Tuesday, June 6, 2023Isabella's Apartment, Florence9:14 AM
He was in the kitchen making coffee when the message came through, and his phone was face-up on the counter because Isabella had asked him to stop leaving it face-down everywhere like he was hiding something.
The notification was from Sophia.
I have the yacht for the week in Monaco. Want to come? No pressure. Just... time away from everything.
He read it twice.
He hadn't heard from her since the thank you text two weeks ago, and she hadn't replied to that either, and the silence since had been the kind that could mean anything depending on which direction you read it from, and the message on his screen now was the kind you didn't send unless you'd thought about it properly first.
He poured his coffee and stood at the kitchen window and looked out at the Settignano rooftops for a while.
Then he typed back: Which day should I come?
Her reply arrived in under a minute. Wednesday. I'll send the port details.
