Teodoro was already at Spice and Dice when I arrived. He sat in the back corner and looked completely out of place just as he had the first time I met him here.

Honestly, I was surprised he wanted to meet—and here of all places. After repeatedly texting and calling, but receiving no response, I half expected him to block my number, move to another country, and pretend I never existed.

But there he was—sitting stiffly in the corner booth, hands clasped on the table like he wasn't sure whether he should stay or run. Typical Teo.

Handsome, stubborn, infuriating Teo.

He didn't notice me at first. His gaze was locked on the condensation sliding down his untouched glass of water, jaw tight, brow drawn like he was arguing with himself internally. Probably losing, too.

I cleared my throat.

His head snapped up instantly.

"Hi, Teo," I greeted and took a seat across from him. It was awkward and I hated awkward conversations, but I especially loathed them when it was between Teodoro and me. "I'm surprised you picked Spice and Dice out of all the places for us to meet."

"I would've told you to come to my place, but I'm having a rodent problem," he dryly replied, "and, well, we've been here before."

"You hate Spice and Dice."

"Maybe I was feeling nostalgic."

I raised an eyebrow, leaning back in my seat. "Nostalgic? That doesn't sound like you at all."

"I'm trying new things," he said, voice low. "Like admitting when I...miss someone."

My chest tightened, stupidly.

"I—uh," I started, then stopped.

"I miss you, Linus," he said honestly. There was no mask on his face for once.

"You had me scared," I admitted to him. "Not responding to your texts..."

Teodoro ran his hand through his hair. "Here's something you have to know about me: I always try to have a plan, a backup plan, and if something goes wrong then I think of a third plan. I didn't have one this time...not for us—not for Alessandro—and when I don't have a plan, I...glitch. I have to shut down and reevaluate. It's stupid, but it's who I am."

"I don't think it's stupid," I said, even though part of me wanted to crawl across the table and shake him for disappearing like that. "I do, however, reserve the right to be mildly pissed about it."

"You're always mildly pissed," Teo countered.

"Because you give me reasons," I shot back, but it came out softer than I meant. He frowned anyway.

"I'm...sorry."

I blinked at him.

Teodoro Raymond. Sorry.

Actual apology. Out loud. With witnesses.

"Can you say that again?" I asked.

"No."

"Teo."

"I apologized once. You get one."

"Then I'm framing it," I muttered, because what the hell else was I supposed to do with a moment this rare? "I'm putting it on a plaque. Maybe a commemorative mug."

A shadow of a smile broke out on his face for a second before it vanished.

"Are you still mad at me?" he asked, finally ready to get into the heavy stuff.

I shook my head slowly. "Mad? No. Frustrated? God, yes. But not mad." He seemed to relax a bit at that, so I continued, "...in hindsight, I think I was too harsh considering everything that happened—the hospital, Vincentino...I definitely didn't handle that in the best manner, so I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "You don't have to apologize to me for being upset, Linus."

"Yeah, I do. Especially when you don't know why I got so upset."

"I do."

"No, Teodoro. No you don't." He glanced at me with a confused expression on his face and I smiled softly. "All my life, I've adapted. Going between foster homes, taking on jobs to help my family...I'm used to people making decisions for me and being made to go along with them. I'm used to agreeing to things I don't want to do because I'm not in a position to say no and I know it wasn't your intention, but I can't put up with that from someone I'm in a relationship with," I finished.

I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck before continuing, "When you make decisions without talking to me, Teo, I feel like that kid again. The one who had to smile and nod and convince himself he didn't mind because the alternative was getting tossed out on his ass."

"I didn't know that," he said quietly.

"I know you didn't," I replied. "You couldn't have. I never told you."

"And still," he added, voice almost too low to hear, "I hurt you."

I hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. A little. Not on purpose, but...it still happened."

He didn't argue. He didn't deflect. He didn't get defensive—miracle of miracles.

"...I don't want to make you feel like that," he murmured, thumb rubbing across his knuckles. "Ever."

"Well," I said, leaning forward with a half-smile I didn't quite feel but wanted to, "then I guess we're going to have to learn how to talk to each other like healthy adults."

Teodoro huffed. "That sounds awful."

"It does, doesn't it?" I agreed. "A real nightmare."

He actually laughed a little at that.

"In honor of being healthy adults, should we talk about the elephant in the room...?" He asked reluctantly.

I sighed, knowing he was talking about our less-than-amicable breakup. "We should."

I knew I was the one who ended things, but it was difficult not to question my choices after mulling over Gage and Tia's words. I didn't regret wanting Teodoro to leave the mafia, but I did regret the way I approached the situation. Emotions were running high and neither of us was in a good place. It wasn't fair to him.

