Dante’s POV

The sun sank further in the sky, throwing long golden rays across the yard. Dante stayed on the porch, with Lia still resting against him, their fingers gently interlaced. It was a straightforward matter—this calm, this tranquility—but it was something he doubted he’d ever adapt to. Not because he didn’t desire it. However, a part of him still doubted that he could attain it. Lia breathed out, moving a little. “What is on your mind?” Dante looked at her, then ...