Friday, October 21, 2022
Isabella's House, Florence
9:15 PM
Demien sat on the couch in the living room with his phone face-down on the cushion beside him, and the television played quietly in the background showing some cooking show his mother enjoyed while she moved between the kitchen and dining room cleaning up from dinner.
His stomach was still full from pasta carbonara and chicken parmigiana, and the familiar comfort of his childhood home settled around him like a blanket even as his mind drifted toward Sunday's match, and when he closed his eyes for a moment he could almost hear the roar of the Artemio Franchi crowd.
Isabella emerged from the kitchen with a dish towel in her hands, and her voice carried that particular satisfaction that came from feeding her son properly. "You want more tiramisu, tesoro? There's plenty left."
"I'm full, Mamma," Demien said while opening his eyes and smiling at her. "I can't eat another bite."