"I...I can sit here and tell you some shitty anecdotes about my life, but it'll just be long and sad so let me get to the point: I grew up around violence, Teo. I didn't have a choice about what I was exposed to or what kind of people came in and out of my life." I swallowed. "When I was a kid, I swore to myself—swore—that wouldn't always be the life my family and I lived in. I love you, you know that, but my feelings on violence don't magically disappear just because the person I love is the one surrounded by it."

I hated that it was such a giant obstacle in our relationship. I hated that I had to say those words to him at all. Not because they were hard to say—I'd lived by them for years—but because saying them to him...that was something else entirely.

Teodoro watched me and I could practically see the cogwheels turning in his mind.

"I know," he finally said.

And he did. Teodoro wasn't stupid—emotionally obtuse, sure, but not stupid. He'd known from the day we met at Spice and Dice that first time, maybe even before then, that the mafia would never be my world.

"I don't blame you," he added, "for wanting normal. For wanting safety. For wanting something better than what I was offering you at the time."

"You're better than what you think you are," I added, because God knows someone needed to tell him that out loud. "A better person than most give you credit for. I shouldn't have ambushed you with the 'leave the mafia' ultimatum. I know that. You were grieving. You were spiraling. And I went nuclear instead of...talking to you."

He stared at the table like the wood grain had personally offended him.

"I didn't exactly handle it well either," he admitted. "I should've listened to you more instead of trying to dismiss your feelings. I get that you don't want to be around that life and I won't hold that against you, but I need you to understand that some things are always going to be tied to me. Some people. Like Enrico—I could never cut him out of my life."

"I don't want you to completely change who you are. I love your sarcastic attitude even if it drives me crazy at times; I love the weirdly specific insults, the way you act like you're allergic to caring but then clean and bandage my wounds when I get hurt," I finished, giving him a look. "I don't want you to stop being you and I don't want you to cut off the good parts of your life, I just want a world without the constant violence."

"...What would the ideal life look like to you?" He asked me.

"Honestly? It's not even some big dramatic picture. I don't need a mansion or a white picket fence or two golden retrievers named after Greek gods. I just want...quiet."

Teodoro blinked like he didn't know whether to be offended or relieved.

"I want boring. I want to wake up and not have to worry about who's going to show up at the door with a gun," I continued. "I want to go to work, come home, complain about annoying customers, and fall asleep next to someone I love without feeling like our lives are always two seconds away from blowing up. I want something painfully, boringly, unbelievably normal. That's it."

He didn't respond to me right away, but he looked past me like maybe he was trying to imagine the picture I was painting.

"Let's say I could give you boring," he started, "a normal life with normal careers and the whole nine yards...you know that wouldn't be an immediate thing."

"I don't need it to be immediate, but I need to know that it will happen sooner rather than later. If you can promise me—guarantee—that the life we end up building won't look like the one you're living right now," I said, steadying my voice, "then I can work with the temporary chaos. I can handle the transition. I just can't handle permanent."

"I understand." He nodded, but that still wasn't a promise.

"But...?"

"...But that will never be able to happen here. Someone is always going to know my name," he explained. "My face. My family. Even if I cut ties, even if I step back, even if I disappear for a bit—here, I'll always be Teodoro Raymond, the mafia boss, Lionel's little brother. People don't forget that."

"So, we'd move."

"You'd want to do that? Move away from your siblings?"

I wasn't completely thrilled with it, but moving doesn't mean never seeing my family again. "I could do it. If you can meet me halfway then I can meet you halfway."

His eyes seemed to soften. "I'm not asking you to move away from your family when our relationship is still new in the grand scheme of things, Linus. That's just unreasonable," Teodoro argued, rubbing the heel of his palm against his brow like even thinking about the future was making his head hurt. "I'm not going to uproot you before we've even figured out how to...do this."

"Teo," I said gently. "I'm not asking us to put down a deposit on a house in another state tomorrow. I'm saying if we ever want to be somewhere quieter then I'm willing to consider it. That's all."

He sighed like he'd been holding that breath for days.

"I don't want to drag you into something you'll resent," he murmured.

"You said it yourself that this isn't something that would happen immediately. We'll sit down and make a plan—you love plans," I reminded him with a little smile. "We'll be smart about it and if this, us, is something that works out then we'll go through with it. We don't have to figure the rest of our lives out tonight. It's probably better that way too. It'll give us both time to figure out what we want and what we're willing to give."

He started to speak but I raised a finger to stop him.

"And don't tell me you can't see the future with me. You wouldn't be sitting here if you didn't already picture something. Maybe not everything, maybe not the fine details, but something. It's fine if you're reluctant because I have enough optimism for the both of us," I stated, because if there was one thing Teodoro Raymond needed, it was someone who wasn't afraid to drag him toward the light even when he sulked all the way there.

Teodoro let out a quiet scoff. "Optimism. That's what we're calling it."

