought he was a snob, but I realized I didn’t know him very well—and I was glad that was changing.

Late in the evening, we sat on the balcony of our hotel in Florence, a bottle of Giosuè’s Chianti Classico resting between us. The lights of the Ponte Vecchio shimmered on the Arno, their reflections swaying in the dark water like golden ribbons.

I swirled my wine absentmindedly, watching the way the light caught in the deep crimson liquid. “I had fun today.”

Dante, who had been watching me more than the view, smiled. “So did I.”

“Are we really going to be alright?” Old fears and insecurities didn’t just disappear after a trip to the Tuscan countryside. It would take time, wouldn’t it? Time to believe—not just in Dante, but in us. In myself.

He set his glass down, turning fully toward me. “Yes, we are.”

He seemed so confident, but I was far from it.

I gripped my glass tighter. “What if…what if it breaks apart?”

He didn’t even hesitate. “I won’t let it.”

A soft, disbelieving laugh escaped me. “What if I’m the one who does the breaking?”

“I won’t let you.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because we love each other, and when there’s love, everything is possible.”

I swallowed, looking away at the twinkling cityscape. The Duomo’s dome loomed in the distance, bathed in soft golden light. Florence was a city of art, history, and beauty. But maybe it was also a city of second chances.

I turned back to Dante, finding him still watching me, his expression open, waiting.

“I’ll hold you to that,” I warned him.

“I’m not going anywhere,amore.” He ran a finger across my lips. “And I’m not going to let you go anywhere either.”

“That’s a good thing,” I admitted what was in my heart, “because I don’t think I want to leave.”

THIRTY-ONE

Dante

“We’re going to Sienna?” Elysa asked in disbelief. “When are we going back to Rome?”

“It’s our honeymoon. Let’s not rush it.”

She shook her head. “I…it’s not me. It’s just you’re always busy.”

“Still busy…enjoying my wife’s company in Tuscany.”

I knew that she was still unsure, and I understood how she felt. I had been as well, until I’d figured out what was in my heart. She did know as well, but she was afraid that we wouldn’t last because everyone in her life had left her at some point. Even if it took a lifetime, I’d make sure she knew every day that I wasn’t going to be like her father or her mother. I was going to be her person for the rest of our lives.

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