Chapter Sixty-One
Six Months Later
Daphne
T he front door clicks softly behind me as I step into the cool, airy entrance of the villa, and my shoulders sag with relief.
The day has been long - three interviews, two press conferences and one hastily written analysis piece after Roma's narrow win against Napoli last night.
Now, with the season back in full swing, football news is relentless.
Transfer rumours, injury updates, tactical breakdowns... and somehow, it all lands on my desk.
I'm exhausted, but I love it.
I slip off my heels and walk barefoot across the polished marble floor towards the kitchen, following the delicious scent of garlic and rosemary.
I miss the lazy summer afternoons we spent together during the off-season - lounging by the pool, taking impromptu drives to the coast and sneaking into his bed for midday naps when the heat made everything else feel impossible - but being busy feels good too.
"Is that you, mi amore ?" Matteo calls from the kitchen .
His voice, rich and familiar, warms me more than the lingering September sunshine outside.
"Yeah. You cooking?"
"Ovviamente." Obviously.
He appears in the kitchen doorway, a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder.
"Big day?"
"Non-stop," I say, stepping into his open arms.
I breathe him in - soap and something citrusy - and let the tension bleed from my body.
"But at least I had an excellent interview with Costa."
"Did he tell you he only scored that goal because of my perfect assist?" Matteo teases, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
"Actually, he said you didn’t shut up all morning about that assist."
"Infatti,” Matteo laughs softly, his chest vibrating against mine. Indeed. “It was a world-class pass."
I roll my eyes and tip my head back to look at him. His skin is slightly flushed, and the faint lines around his eyes crinkle as he smiles down at me.
"You look tired," he says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
"Thanks," I deadpan.
" Bella, " he corrects, his thumb brushing across my cheek. "The good kind of tired."
"It is," I admit. "I like it. But I wouldn't say no to another lazy pool day like the ones we had in July."
"Ah, si, " he says with a fond smile. "Those days were good. "
We stand like that for a moment, swaying gently in the middle of the kitchen. The pan on the stove crackles, sending a waft of garlicky goodness into the air.
"Everything okay?" I ask softly, sensing the slight tension in his posture.
He sighs and rests his forehead against mine.
"My agent called today."
My stomach dips.
"Oh?"
"He mentioned that a team in Spain has asked about a possible loan." Matteo's jaw tightens. "It's just talk. My agent says Roma don't want to let me go, but… it’s still there. Hanging over me."
"Do you want to go?" I ask carefully.
" No. " His answer is immediate. His hands tighten at my waist. "This is my city. My team. I don’t want to go anywhere. And I hate waiting for decisions to be made about me when I have no control."
I press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
"That sounds... frustrating."
"Molto . " Very.
"Well, let me know if I need to brush up on my Spanish," I joke, trying to lighten the mood.
He huffs a soft laugh.
"You’d follow me to Spain?"
I shrug.
"I’ve already followed you around Italy’s stadiums for months. What’s another country? "
His dark eyes soften.
"I’d follow you anywhere, you know."
I smile and step out of his embrace.
"Flattery won't stop that food from burning, Rossi."
" Merda! "
He spins back to the stove, grabbing a wooden spoon and stirring the sauce with exaggerated concentration.
"Go change, bella . Dinner will be ready in five minutes."
"Yes, chef," I call as I make my way upstairs.
I peel off my work clothes as I step into the room and toss them into the laundry hamper before reaching for a pair of soft shorts and an old T-shirt from Matteo's side of the wardrobe.
His shirts have long since become my unofficial loungewear, and once I’m changed, I feel as though I can breathe a little easier.
As I pull the shirt over my head, my phone buzzes from where I’d placed it on the bedside table.
I grab it and glance at the screen.
1 new email: From Harper a nod to my grandmother’s maiden name.
Thank you for submitting your manuscript, The Dagger and the Dove . We were thoroughly impressed with the strength of your storytelling and the compelling nature of your world-building.
We would love to set up a virtual meeting to discuss potential next steps for publication.
Please let us know your availability in the coming weeks.
I clap a hand over my mouth to muffle the squeal that escapes me.
I stare at the email again, rereading the words three times just to make sure I haven’t imagined it.
After months of writing late into the night after long days of work -
After years of daydreaming about becoming a published author -
After finishing the draft this summer while Matteo lay beside me reading tactical reports on his iPad -
This is actually happening.
They want to talk to me.
I take a deep breath, then sprint downstairs.
*
Matteo is plating up two bowls of pasta when I skid into the kitchen, practically vibrating with excitement.
"Careful, amore, " he drawls, glancing up with a smile. "If you break an ankle running in here, I’ll have to carry you around for weeks."
"Matteo," I breathe, clutching my phone like it's a winning lottery ticket. "I just… I just got an email from Harper & Miller Publishing."
He sets the bowl down and straightens, eyes sharpening.
" The Harper & Miller?"
"Yes." I bite my lip, the words bubbling out of me. "They said they were impressed with my manuscript, and they want a meeting. A meeting about - wait -”
I open up my phone and re-read the words again.
“About potential next steps for publication ."
His face goes slack with shock, and then he whoops, sweeping me into his arms and spinning me around so abruptly that I nearly drop my phone.
" Cazzo , bella! That's amazing! Incredible!” he laughs into my hair. “My girlfriend is going to be a published author!"
"Not officially," I say, breathless with laughter. "It’s just a meeting."
" Just a meeting ?" He sets me down and grips my shoulders. "This is huge . You finished the book, you sent it out, and now they want you. I'm so proud of you."
Emotion swells in my throat as I smile widely at him.
"You really think it's a big deal?"
" Amore, I’ve always known you were going to make it. And now it’s happening." He grins. "Didn’t I tell you? You're unstoppable ."
I laugh and hug him tightly, feeling the warmth of his pride wrap around me.
*
Later, after dinner, we sit on the couch together. Matteo’s arm is draped across my shoulders, and I scroll through the email again for the tenth time.
"It feels surreal," I whisper .
He kisses the top of my head. "Good surreal?"
"The best."
Outside, cicadas hum softly in the warm night air. The windows are open, letting in the scent of fresh flowers from his expansive gardens.
"You know," Matteo says softly, "I was right about you."
"Oh yeah?" I nudge his ribs with my elbow. "What exactly were you right about?"
" Everything ." His hand tightens on my shoulder. "I told you to stop overthinking. To live in the moment. And look what happened."
I smile, leaning my head against his chest.
He was right.
Six months ago, I'd been convinced my time in Rome was temporary. That I'd go home to London, settle back into the dull rhythm of my old life, and leave all of this behind.
But then I let myself live in the moment.
And now here I am - living in one of the world’s most beautiful cities, doing a job I love, writing a book I’m proud of, and coming home every night to this beautiful house and the man who makes me laugh until my sides hurt and love until my heart aches.
All because I stopped overthinking and just let go.
I sigh contentedly as Matteo strokes his fingers through my hair.
"I'm very wise, bella . You should listen to me more often."
"Yes. Well. Thanks for making me listen.”
I lift my head and kiss him slowly .
"Although you're still an arrogant ass sometimes," I whisper against his lips.
"And yet," he murmurs back, smiling, " here you are. "
I am.
And I’m so, so glad.
Because what was supposed to be a fleeting assignment - a temporary trip to a foreign city and a short-lived fling with a man I was convinced I couldn’t stand - turned into something so much more.
A life. A love. A future.
And as I curl up against Matteo’s chest, his steady heartbeat beneath my cheek, I smile to myself.
My Italian love affair didn’t have an expiry date after all.