34 #2
There were still things between us that could make any conversation painful. That night, they didn’t disappear. They just didn’t have to take up every seat.
After dessert, we went out for a short walk down the street. The air was cool. I put on my jacket and took the hand Dante offered.
I did so while looking at him.
His fingers closed around mine, and we walked slowly toward a lit-up storefront. There were ceramic objects—some beautiful, others strange in a way that made us stop. Dante pointed to a vase that looked like a sulky pear.
“Would you put that in your house?” I asked.
“If I’d done something to offend the house, maybe.”
I laughed so loudly that a passerby looked at us.
Dante kept watching me after I started breathing normally again.
“What?”
He shook his head.
“I like hearing you laugh.”
The line could have sounded rehearsed. It didn’t, maybe because he was still smiling at the bad joke he’d just made.
I leaned in and kissed him.
It was a brief kiss, on the sidewalk, with people passing by and a ceramics storefront behind us. His hand found my waist, and I felt the urge to make it last longer before pulling away.
I wasn’t ready to end the night.
We went back to the restaurant to get the car. On the way, I checked a message from Marina. Bento had fallen asleep. She was on the couch, editing a section of her work, and let me know she wouldn’t wait up for me.
I stopped near the entrance.
“I said I’d be home tonight,” I said.
Dante listened intently, without letting go of my hand.
“Do you want me to drive you home?”
I looked at him.
“I want to spend the rest of the night with you. I just need to sort something out with my sister first.”
He nodded and waited by my side while I texted.
I texted to ask if Marina could stay until early the next morning. She was already sleeping at the apartment, but she had plans in the morning and needed to leave at nine. I arranged to be back before eight, kept my phone close, and got a short reply: go ahead, everything was fine.
Only then did I put my phone away.
“We can go,” I said to Dante.
He moved closer.
“Where do you want to go?”
“To your place.”
I saw a smile begin to form on his face. My hand squeezed his.
He kissed my fingers before leading me to the car.
***
The elevator was the same. The apartment felt different when I entered.
I’d been there before, but some things had been moved. There was a different lamp near the couch, fewer objects on the table, a stack of books I didn’t remember seeing. It was the home of someone who’d lived there for years without me.
Dante left the keys on the sideboard.
“Want some water?”
“Yes, please.”
I stood by the window while he went to get it. I saw my reflection in the glass—the dark dress and my hair slightly tousled by the wind. For a moment, I was afraid I was trying to slip into an old life in a body that was no longer the same.
When Dante handed me the glass, I spoke before I lost my nerve.
“I don’t want to pretend these years never happened.”
He looked at me.
“Neither do I.”
I took a sip of water and set the glass down.
“But I want to be here.”
His hand touched my face. I turned my head slightly, resting my skin against his palm, and saw his eyes close for a second.
Then I kissed him.
There was none of the bakery’s urgency, none of the brevity of the sidewalk kiss. We had time to learn the pauses between kisses, to laugh when my purse caught on my jacket, to set it aside and come close again.
I held the back of Dante’s neck, feeling his short hair beneath my fingers. He hugged me, and the familiarity of that body pressed against mine stirred an emotion that almost made me pull away.
Almost.
I grabbed his shirt before the distance between us grew.
“Stay with me,” he said softly.
“I’m here.”
My reply seemed to reach him somewhere deeper than desire. Dante pressed his forehead against mine, took a breath, and waited for me to pull him close again.
I walked with him to the bedroom, hand in hand.
Dante turned off the living room light as we passed through. In the bedroom, I was still holding his hand.
***
I woke up before the alarm went off.
For a few seconds, I didn’t recognize the light or the pillow. Then I felt Dante’s hand on my waist, and I remembered.
I lay still.
He slept on his side, his face more relaxed than I usually saw it. A small crease from the pillow marked his cheek. I traced it with my fingertip before I could think better of it.
Dante slowly opened his eyes.
When he recognized me, he smiled.
My chest warmed in a way that left me defenseless for a moment.
“Good morning,” I said.
“Good morning.”
His hand moved a little, and I leaned closer to kiss him. A morning kiss, with too little hurry to hide anything. When it ended, I stayed close.
“What time is it?” I asked.
He glanced at his watch.
We still had time for a cup of coffee before I had to go back.
I got up to get dressed. I needed to be there before eight, and my jacket was somewhere in the living room.
Dante asked me how I was doing.
I thought about my answer while looking for my jacket.
“Fine. A little scared. But fine.”
“Me too,” he replied, taking my hand for a moment.
In the kitchen, we made coffee together. I found the cups in a different cabinet and complained about the change. He said he’d accept a review of his organization as long as it didn’t involve the vase from the shop window.
I laughed.
We ate toast standing up because we’d both spent longer in the bedroom than we’d expected. Then Dante drove me home.
In the car, my hand rested on his for a few minutes while we waited at a light. I remembered our argument about the series and began laughing to myself. When he asked why, I told him he was still wrong about the ending.
I arrived before eight.
Marina opened the door with her hair tied back and a mug in her hand. She looked at me, then down the hallway, where Dante was saying goodbye.
She didn’t say anything until I went inside.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
I nodded.
She smiled and went to gather her things, leaving me to go to Bento’s room alone.
My son was still asleep, wrapped in his blanket. I knelt beside the bed and kissed his hair.
I was back.
And there was a part of me that seemed to be coming back, too.