Epilogue 2
Dalia's POV
"I'm so fucking nervous," I said lowly, scratching the back of my neck.
"If you want we can do this another time," Vittore said, reaching out over the table to hold my hand.
The soft clatter of plates in the restaurant, la Lanterne Bouillante was getting to my nerves. I wasn't even able to drink any of the wine that was in the flute beside me.
I run my sweaty palms over the deep red evening gown I was in, my thigh peeking through the slit at the side.
Why did I think this was a good idea?
"No I have to do this. I have to. It only seems right," I said and looked at him, my eyes going over his dark suit with a deep red undershirt that matched my dress and the necklace I'd got him hanging from his neck, front and centre. I was so dragging him to the bedroom when we got home.