Chapter 12

That felt like… he avoided me because he was embarrassed.

His pretty boy was inherently a quiet, shy person, so a reaction like that made perfect sense. They had never fought or stayed apart this long before, so maybe Rhys was simply wondering how best to initiate a reconciliation.

In that case, the older partner had no choice but to swallow his pride and approach him first.

Taking as a harsh lesson the days he had bitterly spent regretting missing his chance to speak up at the café, Dante decided he would track Rhys down the moment he finished checking in. His underlying anxiety over Rhys’s secretive, mysterious side hadn’t vanished, but compared to living a reality with no Rhys in it at all, that felt like a minor issue. Somehow, no matter what it took, he had to hold on to him.

His face now significantly brighter than when he had first entered the terminal, Dante approached the desk and met the gaze of the employee looking up at him. She was a voluptuous woman with charming, tightly curled dark-brown hair. Before he had met Rhys, Dante’s physical taste had usually run precisely in this direction.

Wait… this isn’t the economy counter. I got in the completely wrong line and just stayed here. What do I do?

After a split second of panic, Dante quickly smoothed it over and smiled. His thick, dark brows curved softly, and his tawny eyes, beautifully tinged with gold, formed a clean, refreshing arc.

“Hello. Good morning,” he said smoothly.

At the picture-perfect smile of a handsome man who looked like he had stepped straight off the set of a high-end espresso commercial, the employee’s professional demeanor melted, and she answered with a radiant smile of her own.

“Good morning.”

Although he had successfully ruined every serious romantic relationship he had ever been in, Dante had always been incredibly popular with women. Perhaps because of the Italian blood coursing through his veins, he had behaved since childhood like someone who naturally, effortlessly knew how to win a woman’s favor. The exact instant he sensed the employee’s guard crumble at his fresh smile, Dante asked politely, tilting his head slightly.

“I seem to have come to the wrong counter by mistake. Would it still be possible for me to check in here? If it’s a problem, I can absolutely go back.”

When he glanced back toward the economy line, the queue had swelled significantly. If he had to go back, wait all over again, and check in there, he felt entirely certain he would lose Rhys in the labyrinth of the airport forever. Fortunately, the employee before him proved to be as kind-hearted as she was beautiful.

“This counter is originally reserved for passengers who purchased business class,” she explained, her voice dropping into a softer register. “But there’s no one waiting on this side right now, so it’s completely all right.”

“Thank you very much.”

When Dante let the tips of his handsome brows droop slightly in a display of sincere gratitude, he felt the agent’s remaining professional guard dissolve entirely.

“Are you having a pleasant morning?” she asked, leaning in slightly.

“Thanks to you asking, I am now,” Dante replied.

Following a charm-offensive habit ingrained over long years, Dante was already holding the attendant’s eyes, leaning his upper body slightly forward, and listening to her with his entire physical presence. His voice, too, had naturally lowered into a warm, resonant, bedroom register.

“I’m relieved to hear that. Ah, I’ve been rambling too long,” she chuckled softly, checking his passport. “I’ll stop bothering you and let you get to your flight soon.”

The longer Dante spoke, the deeper the attendant’s smile grew. Seeing her seductive lips curve smoothly upward lifted Dante’s deflated mood for a brief moment. Ever since meeting Rhys, he had long since stopped viewing anyone else as a romantic or sexual possibility, but a beautiful woman’s genuine smile was always a pleasure to behold. It was—how should he put it? Yes. Like feeling instantly better after breathing in a gust of crisp, clean air. It was simply a natural law.

“There’s no way dealing with a passenger like you could be a bother.”

“You’re kind.”

The attendant’s demeanor shifted as well. Straightening up, curiosity sparkling in her eyes, she pulled her chair closer to the desk, leaning in a way that subtly accentuated her voluptuous figure. Dante held out his passport. As she took it, her fingertips nearly brushed against his. They easily could have touched, but physical contact with anyone who wasn’t Rhys felt strange now, and he instinctively recoiled without meaning to.

Meanwhile, the ground staff employee at the adjacent station, who had been openly listening to their conversation, glanced over at him. She was an elegant, middle-aged blonde, and the gentle lines etched around her eyes left a distinct impression on him. To Dante, a woman’s wrinkles were beautiful marks of wisdom.

When their eyes met, Dante offered her a soft smile. The older woman responded with a warm, pleased look of her own. At that exact moment, the curly-haired attendant’s hands paused over her keyboard. Tilting her head slightly, she locked eyes with Dante.

