Page 237
The sea in Calabria.
Different.
But somehow, they both make everything inside me go quiet.
“So this is what they mean when they say la dolce vita?” Lexy asks.
Chiara nods.
Lexy takes a bite of one of the pitticelli and groans. I still don’t entirely understand what Nora did to the flowers, other than dunk them in some kind of batter before frying them, along with slices of zucchini, but whatever the hell she did apparently worked.
“Oh my God, Nora. I need this recipe.”
Nora goes still for a second.
Then she takes a deep breath.
“You’ll find all my recipes in the cookbook I plan to publish.”
Silence.
Every pair of eyes at the table turns to her.
Chiara blinks away tears but doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to.
Neither does Nora.
Because Nora’s eyes are on me.
And no words are needed.
“Proud of you, Short Stuff,” I whisper.
“But I haven’t done anything yet.”
I shake my head. “You’re doing it right now.”
Her brows pull together. “Doing what?”
I look into those dark eyes and know, in the deepest part of my soul, that I’ll do whatever I can to make her dreams come true.
Even if that means watching her leave Wyoming.
Leave me.
“Living.”
Her smile takes over her whole face.
She looks around the table, then back at me before slowly picking up her glass of wine and raising it.
“To living.”
My chest tightens.
I look at Dex and Lexy because the last time we all raised our glasses together, it was to curse cancer and death for taking Damiano from us.
Dex catches my eye.
