I took a deep breath before placing my finger on the doorbell. 

You don't have to do this. You can make up an excuse to why you couldn't come.

Or 

You can just be an adult and apologise to the man. It wasn't his fault he looked like your dead husband. 

I sighed and pressed down on the doorbell. If Valdo and Jakobia knew him enough to invite him to dinner then maybe it wouldn't be the last time seeing him. I might as well apologise and get over myself. 

Jakobia opened the door with a smile on her face. "You're here! I thought you wouldn't make it." she pulled me in a hug. 

"I'm sorry for being late. I was waiting for Alessandro's babysitter to arrive." I lied. I spent ten minutes in the parking lot trying to come up with an excuse, and I couldn't come up with a good one. I had to use all my strength to come up to the apartment. 

She pulled away and offered me a smile, "It's okay. As long as you're here. That's all that matters. Valdo was just about to put the potatoes on the stove, so we have plenty of time left." she held my arms, pulling me in the apartment. She closed the door behind us. "I'm going to go help Valdo. Why don't you make yourself at home?"

She pushed me in the living room then disappeared into the kitchen. 

 I let out a sigh of relief when I noticed there was no one in the room. He wasn't here yet. I guess I'm not the one who's late then. At least I have time to calm my nerves before he arrives. 

 I started walking over to the couch only to stop when I noticed the figure on the balcony. 

He was here. 

My heart jolted. 

Unlike last night, he was wearing an eyeglass. His hands were folded together as he leaned on the railing, looking at the city view in awe. He was wearing dark jeans and Tshirt, clothes that Gabriele never wore. Gabriele always wore suits. He always had to look in control so persons could take him seriously. The only way he thought he could be taken seriously was by always wearing suits. The only exception was when he was at home; then he'd wear his marina and shorts. 

He must have felt my gaze on him because he turned around, his grey eyes meeting my hazel ones. He smiled and moved away from the railing. He entered the apartment, closing the door behind him.

Why was he smiling at me? I was so mean to him yesterday. 

"Zuria," he said, walking up to me. "Nice to see you again." He didn't look like Gabriele with the glasses on it as much as he did without. The glasses didn't take away his looks; He looked devastatingly handsome in it. " I apologise for the way I acted last night. I wasn't feeling well." 

He shrugged and gave me a friendly smile, "That's okay. I understand. We all have bad days, don't we?" 

I forced a smile, "Yes. I guess we do." 

He pointed at the couches, "Why don't we take a seat?"

I nodded and did as he suggested. He took a seat in front of me. He leaned back in the couch and crossed his legs, another thing Gabriele would have never done. He entwined his hands and placed them on his knee. I couldn't help but look at his knuckles and fingers. There were no signs of tattoos or that any was ever there. 

Each of Gabriele's finger had a roman numeral and above his knuckles were different shapes and arrows. Even to this day, I had no idea what they had meant, and I will never know. 

I removed my eyes from his hands and stared at my painted nails as we sat in silence. 

"Why don't we get to know each other while we wait for the food?" 

I lift my head and look at him, then nodded, "Sure. Why not?" The more I looked at him was, the more I compared him to Gabriele, not that they had anything in comparison. 

He smiled, "So Zuria, what do you do for a living?"

"I work at the Center with Hannah." He didn't need to know anything else. 

His face lid up, "Oh, Hannah. She's a lovely woman."

His face was so much like Gabriele's, and yet all his words and actions were the opposite. The only time Gabriele was ever this excited was in bed, and even then he was never THIS excited. 

"She is." I agreed. "So what about you? What are you?"

"I'm a lecturer at Manhattan College.  I teach Economics." He answered proudly. 

"Oh." It wasn't the answer; I thought I'd get. I was expecting something similar to Valdo's profession; after all, they were friends.  He didn't look like a teacher. He was too handsome, too much like Gabriele. 

He chuckled. "What's that for?"

I shrugged, "You don't look like a college lecturer."

He grinned and fixed his glasses, "Really? What do I look like?"

My dead criminal husband.

I shrugged again, "Oh, I don't know. Just not a lecturer. How long have you been teaching?"

"I worked in the field for nine years; then, I started teaching two years ago."

"What did you work as?"

"A Financial Risk Analyst. That's how I met Valdo."

I nod. "So you've been working at Manhattan College for two years."

He shook his head, "No. I only moved to New York a month ago to start the new school year."

That explains his sudden pop-up. Wanting to know more, I asked. "Where were you living before?"

"I lived in Seattle, and I was teaching at Seattle University, my alma mater. What's yours?"

"I never went to college," I answered truthfully. It wasn't any to be ashamed of. College isn't for everyone, and it wasn't for me. By the time I was eleven, I was already an expert programmer. I didn't need to go to college to teach what I already knew. 

"Oh." He responded. "Can I ask you why?"

Telling people about my past wasn't a strong suit for me. 

"I never did my SATs or anything like that. I stopped going to school when I was fifteen."

He looked at me, shocked, "Really?" I could tell by the look on his face he wanted to ask more, but he kept his thoughts to himself and asked a different question. "How did you meet Hannah?"

"I heard about the DFSM from a friend, and since I am a single mother, it was a good way to take care of my child while socialising." After Gabriele died, I didn't have anyone to socialise with except his family, and they weren't the best at it. I was lonely, and I needed company. 

"You're a mother?" he asked, surprised. 

I nodded, "Yes. I have a son. Do you have any children?"

He shook his head, "No, but I'd like to have a few in the future."

"Are you single?" I couldn't stop myself from asking. 

He smiled, "As it happens, yes. I am." he looked down at my hands then back at me, "You wear a ring yet you said you're a single mother."

I touched the ring that Gabriele had placed on my finger the day of our wedding. "My husband died." I couldn't find the strength to remove it.

He frowned. "I'm sorry. It must have been awful to lose your husband at such a young age. I'm guessing you're around twenty-three."

"It was and no. " Awful was an understatement. I was devastated especially when I found out that I was pregnant. "I'm twenty-six. How old are you?" Although he looked like Gabriele, I couldn't put an age to his face, after all, Gabriele never looked his age. 

"I'm thirty-two." So, he was four years younger than Gabriele. "Yesterday was my birthday, actually."

My eyes widen, "Yesterday." I sighed. "I must have ruin your day. I'm sorry."

He shrugged, "It's no big deal. I'm not one of those people who go crazy on their birthday."

"Really?" I couldn't help but smile, "Me either." The day of my birth was the day I was abandon at a hospital. There was nothing for me to celebrate. When I got married to Gabriele, we started celebrating the day we met because that's when my life truly began.  

He smiled, "So we have something in common."

I returned his smile, "I guess we do."