"Andrea!" Aurora exclaims, her face lighting up with surprise and joy as she sees me stepping into her house. The warm Sicilian sun streams through the windows, casting a golden glow. Stefano and I had just arrived minutes ago. "What are you doing here?" Aurora asks, rushing over to embrace me.

"I came for your birthday, but your brother dragged me here too," I say with a wry smile, pulling her into a tight hug.

"You did what?" Aurora turns to face Stefano, her brow furrowed in confusion. But he just walks past us, ignoring the both of us completely, his jaw clenched.

I take a deep breath and tell her everything that has happened since we first traveled to Rome. I explained how I wanted to surprise her with my visit, which is why I didn't tell her I was in Rome weeks ago.

"He dragged you to Sicily because of that? And you went to Rome?" Aurora's eyes widen in shock, worry lines etching her beautiful face.

"Yes, I still can't believe he's that jealous of my friendship with Ivan. And don't give me that look about going to Rome. I'm fine," I assure her, though my heart clenches remembering how emotionally charged that trip had been.

"Let's put a pause on the conversation about my brother first," Aurora says, her worry deepening. "I can't believe you went to Rome." Her blue eyes glisten with unshed tears. "After all this time..."

I nod, swallowing past the lump in my throat. "I walked those streets again after all this time. The same streets where..." I trail off, the memories threatening to overwhelm me.

Aurora reaches out, her hand warm on my arm. "And?" Her voice is soft and encouraging.

I take a shaky breath. "And I was okay. More than okay. For the first time, the past didn't have a stranglehold on me." As the realization sinks in, a laugh bubbles up, mingling with the tears now coursing down my cheeks.

"Oh, Andrea!" Aurora pulls me into a fierce hug as tears spill down both our cheeks - tears of relief, of pride, of a bittersweet sort of healing. "I'm so proud of you," she whispers.

"I'm proud of me, too," I murmur, clinging to her for a long moment before pulling back and swiping at my damp cheeks. "But enough crying before Stefano passes by and demands to know what's going on."

Aurora laughs, dabbing at her own eyes. "True. I'm so glad you were able to face it and come out the other side. You're so strong."

I squeeze her hand, offering a grateful smile as the last of the tears fade, replaced by a lightness in my chest. A feeling of hope and possibility.

"Are you sure you're really okay, though? No dreams or episodes since you got back?" Her eyes search mine, full of concern.

I shake my head, giving her a reassuring smile." I'm fine, I promise. I was so busy with work after I returned that I barely thought about it." It's the truth, but I know Aurora won't fully relax until she's certain I'm alright.

"Hmm, alright. But next time, please let me know if you want to visit somewhere or do anything related to that incident. I want to be there for you." Her tone is gentle but firm.

"I will, don't worry," I assure her with a small smile.

"Now, back to my brother," Aurora says, linking our arms together as we walk further into the house. The cool tiles are a relief from the heat outside.

I release a deep sigh, the weight of my tangled feelings for Stefano pressing down on me. "Can I get something to drink before we talk about him?"

"Of course." Aurora leads me into the bright, airy kitchen, pouring us each a glass of crisp chardonnay. I take a fortifying sip, the cool liquid sliding down my throat.

"Okay, let's hear it," Aurora prompts after taking a sip of her own drink.

I drain the rest of my wine in one large gulp and set down the empty glass with a thunk. "He's driving me insane, Aurora." The words tumble out as I unburden myself, telling her how Stefano keeps pushing me away and then pulling me close again, like in Rome when he sent me away only to drag me to Sicily now.

Aurora listens intently, her head tilted. "I don't think he sent you away in Rome for the reason you think," she muses.

"I know. He probably did it to protect me from the gang after him." I grab the bottle, refilling my glass with slightly shaking hands.

"Then why are you confused about his feelings if you know this?" Aurora arches an eyebrow.

"It's not enough," I admit, taking another long sip. "For all we know, he might just be protecting me because you would kill him if something happened to me on his watch."

"Do you really think that's the only reason he's protecting you?" Aurora asks pointedly, peering at me over the rim of her glass.

