“It has,” Aya spoke up, “but any news to share?” She asked, changing the subject.
Shifting to a lighter tone, I mentioned, “I spoke to my mom today,” unable to keep the excitement from my voice. “I’m sending her on a European tour to enjoy life for a little bit.”
Ale’s eyes lit up. “That’s amazing! She’s going to love it.”
Inaya nodded in agreement. “She’s always been there for you. It’s wonderful you can do this for her now.”
My mom had sacrificed so much for me, always putting my needs before her own. Finally, being able to give back to her was my achievement.
Ale stepped away to take a call from his father, and Inaya scooted closer, a mischievous glint in her eye. “You know, he likes you, right?”
I laughed, shaking my head. “We’re friends.”
Inaya rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, please. It’s so obvious. The way he looks at you, it’s like he’s completely smitten.”
“Evenifthat’s true,” I said, trying to keep my tone light but firm, “heknowswe’re only friends. I’m not doing the whole love thing again. It’s too messy, too complicated.”
Inaya’s expression softened, and she reached across the table to squeeze my hand. “You can’t let your past define your future, Nina. Not every guy is going to hurt you.”
Her words hit a nerve, and I felt a familiar pang in my chest as I thought about Ronan. He was the only guy I’d ever truly loved and the only one I thought I’d ever be able to love, and I couldn’t see myself getting into anything new if it was with him. It was stupid; I knew, and I hated him, yes, but that was the only thought I’d had for the past five years.
“I know.” I sighed, my gaze dropping to my glass of wine. “But I’m not ready to open that door again.”
She studied me for a moment, her eyes filled with empathy. “Take your time. But don’t close yourself off completely. You deserve happiness, too.”
I smiled weakly, appreciating her concern. “I’ll be fine. I survived five years, haven’t I?”
“Yes,” she said, “But have you lived?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but couldn’t find the words.
She was right.
Ale returned, his smile as bright as ever, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics. But Inaya’s words stayed with me, planting doubt in my mind. Despite my efforts to deny it, I wondered if I was closing myself off because of Ronan, or because, deep down, I still harbored feelings for him.
Chapter Sixteen
NINA
Present Day
ITALY
It’s funny how you can feel everything all at once and nothing at all. I could still hear the echoes of another long day at the boutique: meetings, interviews, photoshoots, and that never-ending Italian version of theVogueinterview. My brain was so fried from switching back and forth between English and Italian that most of it felt like a blur. On top of that, I had to finish a last-minute wedding dress sketch and a bridesmaid dress design, and by the time I set my pencil down, I was this close to collapsing.
So, imagine my surprise when I saw the box by the door. Itwasn’t the usual delivery. No note, no tracking number, only the box. My heart did something weird in my chest, and I glanced around like I was expecting someone to jump out at me. No one. I let out a sigh, picked it up, and dragged myself inside.
As soon as I got in, I replayed the footage from the doorbell camera. The only thing it caught was a man in a delivery uniform dropping the box and walking away, no fanfare, no message. I bit my lip, unsure of what to make of it. The last thing I needed was another surprise, but I found myself sitting down on the couch, my tired body sinking into the cushions as I stared at the box. It felt heavier than it should’ve been. Almost like it was filled with memories I wasn’t sure I wanted to unpack.
I opened it, and there it was. A pink sweater. I pulled it out, and my heart skipped when I saw my name embroidered on it. Underneath, in smaller stitching, was a quote:“Non è un sogno se ci svegliamo insieme.”
I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped me.“It’s not a dream if we wake up together.”Our inside joke. The one we whispered to each other the first night my mother let me sleep over his house. It felt so real, sous.
Everything I’d buried resurfaced, leaving me torn between the past and the present.
Then, I noticed the envelope tucked under the sweater. It was handwritten.
The familiar loops and swirls of his handwriting sent a jolt through my chest.