“There are duplicate reservations under your name,” she noted, sounding puzzled. “One was created just yesterday, and the other was confirmed some time ago. There’s one business-class seat and one economy-class seat… Did you happen to book twice by mistake?”

For a moment, Dante was utterly stunned by the words business-class seat. That meant Rhys had left Dante’s original seat—the one Dante had assumed his ex must have canceled weeks ago—exactly as it was. In sheer disbelief, Dante sought clarification.

“Could one of them have been canceled already, but it’s still showing up in your system?”

The attendant tapped away at her keyboard for a moment, then shook her head. “No, it’s definitely an active duplicate reservation. Since boarding hasn’t closed yet, I can cancel one for you right now. Which one would you like refunded?”

His heart, frozen solid by the unexpected reality of the situation, suddenly began to hammer against his ribs. Rhys had not only shown up at the airport, but he had left Dante’s seat entirely untouched. The sheer weight of that realization made Dante’s chest flutter like mad. Stripping away his roaring emotions and judging the matter as rationally as possible, it became almost certain: Rhys had not forgotten him.

Barely managing to suppress the corners of his mouth as his cool facade threatened to crumble, Dante answered without a second of hesitation. “Please cancel the economy seat.”

The middle-aged attendant beside them, still tuned into the exchange, chimed in with a knowing smile, “So you weren’t in the wrong line after all.”

“It seems I wasn’t,” Dante replied, smiling out of habit as he waited for the ticket to be issued.

In the past, he would have effortlessly spun that moment into lighthearted small talk, but ever since breaking up with Rhys, interacting with strangers had lost its luster. Especially right now, when his entire soul was screaming to finish check-in and find Rhys as quickly as possible, every shred of his attention was anchored elsewhere.

“Do you have any checked baggage?” the desk attendant asked.

Dante flashed a clean smile, answering quickly in a pleasant, low rumble. “No.”

“It seems you’ll be in Rome only briefly, then.”

It was a probing, personal question, but Dante was too desperate to escape the counter to care about boundaries. He simply answered honestly. “Yes. I’ll be back this weekend.”

“Is that so?”

The two attendants exchanged a quick, knowing glance. When the older colleague gave a subtle nod, sending some unreadable signal, the employee helping Dante quickly scribbled something on the back of the newly printed ticket with a colored pencil. She then handed it across the desk along with his passport.

“Boarding begins by 12:50 p.m. Please proceed to Gate 8. The lounge is located right near the entrance. Have a comfortable flight, Mr. Bellini.”

“Thank you for your help,” Dante said. He lowered his gaze briefly to read the name tag pinned to her uniform. Sierra. Good. A pretty name, as kind as the heart that had allowed him to reach Rhys without a grueling wait. “Have a good day, Sierra.”

When he extended his hand in gratitude, their fingertips brushed lightly before he could pull away. Securing his passport and ticket, the attendant flashed him a lovely, brilliant smile and offered a gentle wave. It was the kind of look that could have bewitched any man under normal circumstances. Yet, Dante’s heart didn’t stir in the slightest. Instead, the fleeting touch left a lingering sense of awkwardness on his skin.

After a moment of hesitation, he gripped the handle of his carry-on, wheeled it around with a soft rumble, and headed straight for the restroom. Only after he had washed his hands thoroughly with soap and water did that inexplicable discomfort finally wash away. He dried his hands meticulously, then cautiously pulled the ticket from where it was tucked inside his passport to examine it.

Right below the word Priority was a seat number Dante knew he could never have afforded on his own in this lifetime. It was the exact number burned into his memory.

5A.

The business-class window seat Rhys had reserved for him.

Rhys, my pretty boy, Dante thought, a bittersweet ache blooming in his chest. How could you come up with something this adorable?

Trying desperately not to get ahead of himself, Dante forced his expression to harden as he stared at the boarding pass. Rhys had said very clearly in front of Jorge that they were broken up. He had ignored Dante’s frantic messages for two solid months. He had even just turned away and pretended Dante was a ghost in the terminal—yet he had left this ticket completely intact.

This was a signal. It had to be a reconciliation signal Rhys had left behind.

There was no other logical way to interpret it; Rhys wanted them to continue this trip as planned and heal their rift. It felt as if Rhys were subtly waving his fingertips, beckoning Dante to take this ticket, follow him, and speak to him. A profound sense of relief washed through Dante, melting away the crippling anxiety that had suffocated him for the last two months.