Page 180 of My Italian Love Affair

And this time?

She doesn’t run.

Chapter Forty-Five

Daphne

The apartment is quiet when I get home, but the silence does nothing to calm the noise in my head.

I drop my bag by the door, kick off my shoes and collapse onto the sofa.

I press my fingers to my lips where his kiss still lingers like a phantom sensation.

It was quick. Soft. Barely even there.

And yet it’s all I can think about.

After a few minutes of torturing myself with memories of the last few weeks, I reach for my phone from the coffee table and pull up Priya’s contact. She’s probably sipping rosé on some picturesque beach in the south of France right now, enjoying her holiday, but I need someone to talk to.

Someone who knows me.

Someone who isn’t just another journalist who might report straight back to Mark.

I hit the video call button. It rings... and rings... and rings. No answer.

"Figures," I mutter, tossing the phone onto the cushionbeside me.

A few minutes later, the phone vibrates with an incoming video call. Priya's tanned face appears on the screen, hair swept up beneath oversized sunglasses.

"Sorry!" she shouts over the sound of distant music and chatter. "I had to sneak out of the beach club. I was halfway through a cocktail the size of my head, so this better be juicy."

I let out a breathless laugh.

"Oh, it’s juicy."

"God, you look stressed. Is it Mark?" she asks, her smile faltering.

"Partly. He was awful at the match tonight. Did his usual ringleader routine with the other idiots. They were making gross jokes the entire time, and I swear he was looking at me like..." I trail off, shivering slightly. "Like hehates me."

Priya’s expression darkens.

"He’s a prick, Daph. But you knew that already."

"Yeah, but tonight it felt different.Worse."

"And no one said anything?"

"A couple of other reporters looked uncomfortable, but… no. No one said a word."

I pick at a loose thread on one of my cushions.

"Honestly, I feel like I’m walking on eggshells. I can’t exactly talk to anyone at the office about it. He's the top dog there - it’ll just get back to him."

"He’s an absolutedick," Priya mutters. "You know this isn't on you, right? He's just threatened by how good you are."

"Yeah, well, tell Richard that. He basically implied Mark's been doing all my work."

Priya's eyes widen behind her sunglasses.

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