"Dolcezza, then," he corrects himself, and he kisses her knuckles again, and then once more for good measure. He doesn't care how sweaty her palms are.

She's lovely, and it's amusing to watch her tumble over this moment that is not at all something he could have planned for that morning, but he knows it is right to have said it.

"I think you're happy," he admits. "But I will survive if you do not feel the same, Stephanie. My heart will mend."