"Yes," I said. "Optimism. Accept it. I'm the ray of sunshine in this dynamic." He didn't deny it, so I added, "You've told me plenty of times that I could have anything I wanted. Well, I don't want money or physical items. I want this, so let me have you."

I intertwined and searched his face while I waited for a response. Teodoro didn't look away.

That alone felt like a win.

His dark chocolate eyes were steady on me. Not cold. Not calculating. Just...open. Like he was trying to memorize every word I'd said.

"They were right. You really do make me soft," he muttered.

"That's not a—"

"Yes, Linus."

I'd asked for the words, sure, but I wasn't prepared for how easily they slid out of him. No hesitation. No half‑assed attempt to dodge the commitment. Just...yes.

"Yes?" I repeated, because I needed to hear it again even if it made me sound like an idiot.

"Yes," he confirmed, firmer this time. "You can...have me."

The sound that left my mouth was loud enough to cause half the restaurant to glance at us, but I didn't care and that sure as hell didn't stop me from pulling him up with me so I could pull him into a tight hug.

He stared at me, bewildered, hands at his sides. "People are staring."

"Let them stare," I said into his shoulder, refusing to let go. "They're jealous."

"Of what?" he muttered, stiff as a board.

"Of me," I said immediately. "Obviously. I have the handsomest, grumpiest man in the building in my arms."

"That's ridiculous," he replied, but his hands finally lifted and landed on my waist, hesitant at first, then firmer once he realized I wasn't letting him go anytime soon. "We still have to hammer down the finer details."

"I don't care."

"And we will care. Later. When you stop...doing whatever this is."

"Hugging you?" I asked, still glued to him. "Showing affection? Being thrilled my boyfriend said yes for once without a novel-length argument?"

"I'm not your boyfriend," he said and I pulled back just enough to see his face.

I blinked.

He blinked.

"What?"

"You dumped me," he said slowly like I was an idiot. "You also owe me a first, official, date since you insisted on planning it. Woo me," he finished, deadpan.

My jaw dropped. "Teodoro, we are literally reconciling right now. You just said yes."

"I said you can have me," he corrected. "Not that the relationship status was automatically reset. There are formalities."

"Formalities?" I repeated, louder than necessary, because what the hell. "Teo, you are not a house mortgage. You don't have formalities."

"You dumped me," he said again, pointing at me like he was a witness testifying in court. "Therefore, you start at the beginning. Step one: you woo me."

He dropped more than enough cash on the table to cover the glass of water he'd ordered and headed toward the exit, leaving me standing there like an absolute idiot.

"...What?" I repeated quietly while staring at the door because how did you woo a man who could buy half the city if he felt like it?

I jogged after him, pushing out into the parking lot just in time to see him leaning against his car, waiting for my brain to stop short-circuiting.

"Are you serious right now?" I asked, hands on my hips because someone needed to be dramatic, and apparently today it was me.

Teodoro shrugged one shoulder. "Dead serious. Woo me."

"Teo, you don't even like being wooed."

"I like you," he corrected. "And if you want me back, you can put in the effort. I'm worth the effort," he added, chin tilting up slightly like he wasn't even trying to hide how sure of that he was.

"Unfortunately, yes," I sighed.

"You don't have to do anything elaborate. Just..." He paused, searching for words. "Make it intentional."

"You have a weird way of asking me on a date."

"I'm not asking." He slipped his hands into his pockets. "I'm telling you to ask me on one."

"You realize that's functionally the same thing."

"We're doing things right this time. Better. Healthier." He closed the gap between us. "You can do this for me, can't you?"

"...fine, you want me to ask you on a date?"

"Yes."

"You'll say yes?"

"Probably."

I laughed and leaned closer. "Okay then. Teodoro Raymond, will you go on a date with me?"

He blinked once. Twice. Then—

"No."

My mouth dropped open. "What—"

"I told you," he said coolly, "you have to woo me."

"That was me wooing you!"

"That was you asking a question. Wooing requires more steps."

"I am going to commit a crime."

"You can't. I just agreed to potentially build a mundane life with you."

"I'll text you," I said, defeated.

"You better."

He walked around to the driver's side like the conversation was settled. He climbed in and the engine rumbled to life and he looked at me through the open window.

"Linus."

"What?"

"Don't half‑ass it."

"You just full‑assed rejected me!"

"This doesn't mean I don't want you," he said, softer now, like the words were private even though we were in the middle of a parking lot. "It just means...start the way you wanted us to continue."

"Healthy adults?" I asked.

He nodded once. "Healthy adults."

"And wooing," I added.

"And wooing," he confirmed, rolling his eyes like the concept physically hurt him.

He drove off, leaving me in the glow of retreating taillights, hands on my hips, staring after him like the lovesick idiot I absolutely was.