Chapter 23

Dante had chosen March 11 as his departure date because Rome’s time zone was ahead of New York’s. Leaving on the eleventh meant they would arrive at dawn on the twelfth, allowing them to spend the entirety of their anniversary day in Italy.

Dante wasn’t naturally a trip planner. He was the kind of man who, if his partner wanted something, would smoothly pull out his card and pay for it with style. Meticulously researching and reserving every single detail had never been his forte.

Their vacations usually followed that exact pattern. But since they were spending their fourth anniversary in Italy, Dante had stepped forward. This was, after all, the country where his roots lay. Though born in the United States, he was a man of pure Italian blood, and it only felt right to lead the way and set an example for Rhys.

Before the trip, Rhys had sat at the kitchen table, listening patiently to the plan Dante had poured his heart and soul into. Every time Dante asked, “What do you think? Is it okay?” Rhys would respond, “I think it sounds wonderful.” There was only one moment his reaction changed: when Dante explained the flight itinerary.

Pulling up the airline website to check the flight Dante had screenshotted, Rhys confirmed the arrival time and silently scrolled for a moment. Click. Click. Even though there was no more page left to scroll down, Rhys kept spinning the wheel before grabbing the scrollbar to drag it back to the top. Then, he looked up with a smile.

“Tay, is this the one you mean?”

Tay, for the record, was Dante’s private nickname. He reserved it strictly for his lover, telling his family and friends to call him Danny or Tino instead. Most other Americans, however, heard his name and immediately called him the “devil hunter,” thanks to a famous video game character. Regardless, Rhys was the only one permitted to call him Tay.

Rhys pointed at the flight on the laptop screen. It arrived at 4:10 a.m.—exactly the time Dante had wanted.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

Answering proudly, Dante beamed as he waited for the praise he was sure would follow. Rhys studied his bright, guileless face for a moment, then looked back at the screen. Dante watched blankly as Rhys quietly hit the refresh button.

Wouldn’t that mean entering the flight dates all over again? While Dante blinked at this baffling behavior, Rhys re-entered the information. The newly loaded page still displayed the flight arriving at 4:10 a.m.

Is this a joke…?

Dante thought he caught Rhys murmuring those words in a barely audible whisper. But since there was no way someone as beautiful as Rhys would utter something so menacing, Dante pretended he hadn’t heard a thing. He must have misheard out of sheer exhaustion.

“You’re saying this is definitely the flight that arrives at four in the morning?”

“Right! That’s only four hours after our anniversary officially begins. Isn’t that exciting?”

Hearing Dante’s delighted tone, Rhys smiled back.

“Of course it’s exciting. But Tay, flights to Europe usually leave in the evening and arrive around nine in the morning. I’ve never seen a direct flight that lands at four a.m. Could this be the wrong route? It’s a flag carrier, not even a budget airline.”

“That could be.”

Unlike Dante, Rhys had traveled overseas extensively, so he was likely right. Still, Dante didn’t want to give up that four-a.m. arrival.

“Then I’ll call the airline to double-check tomorrow.”

Rhys froze for a few seconds, his smile perfectly fixed. If Dante hadn’t caught the slight tremble of those pretty eyelashes, he might have mistaken him for a statue. Fortunately, Rhys spoke a moment later.

“If you call the airline, the hold time alone will be at least twenty minutes,” Rhys noted. “You don’t have that kind of time to waste anyway. Would a flight arriving at eight or nine in the morning really be so bad?”

Was it just his imagination, or did Rhys seem less than thrilled with the plan? Slightly anxious, Dante studied his expression. But Rhys, smiling before him, looked as flawless as a masterpiece. The soft curve of his eyes and the gentle lift of his lips seemed perfectly natural. Hesitating, Dante asked uncertainly,

“Do you… not like the four-a.m. arrival?”

“No, of course not,” came the immediate reply. “I was just curious why it had to be four a.m.”

Ah. Dante had meant to keep it a secret. Rubbing his jaw, he fell into deep thought. It was supposed to be a surprise for when they landed. But if he spilled it now, Rhys would undoubtedly be thrilled, and imagining that delight made Dante impatient. When it came to Rhys, his self-control easily crumbled.

“I heard the Trevi Fountain is the least crowded at dawn,” Dante explained. “Once it’s past six, the crowds start gathering, so it seemed hard to enjoy it peacefully. Plus, Europe has a lot of pickpockets, so… I wanted to go there first thing after landing.”

It was a plan entirely for Rhys’s benefit, but voicing it aloud made Dante feel a bit self-conscious. Maybe he was overdoing it. It felt a little too romantic, almost excessive. He laughed off the awkwardness, deliberately acting nonchalant.

But Rhys’s reaction wasn’t at all what he anticipated.

For a fleeting second, the flawless smile vanished from that beautiful face, and his eyes widened. As if struck by something entirely unexpected, Rhys went dead silent.

Is it not good? Was it not what he wanted?

Just as anxiety began to creep in, Rhys rose from his chair. The moment he moved, his distinctive, sweet floral scent—which had been faint until now—deepened dramatically. What on earth was that perfume? Sometimes it was undetectable, and then at moments like this, it would suddenly flare up. It truly was a mysterious scent. Dante reminded himself that he really ought to ask about it this time.

Before he could voice the thought, however, he found himself enveloped in Rhys’s arms. His eyes widened at the sudden embrace. The arms wrapped around him tightened sharply for a brief second, then loosened the moment Dante flinched. Wondering what was wrong, Dante lifted his head slightly until his eyes met Rhys’s. Those gray-blue depths looked distinctly tinged with pale violet today.

“I love you, Tay….”

Rhys confessed his love with an expression so tender it looked as though he might cry. It felt at odds with the dizzyingly intense floral scent wrapping around them. Growing serious, Dante quickly cupped Rhys’s cheek and asked gently,

“Why do you look like that, beautiful? What’s wrong?”

Rhys leaned his face into Dante’s palm and closed his eyes. Lowering his long lashes, he shook his head after a moment and whispered,

“It’s just… because I’m so happy.”

“You’re really happy, right?” Dante pressed.

If he was so happy, why did he look on the verge of tears? Rhys remained silent for a long moment before burying his face in Dante’s shoulder.

“Sometimes I can’t believe Dante is my lover.”

“Haha, same here.”

“No. Tay, you don’t know…” Rhys murmured, his lips brushing against Dante’s shoulder.

At the prickling sensation of his beautiful partner’s breath seeping through the thin cotton of his T-shirt, Dante fell silent, a flush creeping up his neck. Grateful that Rhys couldn’t see his face, Dante tightened his embrace.

“Tay… doesn’t know a lot of things.”

Why would he say that? They had been dating for over three years, and Dante felt he knew Rhys inside out by now. Puzzled but charmed, Dante chuckled softly.

“Then tell me.”

“If I did, you wouldn’t stay by my side.”

Once again, the words made no sense. It wasn’t the kind of thing someone usually said while planning an anniversary getaway. Dante gently stroked Rhys’s back, a low chuckle vibrating in his chest. Holding him like this made them feel like two interlocking pieces of a puzzle. Dante rubbed his flushed cheek against Rhys’s shoulder, whispering,

“I’ll always be by your side.”

Right. He had definitely said those words.

When Rhys had to endure Dante’s foolish mentions of breaking up later on, had he remembered the promise Dante made that night?

***