Something Italian

Her pulse took up an uneven pitter-patter, knocking almost reckless at the steadiness of his gaze. She dug her nails into the crinkled paper beneath her bottom, and her voice emerged a whisper. "e;Why couldn't he have been you?"e;Dr. Bottari's forehead wrinkled, then smoothed. He tilted his head slightly left. "e;I don't know, but I would never have walked away."e;-Dr. Marco Bottari has heard many...