Page 158 of The Art of Ruin

And there it is.

A first edition copy of my mother’s favorite book. With trembling fingers, I pick it up and turn to the first page and my breath stops.

Signed.

Inside the cover, beneath the author’s signature, is a short, handwritten note.

For Casey.

Some stories stay with us because the people we loved handed them to us first.

Emotion crashes into me so fast it steals the breath from my lungs entirely. “Adriano…”

My voice breaks slightly around his name.

When I look up at him, he’s watching me carefully now, like he’s trying to judge whether he’s overstepped somehow.

God. This man.

“You mentioned reading it to your mother in the hospital,” he says quietly. “I thought maybe you should have your own copy.”

The fact that he remembers that conversation at all feels almost unbearable suddenly.

Because I told him that once.

Casually.

Weeks ago.

And somehow, he listened like it mattered, filed it away and remembered, so he could do something nice for me.

Tears sting unexpectedly behind my eyes before I can stop them.

Immediately, Adriano steps closer, concern flashing across his face. “Casey?”

I laugh shakily, embarrassed as I wipe quickly beneath my eyes. “I hate that you constantly make me emotional now.”

His hand slides gently along my jaw. “Come here.”

And just like always lately—

I walk into his arms, and he holds me like I’m precious.

25.Casey

“You’re smiling at nothing again.”

I glance up from the coffee machine to find Elena leaning against the kitchen island, watching me with entirely too much amusement for a Tuesday morning.

“I’m literally making coffee. Why would I not smile at the nectar of the gods?”

“You’re smiling at the coffee like it personally proposed to you.”

“If it did, I’d definitely say yes.”

“It’s not that. It’s him.”

I narrow my eyes. “You’re all very nosey people.”