I slump into the kitchen stool. "No... Yes. I don't know." I tip the rest of my drink back in frustration.

Aurora's expression softens. "Talk to me. I might be his sister, but you can open up to me about him, as long as it's PG," she teases gently.

"He keeps telling me that's why. And as much as I don't want to believe it... Your brother hasn't even kissed me, Aurora. It's hard not to think that all those charged moments between us were just in my head." The wine is hitting me now, my words starting to slur. I take a swig straight from the bottle.

"Hmm, you make a valid point," Aurora concedes, brow creased in thought.

"I know I do," I mumble, the alcohol and exhaustion catching up with me.

"But don't worry, the truth always comes to light." She takes the bottle from my slack grip.

"I hope it comes soon because I'm tired, Aurora. Really tired of this back and forth." I can barely keep my eyes open.

"I know. And it will soon," she soothes, helping me up and guiding me out of the kitchen to the guest room.

I collapse face-first onto the soft bed, the scent of sun-dried linens enveloping me. As I drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep, Aurora's reassurance echoes in my mind, a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, Stefano's feelings for me are real. But for now, I let the exhaustion take me, my heart full of longing, confusion, and the tiniest spark of possibility.

***

The next day, I decide to leave the house and get some fresh air, desperate to clear my mind from the constant thoughts of Stefano and our complicated situation. I visit an art studio, knowing that immersing myself in creativity always helps to calm my frayed nerves.

As I wander through the gallery, I find myself drawn to the paintings, each one a window into the artist's soul. I try to imagine what they were thinking and feeling as they poured their heart onto the canvas. Were they grappling with their own demons, their own impossible loves? The thought brings a wry smile to my lips.

Gradually, as I lose myself in the brushstrokes and colors, I feel the tension begin to drain from my body. The art is a balm, soothing the raw edges of my emotions and transporting me, if only for a moment, to a world beyond my own troubles.

After the exhibition, I find myself drawn to a nearby bookstore, another haven in the storm of my life. Historical fiction has always been my weakness, especially when there's a romance woven through the pages. There's something about losing myself in another time, another place, that never fails to captivate me.

I spend hours browsing the shelves, running my fingers along the spines of the books, breathing in the comforting scent of paper and ink. By the time I'm ready to leave, the sun has long since set, and the streets outside are dark and quiet.

I call Aurora to come pick me up, but she's still tied up at the office. She promises to send someone else, and I agree, too tired to question who it might be. But when the car pulls up, I'm shocked to see who she sent, but relieved it's him. Part of me wonders if Aurora is intentionally pushing us together, making him confront his feelings for me after our conversation yesterday.

"Get in!" he says sharply, his voice clipped, and I'm taken aback by his tone. I notice immediately that his mood isn't the best right now. A deep frown creases his face, his fist clenched tightly on the wheel. Something must have happened before he arrived.

"Is everything alright?" I ask cautiously as I slide into the car, feeling the cool leather seat against my skin.

"Yes," he replies curtly, pulling away from the curb with his gaze fixed on the road ahead.

I stare at him, wondering what could have caused his mood to sour like this, but hold off from pressing for more right now.

After several long minutes, he breaks the silence. "I'm too tired to drive you back to the estate. If you don't mind, could you stay at my penthouse for the night?" he asks, his voice low and hoarse with fatigue. Fatigue? I take another look at him and notice the exhaustion lines etched on his face. The urge to reach out and ease the stress from his brow is strong, but I hold back, sensing now might not be the best time.

I blink, surprised by his offer. But as I take in the slump of his shoulders and the tightness around his eyes, I know I can't refuse. "I don't mind at all," I say softly, settling back into my seat. My heart beats with anticipation, wondering if being alone with him again will finally lead us to take the next step. If it does, I'll have Autora to thank for it.

The drive to Stefano's apartment is short, but a dull ache gnaws at my abdomen, and exhaustion begins to seep through my body. The hunger must be intense because as we ride the elevator up, I find myself leaning against the wall, trying to steady myself. Stefano shows me to the spare bedroom, offering his clothes for the night. I accept them gratefully, breathing in his intoxicating scent as I head to the bathroom to change.

