You realized you loved him, but it was too late a long time ago.

Dante wasn’t oblivious, no matter how much it might seem that way sometimes. He noticed the little things: the way her gaze lingered on him a second too long, the way her voice softened when she said his name, and, yes, the way Evelyn always managed to turn the spotlight on herself. But he dismissed it. He had to. Because for the first time in years, he thought he’d found something real—something that made his heart beat just a little faster.

And wasn’t that ironic? Evelyn, with her too-perfect smile and her habit of casually mentioning the price tags of things she wanted, was probably the least real person he’d ever met. But Dante didn’t see it, couldn’t see it, because he’d spent so long chasing the idea of love that he couldn’t bring himself to question it when it finally showed up.

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