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71

Francesca

When I went down to breakfast, I was surprised to find Giulio already at the table. I assumed he would still be asleep, considering last night.

“Buongiorno,” I said, walking over to the espresso machine and finding my supply of decaf. - How are you feeling?

- Good.

I picked up my espresso and turned to face him. — You were high as fuck last night.

— It wasn't a big deal. I smoked too much in the car. — His gaze met mine and the sadness that lurked there made me stop for a moment. What had happened?

He said calmly: — Thank you for convincing him to send Paulo away instead of...

“Of course,” I said immediately, my eyebrows raising in surprise. Did Fausto tell Giulio this? — I protect you, G. Always.

There was nothing more to say, no other kind words to ease her heart. So I focused on my espresso and sat next to him, waiting.

Finally, he rubbed his reddened eyes. — I don't know if I can do that. I'm so tired of lying and pretending, of hurting. And it will only get worse. He's
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