Page 195 of Modern Romance January 2025 5-8

‘Susie?’ The language teacher smiled. ‘You are distracted today.’

‘Sorry...’

Susie apologised, and tried to focus on the class, but her mind was in a hundred different places, and when it was time for a break, rather than find coffee and a chat she slipped off in search of peace.

The school had a magnificent balcony and Susie stepped out—just for some air and a moment.

Gosh, she was going to start crying, she thought, trying to remind herself that a few days ago she hadn’t known him. The last time she’d attended class Dante hadn’t even factored into her life. Perhaps it was better that she fired off a message now and told him she couldn’t make it tonight.

Or maybe she’d decide after her lunchtime shift?

Then she stilled, for there on a bench he sat, staring out to the hills. She pulled back from the edge of the balcony and tried to tell herself to just go back to class.

Then she watched as he tipped his head back, as she might at the hairdresser’s. But that only described the motion he made—it didn’t explain why that movement had tears spilling down her cheeks.

She was witnessing agony.

‘How was class?’ Dante asked, letting the exhausted Susie in.

‘It was okay,’ she said.

‘Work?’

‘Long,’ she admitted, taking off her awful shoes.

He helped her with her scarf and coat.

He sounded normal, and he certainly looked beautiful—no sign of the man she’d seen sitting alone and despairing on that bench.

‘How was the jeweller’s?’ she asked.

‘It was okay,’ he told her. ‘I’m not allowed to know what he chose for Mimi, of course. I meant to call Maria...’

‘Who’s Maria?’

‘My housekeeper. I forgot to tell her I would be here tonight. I was going to ask her to get some food in. But I’ll call for something—or we can go out?’

‘Or I could make something?’ Susie said.

‘You’ve been at work.’

‘I work most days,’ Susie said, and smiled. ‘And I eat most days too.’

She liked how he laughed and kissed her, and it was heaven to be back here. Really, she’d been stupid to think she couldn’t handle it. It was just one more night, and she wanted to be here, so...

‘Anyway...’ She wriggled from his arms. ‘I’ve been dying to get into your kitchen.’ She laughed at his expression. ‘Don’t worry, Dante, I just miss cooking. There are only two little gas rings at the apartment, and a microwave and a toaster.’

‘I really don’t have any food.’

She opened up his cupboards and then peered into his fridge. ‘And you had the cheek to tell me off about your grandfather’s meagre fridge contents!’ She saw a lonely tub of ricotta and a couple of other cheeses. ‘I’ll be fine with these.’

‘You’re sure?’

She nodded. ‘There’s a recipe I’ve been dying to try,’ she told him, taking down a bag of walnuts from a cupboard. ‘You’ve got most things I need.’

‘Do you want some wine?’

‘No, thank you.’ She pulled out some flour and looked at his glass. ‘I thought you didn’t like wine?’