Giovanni's eyes were glued to the stove, watching the pot of water bubble and boil as steam rose up in wispy tendrils. His foot tapped restlessly on the tiled kitchen floor as his gaze flickered between the pot and the front door, willing his love to walk through it any moment. It had been hours since they left for work that morning with barely a word between them after their argument the night before. Giovanni couldn't even remember what started it now - something petty he was sure - but the lingering tension sat like a weight in his chest.

He had tried to make up for it this morning by getting up early and preparing their favorite breakfast spread - eggs, bacon, toast, and freshly squeezed orange juice. But his love had simply gulped down their coffee and left with a quick peck on the cheek, their eyes not quite meeting his. So now Giovanni waited, ready to sweep them up in a big hug and heartfelt apology the moment they returned. He just hoped it wouldn't be too late.

The water was nearly ready for the pasta - their favorite meal he had also prepared for dinner to soften them up. But as the minutes ticked by, doubt started to creep in. What if they were still too upset? What if the long day apart made them realize just how petty their fight was and they came home ready to make up? Giovanni sighed and turned away from the stove, scrubbing the already spotless kitchen counters for the dozenth time as he muttered to himself, trying to quell his restless nerves.