being grateful to Sasha for her help, you decided to do the same as Niccolo did and stayed with her family.

her father accepted you as his own daughter, the days passed quietly, but the memories weighed heavily on the whole family.

Niccolo was caring, treated the children well, cooked deliciously and just continued to keep his hands up.

It wasn't fair. why did a man like him have to stay a nobody's man just because she died?

you knew it was selfish and mean of you to think about it, but you couldn't stop. would Sasha forgive you for that? What would Niccolo think if he found out? the questions were never answered.

the more time passed, the more obvious your feelings became.

the way his hands moved gracefully when he cooked food, as if he was born specifically for this, the way he smiled when the whole family praised the food he cooked, while your heart fluttered at the sight of his smile.

leftovers were cooling on the large table after a family dinner. you were sitting on a chair looking at Niccolo's back, who was putting the plates in their places, having already refused your help.

"Niccolo," you say softly. "thanks for dinner, it was delicious."

he turns his head. "are you sure? you've been picking at your plate with a fork for a long time."

"the food was hot."

"but by that time, the meat had already stopped steaming."

you tensed up because of his powers of observation, but you just couldn't tell him why you couldn't get a bite down your throat.

"it's just that you cooked the meat so well that I wanted to prolong the pleasure."

his expression softens. "really? you're the second person to say something like that to me with that expression on your face."

you wish you could smile back, but you didn't have to think to figure out who he meant. maybe someday you'll have the courage to step over your doubts.