Chapter 78. Almost Stayed

Margherita woke to the pale hush of morning. Light seeped through the curtains, soft and hesitant.

The bed beside her suddenly felt too big, too empty. For a moment, she lay still, listening—the faint hum of the city outside, the steady rhythm of rain tapering off.

Then she sat up, rubbing her eyes and looking around.

Right. Ezio’s apartment. He took her here last night.

She slid out of the bed and walked outside. The faint aroma of coffee and the sizzling sound of the frying pan met her as she entered the kitchen.

Ezio stood by the stove, his sleeves rolled up, too focused on cooking.

Something in the sight—his steady posture, the faint morning light catching on his wristwatch—made her chest tighten. She smiled despite herself and crossed the room, slipping her arms around his waist from behind.

He chuckled, low in his chest. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he murmured. “If I didn’t know it was you, you’d be counting stars on the ceilin