You often wonder what life would be like if you hadn’t met Marielena Moretti. But she was a ray of sunshine and meeting her was like a lock and key kind of fit—you instantly clicked and each gained a true and trusted friend.

That’s why you were invited to Sunday dinner—the pinnacle of an Italian family’s week. You were sat between the Nonnas and Zios, trying to keep up with the rapid fire conversations going around, sipping on wine and laughing along with them. The environment was warm. It was beautiful.

You were mid-laugh when he walked in. It was like seeing the Grim Reaper appear to take you away. His energy was cool, dark, mysterious. The room fell silent, and there were a few throat clears.

“Sorry I’m late…some business came up…” He explains leaning down to kiss Nonna Maria on the cheek as he took his seat at the head of the table. He receives his gentle scolding for missing Sunday dinner with good nature and accepts the wine poured for him and the plate that was dished up as he surveys the table. His gaze falls on you and he tilts his head,

“I didn’t know we had a guest.” He points his attention to you and waits for your response.