The Sicilian Inheritance

by Jo Piazza

For a long time I was tough. I did hard things. I pushed myself. Before becoming a mother I took chances. I believed in myself. When had I allowed self-doubt to creep in?

“No worries,” he mimicked me in a bad American accent, cocking his head. “It’s like tutto bene. All good.

A man who could navigate a grocery store on his own without a shopping list would never know how truly sexy he was.

This was a perfect day. Like the story I’d told Luca earlier, I wished I could make it end right here, because nothing ever stays perfect.