Even if, the writer and the girl can never be together, he wants her to know that she is beautiful and the only person who doesn’t believe that is her.
I grabbed a coat. I had been an idiot. I ran over to Dante’s apartment praying he was home.
“He just left.” The doorman politely informed me.
Of course, he had. He probably went to the dance. I couldn’t go there. I wasn’t dressed for it or anything. Besides, he probably didn’t feel that way for me anymore, after I had blown him off, he must have figured he was better off without me. Feeling more than just a little depressed, I headed over to Heaven’s Kitchen.
The café was filled with happy couples which made me feel even worse. I scanned the room for an empty seat when I saw the back of his head. It was Dante. Silently, I approached him. He was so absorbed in a book that he didn’t even notice me come up behind him.
“Hey,” I said as I sat down in the chair across from him.
“Claudia.” His full lips parted in shock.
“I read your story.” I tried to sound causal.
“And?”
“Crafted better than a box of exotic Bolivian seashell truffles. Sweeter than a cup of Peruvian hot chocolate.”
“You liked it?” Dante let out a giant sigh. “Claudia, I was never in on Beatrice’s game. After she sent me her strange request, I knew I never wanted to have anything to do with her. I never responded, but she kept texting me. I never meant to hurt you, I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too, I just never believed that I was good enough for you. I should have let you explain.”
“Not good enough? Then you can’t see what I see.” Dante leaned over the table and brought his lips to mine. Electricity surged through me as our lips met. I gave into the kiss. It was sweeter than white chocolate truffles. “I love you, Claudia.”
“I love you, too.” Saying those words, and believing that I was actually good enough for Dante was sweet surrender.