After a quick shower, I emerge to find the penthouse quiet and empty. Stefano is nowhere to be seen. I order food, hoping he'll join me for dinner, but my eyelids grow heavy as the minutes tick by. Before I know it, sleep pulls me under, my body surrendering to the fatigue of the day.

I wake hours later to a searing pain in my waist, so intense it steals my breath. I stumble to the bathroom, realization dawning as I confirm my suspicions. My period, three days early and more brutal than ever. The cramps twist like a knife in my gut, and I bite back a groan, doubling over in agony.

Rummaging through my purse, I search for a tampon, cursing under my breath when I come up empty. I always keep a spare in my purse in case of emergencies like now, but I must have forgotten to replace it the last time I used it. I consider calling Aurora, but I know it would take her too long to get here. I need one now.

That leaves only one option. Stefano. The thought of asking him for help mortifies me, but what choice do I have? I am in no condition to go out right now. I'm still debating when the door swings open, revealing a worried Stefano on the other side.

"Andrea, are you okay? You sounded like you were in pain," he says, rushing to my side. I'm curled on the floor, unable to straighten up, and I realize with a flush of embarrassment that he must have heard my whimpers through the walls.

"I'm fine; nothing's wrong," I lie, but another wave of pain crashes over me, and I can't hide my grimace.

Stefano's brow furrows, his eyes filled with concern. "You don't look or sound fine. What's wrong?" He demands more than asks.

I hesitate, feeling my cheeks burning with embarrassment. But the cramps are relentless; I can barely walk right now. "I need, um..." I trail off, too shy to say the words out loud to him, though if it were any other guy, maybe I wouldn't be this shy.

Stefano leans closer, his voice gentle. "You can tell me. What do you need?"

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to meet his gaze. And in that moment, I see a side of him I've only glimpsed once before - the night of my panic attack. He's soft and caring, his usual bravado stripped away to reveal a tenderness that makes my heart ache.

"I need a tampon," I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut. I can't bear to see his reaction.

There's a beat of silence, and then Stefano clears his throat. "Oh. Is there anything I can get you for the pain?"

"Yes, please. I need a hot water bottle and ibuprofen."

"Alright, I'll be back shortly with everything you need. First, let me carry you to the bed."

I start to protest, but Stefano ignores me, scooping me up like I weigh nothing. He sets me down gently on the mattress, his touch lingering for a moment. "Hold on tight. I'll be back soon."

True to his word, Stefano returns in record time, his arms full of supplies. He helps me to the bathroom, waiting patiently as I change. As I freshen up, I can't help but smile at the thought of him in the store, his tattoos on display as he searches for tampons. The image is endearing, and I feel a rush of warmth towards him.

When I emerge, Stefano is still there, hovering nearby. "You can go," I tell him, even though a part of me desperately wants him to stay. "You've helped with everything I need."

But Stefano shakes his head, his expression determined. "I'll leave when I know you're feeling better. Now, get into bed."

He guides me back to the mattress, pulling the covers up to my chin. I watch him, transfixed, as he places the hot water bottle on my stomach with a gentleness that steals my breath. He hands me a glass of water and the ibuprofen, making sure I swallow the pills before setting the glass aside.

I expect him to leave then, but to my surprise, he drags a chair over to the bedside and sits down. "Stefano, you don't have to stay with me. It's just cramps, I'm not sick or anything."

"I know," he says, his gaze soft but unwavering. "I still want to make sure you're fine the whole night."

My heart stutters at his words, a grin threatening to split my face. I turn away quickly, pulling the covers up to hide my smile. "Alright, if you say so."

As I close my eyes, I sense Stefano's presence beside me—solid and comforting. Despite the throbbing pain in my belly, I feel a glimmer of hope. Tonight, in this moment, I've glimpsed the man beneath the mask once again. The man who cares for me, who wants to take care of me, and I don't think being Aurora's best friend has anything to do with it.

As I drift off to sleep, I can't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, I was wrong, and I couldn't be happier about it. Whatever is holding him back, I believe we can find a way to work through it together.