Blake didn't leave Florence right away.Early the next morning, the downstairs buzzer rang.Zoe leaned out the window, looked down, and told me a huge bouquet of red roses was sitting by the door.The card bore Blake's name, which surprised no one.I gave the flowers to the elderly woman who ran the tailor shop on the ground floor and kept only a photo for my records.That afternoon, an oversized coffee with oat milk and caramel syrup was delivered to the department's front desk.That was what I used to drink sophomore year.But since coming to Italy, I'd gotten used to standing at the bar with a small, unsweetened coffee.I poured it down the sink without feeling much of anything.Blake remembered what I used to like. People change.The Claire he remembered was gone for good.For the next three days, he waited for me somewhere along my route to class.The third time I saw him, I deliberately stopped instead of going around him.His eyes lit up when he saw me stop, and he started towar
Read more
LOGIN
