Page 29 of The Italian


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“Yes, the floor is sloped and has drainage.”

“It’s incredible,” I whisper.

He looks at his watch. “Come, it’s almost time.” He takes my hands and he leads me to the center of the room to stand on a marked spot.

“At 11:11 on the 21st of April every year, the moon shines through the Oculus and creates a beam of light. It is said that, in that light, you speak with the gods.”

I look up at the ceiling and then back at him. “Wait, that’s today.”

“We get to speak to the gods, Olivia.”

“What?” I whisper.

“When the moonlight shines on us, you need to say your truth.”

I stare at him. “What do you mean?”

“I go first and speak my truth to the gods. After that, you tell them yours.”

“Are you serious?”

He holds my hands in his and we stare up at the opening in the ceiling above, waiting for the moonlight.

This is the most incredible thing I’ve ever done… ever seen.

We wait and wait and wait, and then suddenly, the moonlight dances off the mirrors around the room, shining directly down on us like a magical beam.

We stare at each other.

“What’s your truth, Enrico?” I whisper.

He clenches his jaw and frowns, as if troubled by what he’s about to say. “I don’t think our story ends here.”

Tears threaten to form as I stare at him, because this is magical and perfect and how the hell is this real? Does he feel it, too?

“Now your truth, Olivia,” he whispers.

I pause. What the hell do I say?

“Hurry, bella,” he urges.

I stare at him. “I think our story is just beginning.”

In a perfect moment of clarity, hope fills me. Enrico takes me into his arms and kisses me in the light… and just as quickly as it came, it disappears as the moon moves on.

The light may have gone but the magic hasn’t left the room.

Suddenly, I need him.

I need all of him.

“Take me home,” I beg him.

He kisses me with a desperation, and I smile against his lips.

The Pantheon wins the best tourist award of all time.

Holy shit.

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