And that kiss.
After five years of suppressing every memory and emotion tied to him, it all came rushing back at once. The soft brush of his lips against mine reignited a fire I had thought extinguished long ago. The taste of him, the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint aroma of peonies, created a sensory overload that left me breathless.
I didn’t know if butterflies were fluttering in my heart, belly, or my pussy. Maybe it was all three.
A reaction onlyhecould evoke in me.
In those fleeting moments, time stood still. It felt like we were back when everything was simple, and our love burned brightly. His touch awakened dormant feelings, stirring a longing I struggled to contain.
I closed my eyes, savoring the rush of emotions. Despite the years apart, Ronan had never truly left me. His imprint on my heart was indelible, his love an echo that resonated in every fiber of my being.
I melted into him, and then he said, “Lo faremo, cazzo, tesoro.”
We fucking will, baby.
Each memory, each sensation, flooded me with bittersweet intensity.
“I never fell out of love with you in the first place, tesoro.”
“I spent the past five years watching you through everyone else’s eyes because I was too fucking embarrassed to come see you.”
“I love you more and more as the days go by, Nina. You’re it for me. Fuck, you’ve always been it for me.”
I didn’t know what hurt more. The fact that he watched me from afar all this time, or the realization that he had come to Italy numerous times and couldn’t find the courage to reach outto me.
With a sigh, I let sleep claim me, my mind drifting into dreams filled with memories of Ronan and the emotions he stirred.
The night passed in a haze of conflicted feelings and memories. As morning broke, faint light filtered through the curtains, waking me. Blinking, I realized it was a new day.
I swung my legs out of bed, rubbing sleep from my eyes. Ronan’s words echoed in my mind, a haunting melody I couldn’t shake.
I woke up to a message from Inaya saying she was gone on her morning run before we headed out later. She and I had to tackle some work regarding the boutique, then I had to visit Mara.
With a deep breath, I rose from bed, feeling the cool floor beneath my feet. The morning air promised a new beginning despite the turmoil inside me.
I drew back the curtains, letting in light and taking in the view of New York City’s beautiful skyline.
Turning to the bathroom, I showered and dressed in an emerald summer dress, feeling a surge of energy. A final glance in the mirror, a stray strand of hair adjusted, and a faint smile. Ready to face the day, I gathered my things and headed for the door.
My tracks stopped when I noticed two distinctly wrapped boxes with what appeared to be purple Vicuña fabric, and I almost passed out.
What the fuck?
I grabbed the box, hurried inside, and ran my hands over it. It was exactly what I thought it was.
Vicuña fabric.
The most expensive fabric to date, which was about three thousand euros a yard. I’d only worked with this fabric once, when I made a dress for a princess’s wedding.
Holy fucking shit.
Why the hell did this feel illegal for me to touch?
The fabric aside, this level of delicacy in the wrapping had to be Ronan’s. He was the only person I knew who made sure all sides were even and free of creases. As I placed the boxes on the table, a note slipped out, and I quickly grabbed it.
Since you say I don’t speak Italian enough,
I fiori stavano diventando eccessivi. Sero che questo basti, bellissima.70
