Page 19 of Prince of Queens

"That's a good sign!" Sofia responds. "Listen, Gia. I know it's complicated with our families and everything. I know I told you to stay away from him. But if that’s true about the feud, and you really like him, give it a chance. Just be careful, okay? And keep me updated!"

I smile, grateful for my sister's support. "Thanks, Sof. I will. Love you."

"Love you too. Now get some sleep!"

I set my phone aside and crawl into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. As I lie there in the darkness, I can still smell Dominic's cologne on my skin. I close my eyes, remembering the way he looked at me, the way he touched me…

But then I remember him checking his watch, the abrupt way he left. The doubt creeps back in, gnawing at the edges of my contentment.

What am I doing? Getting involved with Dominic Esposito is dangerous in more ways than one. Not just because of our families' history, but because of who he is. What he does. I thinkabout the whispers I've heard, the rumors about his business dealings. Can I really be with someone like that?

And yet... the way he looked at me. The way he kissed me. It felt real. It felt like more than just a game. There was a vulnerability in his eyes when he asked to see me again, a softness that seemed at odds with his tough exterior.

I toss and turn, my mind replaying every moment of our evening together. The way he laughed at my jokes over dinner, the intense look in his eyes when we discussed ending the family feud. The gentleness of his touch contrasted with the passion of his kisses.

As I drift off to sleep, my mind is a swirl of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Part of me is excited for tomorrow, eager to see Dominic again. But another part is terrified of what might happen if I let myself fall for him. Of the consequences that could come from getting involved with someone like Dominic Esposito.

As the morning light filters through my curtains, I wake with a mix of anticipation and nervousness churning in my stomach. I glance at my phone, half-expecting to see a message from Dominic, but there's nothing. Just the usual notifications and a good morning text from Sofia.

I try to push away the nagging doubts as I set up my easel. Painting has always been my solace, my way of processing emotions, and today is no different. I squeeze out bright yellows, vibrant oranges, and cheerful pinks onto my palette, determined to channel positivity into my work.

As my brush dances across the canvas, I lose myself in the act of creation. The painting takes shape – a joyful burst ofcolor, reminiscent of a summer sunrise. It's hopeful, optimistic, everything I want to feel about this budding... whatever it is with Dominic.

Time flies, and before I know it, I need to start getting ready. I shower quickly, washing away the paint splatters and the lingering scent of Dominic from the night before. As I stand in front of my closet, I debate what to wear. I settle on a flowy sundress, perfect for a lunch date and a potential walk in the park.

I arrive at the restaurant right on time, my heart fluttering with anticipation. I send Dominic a quick text: "I'm here." I wait for the immediate buzz of a reply, but nothing comes.

Shrugging it off – he's probably driving – I approach the hostess. "Hi, I'm meeting Dominic Esposito. Table for two?"

The hostess looks confused, checking her list. "I'm sorry, I don't have a reservation under that name. Are you sure it's for today?"

A small knot of unease forms in my stomach. "Yes, I'm sure. Could you check again, please?"

She does, but the result is the same. No reservation.

"It's okay," I say, forcing a smile. "Can I get a table for two anyway? He's probably just running late."

The hostess nods sympathetically and leads me to a small table near the window. I sit down, my eyes constantly flicking between the door and my silent phone.

I order a glass of water, then a glass of wine. I check my phone obsessively, refreshing my messages, making sure it hasn't somehow lost signal. But there's nothing from Dominic.

The minutes turn into an hour. The sympathetic glances from the waitstaff are becoming unbearable. I've long since finished my wine, and the bread basket is empty. Still, no Dominic.

As the lunch crowd thins out, I finally have to face the truth. He's not coming. I've been stood up.

Humiliation burns through me, followed quickly by anger. How could I have been so stupid? To think that someone like Dominic Esposito would actually be interested in more than just a one-night stand?

I signal for the check, my hand shaking slightly as I sign the receipt. As I walk out of the restaurant, I hold my head high, refusing to let anyone see how deeply this has affected me.

Once I'm on the street, I let out a shaky breath. The beautiful day that had seemed so full of promise now feels like it's mocking me. I start walking, no real destination in mind, just needing to be in motion.

My phone buzzes, and for a split second, hope flares in my chest. But it's just Sofia, checking in.

"How's the date going?" her text reads.

I stop walking, staring at the message. How do I even begin to explain this?

Finally, I type out a response: "He didn't show. I waited for over an hour, Sofia. I feel like such an idiot."

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