Chapter 45. The Talk About Children

The evening settled around them like a soft, familiar shawl, folding the terrace into quiet warmth after their leisurely dinner on the wide, wrought-iron balcony. The sun had slipped below the horizon, leaving the sky awash in honeyed gold at the edges, deepening into violet where the hills rolled into shadow. A gentle breeze wandered through the olive groves below, carrying the faint tang of crushed leaves and the distant hum of insects waking to dusk.

Their meal—roasted vegetables still whispering steam, nutty farro glistening with olive oil, tangy goat cheese, and sun-warmed apricots—had been savored slowly, each bite a small ritual of taste and texture. Alyssa had tipped a plump apricot to her lips, its flesh yielding in a sweet, sticky torrent down her wrist. She had paused, tongue flicking out to catch the golden rivulet, and Max—seated across from her—had watched that private gesture with a soft, secret smile curving his lips. She never noticed how the candlelight dance