“The most beautiful
day of my life and I end up vomiting.” He wasn’t listening. He pressed me against the wall and started
to kiss me, his hips pushing into mine, his arms about to lift me off the ground. <…> I could spend the rest of my life like this: with him, at
night, in Rome, my eyes totally shut, one leg coiled around his. I thought of coming back here in the
weeks or months to come—for this was our spot.