Page 111 of Alessio

Alessio loved Ginevra.

He might not say it.

He didn’t have to.

Not when he showed it.

As for her …

Corrado didn’t have to wonder if Ginevra loved them. She did. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be still doing this with them at all. He had thrown her in this mess between him and Alessio, but she didn’t have to continue to indulge it.

And yet, she did.

She wanted to.

More than anyone else ever had—including the two of them—she helped them. Probably more than she would ever know.

In the bathroom, Alessio set Ginevra down on the toilet with a raised brow when her cheeks pinked. “I don’t have to p—”

“Yes, you do. UTIs are a bitch.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Ginevra sighed when Alessio left her to come stand next to Corrado as he leaned over the claw tub and turned the levers on the rose-gold tap to start the water running. They worked together at the tub, keeping their backs turned to Ginevra while she did her business, and the running water masked their quiet conversation.

“You should tell her,” Corrado murmured.

Alessio glanced his way. “Pardon?”

“That you love her, Les.”

“I—”

“You should tell her.”

“Have you?”

Corrado hesitated when he reached for the bath salts Alessio handed out to him. “No.”

Not because he hadn’t wanted to, but rather … the time never seemed right. Maybe a part of him still felt like, after all this time of him not saying those words to Alessio, it might be a betrayal, too. Didn’t he at least owe that to Les, or did it even matter anymore?

He didn’t know.

Alessio never defined the lines, either.

Corrado wasn’t sure where to go from here.

Alessio shrugged. “It’ll happen when it happens.”

Right.

Ginevra made a quiet noise, making both men straighten to their full height at the tub, their attention going to her where she stood next to the sink. Her stance was careful, and when she stepped closer to the sink, her walk was measured.

Because yeah, he didn’t doubt she was tender.

Sore.

“It’s time to relax,” Alessio told her.