Chapter Thirty
RONAN
Six Years Earlier
NEW YORK CITY/ITALY
The distance was getting to me.
Her being in Italy. Me being stuck in New York. It was frustrating as hell. And what made it worse? Sharing a space with my best friends. Normally, I didn’t mind. We had enough space to avoid each other when we wanted to, but lately, it felt small. Claustrophobic even.
I’d just walked out of my Advanced Clinical Anatomy exam. It was easy, maybe because I was a nerd, or because studying was the only thing that kept me from thinking about her. But none of that mattered now.
This week was important to her. She was presenting her portfolio, the one she’d spent months perfecting, for a workshop that could possibly help her get into fashion school.
I should be there. I needed to be there.
Across the room, Alex sat scrolling through his phone, trying and failing to look uninterested. His fingers twitched like he was waiting for a message.
“How long are we gonna pretend we don’t know Alex is sneaking around with Dillon’s sister?” I said, stretching out on the couch.
Dillon’s head snapped up so fast I thought he’d get whiplash. “Wait. What?”
Arnoldo choked on his beer, while Lucio, ever the composed one, only looked at Alex with mild interest.
Alex scoffed. “Mind your business.”
Dillon pointed at him. “Oh, it is my business. That’s my sister.”
“And?” Alex raised a brow. “I’m not sneaking around. She’s my friend. Relax.”
“A friend you kiss from time to time?” I asked.
“Fuck off, Ronan,” Alex aggressively said.
Dillon groaned, rubbing his temples. “What is happening right now?”
I smirked, shaking my head. “My brother’s married. Alex is sneaking around. Arnoldo is whoring around. You’re well… you. I’m over here losing my mind because my girl is in another country.”
Lucio shut his laptop and leaned back. “So go see her, fratello.”
Arnoldo nodded. “Yeah, you’re miserable. Do us all a favor and book the damn flight.”
I sighed, rubbing a hand down my face. “It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?” Dillon asked. “You’ve got a jet and money at your disposal. You literally have no excuse.”
“You’re right.”
I pulled out my phone and called my family pilot.
“Get the jet ready,” I told the pilot. “I’m going to Italy.”
The moment I landed, I didn’t waste any time.
I had barely thrown my bag into the car before I was telling the driver to step on it. My knee bounced the entire ride. What if I was too late? What if she’d already gone?
But then I saw her.
She was standing near the entrance of the hall, a sketchbook in one hand, her other adjusting the pins on her apron.
Her hair was tied up in the loose way she always did when she was focused, dark brown curls falling over her face.
Her deep brown eyes, the ones I swore held galaxies, sparkled under the soft evening lights.
She was beautiful.
Out of this world beautiful.
Not only because of her looks—though, God, she was breathtaking—but because of everything she was. Passionate. Determined. Brilliant. The kind of woman who could bring me to my knees without even trying.
The second she saw me, her eyes widened. “Ronan?”
I barely had time to react before she was running toward me.
I caught her easily, arms locking around her waist, breathing her in.
God, I’d missed this. I missed her.
“Did I miss it?” I asked, voice low against her ear.
She pulled back enough to look at me. “Miss what?”
“Your portfolio presentation,” I said.
Her lips parted. “You—you came for that?”
“Of course, I did,” I murmured. “It’s important to you.”
She blinked at me, like she was still processing that I was here. That I’d come just for this. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she grabbed my hand, pulling me inside.
“It’s almost my turn with the rep,” she said, excitement lacing her voice.
“Perfect.”
I sat down, watching, listening, absorbing every detail.
I knew she’d be too focused to take notes, so I did it for her. Every comment. Every critique. Every compliment. I wrote it all down. When I remembered she liked her notes color-coded, I dug through her bag for the set of pens I knew she carried and started marking everything the way she liked.
All while watching her.
Her fingers were expertly pinning fabric, her brows furrowed in concentration, the way her lips pressed together when she was thinking. She was art. Every movement, every expression—perfection.
By the time the workshop ended, I had barely moved from my seat.
She turned to me, a tired but happy smile on her face. “Hey.”
“Amore mia,” I murmured.
She sighed, stepping closer. “I’m sorry it took so long. I know you have an ex—”
I didn’t let her finish.
I silenced her with a kiss.
“Ronan.”
I loved the way she said my name. But this time, there was a familiar edge to her voice—the one she used when she was about to lecture me.
“Ronan Romano,” she said, arms crossing as she fixed me with a pointed look. “You need to study. This is important.”
I fought back a grin. “I did the exam today.”
She blinked, caught off guard. “You did?”
“Yeah. Advanced Clinical Anatomy. Medical school is fine, amore.”
Her expression softened, curiosity replacing her scolding tone. “How was it?”
I shrugged. “Easy.”
She raised a brow. “That sounds like possibly the hardest thing ever.”
I smirked. “You have a smart boyfriend, tesoro.”
She laughed, and God, I missed that sound. The warmth of it, the way it made my chest feel lighter. But I wasn’t done yet.
“Here,” I said, reaching into my bag and handing her the notebook.
She frowned, opening it. Her eyes scanned the pages, and then her breath hitched. “Oh my gosh, it’s color-coded!”
I leaned against the table, watching her reaction. “I couldn’t afford for you to freak out.”
She lifted her head, eyes shining. “You are the best boyfriend ever. The most attentive man ever.” Her fingers traced the edge of the notebook. “E ti amo.”
My throat tightened, warmth spreading through my chest. “Ti amo.”
She studied me for a second before tilting her head. “Do you want to stay over at my house?”
I raised a brow. “Do you want your mother to murder me?”
She rolled her eyes. “She won’t.”
I wasn’t entirely convinced, but if she said so. “Alright then.”
Her smile was victorious, but then it faltered slightly. “When do you go back?”
“Unfortunately, tomorrow night. I have an exam on Friday.”
Her lips pressed together, disappointment flashing in her eyes. But instead of complaining, she reached for my hand, squeezing it gently. “Thank you for coming in the first place,” she whispered. “I know it’s not easy to be traveling back and forth with exams and medical school and… everything.”
I lifted our joined hands and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “For you?” I murmured. “I’d do it a hundred times over.”