INSATIABLE VOWS
Not because I had suddenly fallen in love with him, but because I liked the heavy, proprietary way he said my wife without making it sound like he owned me.
Inside the quiet parlor, we sat at a small corner table near the back.
I had chosen a bizarre, experimental lavender-honey-rosemary flavor that Alessio looked at with outright judicial contempt.
"That," Alessio said, gesturing to my cup with his spoon, "is an architectural hazard, not a dessert."
"It's sophisticated," I insisted, taking a bite. "Unlike your boring vanilla bean."
"Vanilla bean is a classic. Yours tastes like a scented candle."