Abby’s POV
He added two more dishes before passing the menu back to the server.
A moment later, the server placed a gleaming silver French press on the table.
Matteo reached for it, pressed the plunger down, and poured me a small cup of the dark, steaming liquid.
“Give it a try.”
I took a small sip.
It was strong.
Incredibly bitter.
I tried not to wince as I set the cup down.
He noticed my disinterest instantly.
His expression didn’t change, but he silently reached for a clean cup and the small, silver pitcher of hot, frothed milk that had come with the coffee service.
He filled the fresh cup with the warm milk and slid it across the table toward me.
I blinked, genuinely surprised.
I looked at Matteo, and a small, involuntary smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.
I picked up the cup of milk and took a sip.
It was warm, sweet, and perfect.
Yeah, I really wasn’t into bitter coffee.
Still, I was stunned he’d caught such a tiny detail so quickly.
He watched me, his gaze softening, though his eyes were still sharp.
“Next time,” he said, his voice low, “if there’s something you don’t like, just tell me.”
That made me glance at him again, really look at him.
My thoughts rippled.
It was such a small, quiet gesture, but it felt…
different.
Something had quietly shifted between us.
Matteo leaned back in his chair, watching me over his own black coffee.
A slow, knowing half-smile touched his lips.
“Mrs. Romano,” he said, his voice a low, intimate rumble.
You sure you don’t want to give this a real shot and actually get to know each other?”
“Alright, what do you want to know about me?” I challenged him softly, leaning forward a little.
Honestly, what he said made sense.
Matteo raised an eyebrow, a small, intrigued smile playing on his lips.
He leaned in, mirroring me, and rested his chin on his hand.
“Whatever you’re comfortable sharing.” His voice was low, and his eyes were focused.
He wasn’t interrogating me; he was…
inviting me.
I paused, taking a sip of my warm milk.
“Okay. Let’s start with food.” I started to list them off on my fingers.
“I don’t eat animal organs. I can’t stand scallions, ginger, or garlic. And I’m not into spicy stuff or tea. Everything else is fine.”
I took a breath, bracing myself for the next part.
“As for lifestyle… I’m a bit of a neat freak. Maybe even a touch of OCD.” I looked at him, trying to gauge his reaction.
“I don’t like things being left around, and I prefer everything at home to be kept in perfect order.”
I finished, expecting…
something.
A grimace?
A sigh?
A joke about me being difficult?
That’s what I was used to.
Matteo just listened quietly, his dark eyes never leaving my face.
If someone else had heard all that, they’d probably call me high-maintenance.
But Matteo just looked up, and that small smile widened into something genuinely warm.
“Keep going. I’m taking mental notes.” He tapped his temple, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Got it. No garlic, total neat freak.”
I studied his expression, genuinely puzzled.
He…
really didn’t find me troublesome?
Nicholas used to complain all the time.
He said my habits were “rigid” and “stressful” and clashed with his “spontaneous” life.
But Matteo?
He was genuinely taking in every word, no complaints, no impatience.
Yeah, people really shouldn’t be compared.
The difference was…
staggering.
Shoving those dark thoughts aside, I gave him a slight, genuine smile.
The first one that didn’t feel like an act.
“That’s about it for now. We’ll figure out the rest as we go.”
He nodded in agreement.
I looked at him, my lips curving slightly.
“What about you? Got anything you despise?”
He shrugged casually.
“I’m not picky.
As long as it’s edible, it works for me.” He paused, then added, “As for my habits…
I used to stay out late a lot.
But don’t worry, I’ll make sure I’m back home by ten at the latest.”
He ducked his head, rubbing the tip of his nose a little awkwardly.
I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it, but it seemed like he couldn’t quite meet my eyes for a second.
I’d heard all about his lifestyle before—”night owl” was an understatement.
So hearing this promise from him now, face-to-face, threw me off.
With a faint smile, I replied, “It’s not that serious. I’m not going to set crazy rules for you. Just don’t stay out all night, that’s all.” I leaned in a little.
“Mr. Romano, since I chose you, I’m not planning on a divorce anytime soon.”
I took a breath and laid my next card on the table.
“And no, I’m not looking to live apart from you either.”
He couldn’t help but grin, his confidence flooding back.
“So what you’re saying, Mrs. Romano, is… if things go well between us, you’re open to the idea of taking this marriage long-term?” His smirk turned dangerous.
“Like, maybe… making it forever?”
He was pretty sure he hadn’t misread what I’d just said.
I paused for a second, but I collected myself and smiled.
“Right now, I’m not actively looking to start a new relationship, but I’m not closed off to it either. I mean, we’re already married—I wasn’t planning to keep anything from you. If you’re confident in this and it turns out we actually click…” I shrugged.
“I guess love just finds its way in, right?”
I didn’t give him a straight answer, but it wasn’t a no, either.
He chuckled.
“Didn’t someone just say they were curious about me and wanted to be Mrs. Romano? Hearing this now… kinda makes me feel like you’ve used me and are ready to walk away.”