ITALY
What was it about this man I couldn’t seem to leave alone?
One minute, I was going about my life, minding my business, and the next, I was smiling at my phone like a fool, staying on calls for hours, talking to him about everything and nothing at all. The time difference between us should have made things harder, should have made it impossible for whatever this was to last. Yet, sometimes, it was like the distance didn’t even exist. Ronan was always there, even when he wasn’t physically here.
I sighed, rinsing the last plate in the sink before placing it onthe drying rack. My hands were slightly pruney from the soapy water, and the scent of lemon dish soap lingered as I dried them off. With the house now clean, I had enough time to get ready for work. My mom was at work, working as hard as she always did, and I had mine to get to.
It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t even remotely good, but it was my only option for now.
I worked atViviModa, a small retail store in town that barely paid above minimum wage. The hours were long, the conditions were terrible, and the managers acted like we should be grateful to even have jobs. We were overworked, underpaid, and easily replaceable in their eyes. But I needed the money. I was almost at my goal—almost at the amount I needed to apply for fashion school. That dream was what kept me going.
After slipping into my work uniform—a plain black T-shirt with the store’s logo and a pair of dark jeans—I grabbed my bag and headed out. The streets of Tuscany were as beautiful as ever, but today, I was too tired to appreciate them.
By the time I got to work, exhaustion was already creeping into my bones. But as I stepped inside, something felt... off.
One of my coworkers, Alessia, stood near the counter, looking at me with wide eyes. “Nina,” she said hesitantly.
I blinked. “What?”
“You’re not on the schedule today.”
I frowned. “Huh?”
“Someone’s covering your shift.”
“What do you mean? Wh—”
Before I could finish my sentence, she shrugged and went back to folding shirts, brushing it off like it didn’t matter.
Frustrated, I turned to leave, but then another coworker, Gio, stopped me by the door. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “We’re under new management,” he muttered.
I narrowed my eyes. “What?”
“The Romano family bought us out,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
My stomach clenched.Romano.
Ronan’s last name was Romano.
I didn’t say anything. My thoughts were racing too fast, too wild to grasp onto one.
I stepped outside, inhaling sharply, trying to make sense of it all, but then—
The hairs on the back of my neck rose.
I felt him before I saw him.
Slowly, I turned around, and my eyes met a familiar pair of light ones.
Ronan.
He shouldn’t have been here. He was supposed to be taking hisUSMLE Step 1today. In New York.
But here he was. In Tuscany.
He started walking toward me, his expression unreadable.
I didn’t move. I didn’t say a word.
