It Began In Italy | ✔️

Chapter Twenty Four

When it finally comes around to ordering, Nico asks for a bottle of wine and two glasses before we order entrées and mains. I decide on a classic bruschetta to begin with and a simple carbonara. Nico also orders a pasta dish except his is more tomato based rather than cheese.

The wine rolls around and the waiter pours out a glass each for us both. Thanking him, we both take a sip. "How is your family?" Nico asks and I internally cringe at the question.

"They're good... It's a bit rocky between my mother and me at the moment, but it's always been like that with us. We tried to move past things, but it ultimately just made everything worse," I explain, and Nico nods his head.

"I take it she is still a firm believer that inviting that dick over here and lying about you still being into him was the right call to make?" he asks but I shake my head.

"She's admitted that she overstepped, and she never should've gotten involved - which was a surprise. But she also said things about me not knowing the entire story?" I furrow my brows.

"And what's the entire story?" Nico asks, obviously as intrigued as I am.

"I haven't a clue. I didn't have time to demand answers for her vagueness and it is constantly playing in the back of my mind. I don't understand what kind of story would compel her to mess with my personal life so drastically. That she'd get in contact with my ex and ask him to fly to another country," I say, and Nico becomes pensive.

"It obviously must be important if she's willing to go to such measures," Nico states and I nod, still deep in thought.

The conversation halts when the entrées are served. My bruschetta looks beyond delicious. Nico takes a bite of his Sicilian salad and he closes his eyes in delight. Taking a bite out of the crunchy bread and the cold tomatoes, I conclude that I will never find anything better than Italian cuisine. It is simply better than any other food out there.

"Thank you for everything... I don't thank you enough for all that you have done for me. If I hadn't gone to your restaurant that night and met you, I'm afraid I would no longer be sane," I laugh and Nico smiles.

"A lot of people have come and gone on this island, whether they've been here for days, weeks or months. But none have been as radiant as you. I've never wanted to share my home with anyone as much as I do with you," he says, his hand folding over mine.

I can't help my smile and that aching in my chest, that feeling of... "I do not deserve you," I shake my head and Nico scoffs.

"That's because you deserve more than I can give you," he says, and I hold his hand tighter. His thumb rubs idle circles on my palm and just his touch is enough to send me into a spiral.

"All I want is you and that is more than enough," I admit, and his eyes darken. Nico lifts my hand and presses a kiss on top of it.

"Let's get out of here," he says, and something stirs in my stomach.

"And go where?" I ask and Nico smiles.

"A surprise," he says and gets up, placing some euros down on the table before he drags me towards the exit. Nico sets off down the stairs and I squeal, trying to stop myself from falling.

"Nico, slow down!" I laugh and he joins me. Before I can say another word, I'm pulled aside. My back pressed flush against the wall, those blue eyes staring into mine. Nico is breathing heavily and I find myself breathing just as raggedly.

"I have another Italian word for you, well words..." Nico trails off and I furrow my brows. "Mi sto innamorando di te," he says and kisses the tip of my nose.