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Every day, every afternoon she woke up, Sofia told herself she was lucky. There had been a time when she fooled herself into thinking that her old life was easier—and it was, in its own special way. She tried not to let herself feel nostalgic for simpler times, though, focusing instead on the future ahead of her. She stared at herself in the mirror as she fixed her hair up, cropped short like so many of the beauties she fiercely envied on the streets. Cutting her hair this way was supposed to be an act of rebellion, symbolizing her newfound freedom. She was still deciding whether or not it suited her.
Sofia had left quite a lot behind. After the untimely death of her husband, she’d sold everything of value and used it for a fresh start. She moved away from the small town she called home, no note left behind for any family or friends to follow her. She was going to be a self-made woman, she’d decided. She’d never rely on anyone else again. She stood on her own two feet, she got a driver’s license, and she made an honest living, working at a bar near her apartment. This was her new and improved life, and she was never going to make the same mistakes again.
As she entered the bar that evening for her shift, she saw the usual faces, both coworkers and patrons alike. The bar was part of an upper-class, highly ornate hotel; still, it had its own entrance separate from the hotel itself, making it a typical haunt for those who could afford to drink themselves to death in a place like this. The golden lights, the shiny floors, and the beautifully carved furniture had all dazzled Sofia when she first started working here. Over time, however, even the most beautiful things will start to show signs of use. The counter was covered in scratches, bits of wood were often chipped off of the chairs and tables, and even the glasses she so carefully polished seemed to shine less and less as time went on. Sometimes, she liked to imagine herself locking the doors to the bar one final time, never to let anyone else in and sully this work of art ever again.
She was just a bartender, though, trying to make a living in the city. She had no authority to do such a thing to this place. So, she took her place diligently behind the counter, letting the morning and afternoon bartender take his leave. Sometimes, she envied him, knowing his shift wasn’t nearly as busy as hers; still, though, she couldn’t help but admit to herself that she got a kick out of people watching at a place like this, and the most interesting activity happened during the evening and night.
Towards the beginning of her shift, while the bar was still relatively calm, a man in an expensive suit and tie sat down at the counter, placing a briefcase on the floor beside his stool. He removed his hat to run his fingers through his hair as he sighed deeply, nodding at Sofia as she turned her attention to him.
“What can I get for you?” Sofia asked him with a polite smile.
“Just some whiskey. Neat, please.” The man answered as he settled in his seat.
Sofia poured him a glass, sliding it in front of him. She tried to return to her task of moving fresh bottles of vodka from a crate on the floor to the shelf behind her, only to be stopped as the man cleared his throat to catch her attention again.
“I can’t help but notice...” He said, a smile spreading on his face as he looked at her closely, “you don’t seem to have a ring of any kind. Is a pretty gal like you really not spoken for?”
“Oh, right.” Sofia said as she touched her ring finger, where her old wedding band used to sit. “No, I am actually married. I just take it off before I come to work.”
The man raised his hands in mock defeat. “My mistake.” He said, giving her a polite nod before he began to sip at his whiskey.
Sofia counted herself lucky tonight, seeing that this particular man wasn’t pushing it. She wasn’t always so fortunate. It was certainly one of her least favorite parts of the job, drunk men thinking they had any chance with her trying to ask when her shift ended, where she lived, if they could buy her a drink—all the usual bullshit. There were tactics to squeezing herself out of these situations, and although she couldn’t always count on them working, they still got her through most nights.
Her husband had been a more respectable man, before he passed, making him a tolerable candidate to spend her life with; still, despite that, she’d ended up finding petty reasons to dislike him. Perhaps that came with the territory of forcing feelings that were never there in the first place. What made these men think they could do any better? She’d wonder to herself. She estimated their bravado came from approximately 70% insecurity and 30% alcohol.
The bar was slammed later on in the evening. Sofia had no time to pay attention to details of any customers, other than spotting key, defining features to remember each patron’s tab. The scrawny man in a sloppy, pinstripe suit at the end of the counter asked for another gin and tonic. Another man, already drunk, had thrown his blazer to the floor and demanded more vodka. A very sharp-looking couple sat down, a beer for the man and water for the lady. On and on it went, Sofia’s mind running a mile a minute until one woman made it all come to a screeching halt.
She was a little taller than average height—still, not even close to Sofia’s height, even as she wore the flattest shoes she could find. She had striking thick blond hair, curled into luxurious waves that brushed across her bare shoulders tantalizingly. Her lips were painted a bright red, begging for attention Sofia was afraid to give. She had a light jacket draped over her forearm, plainly displaying her long, flowing dress that shined under the bar lights. Sofia’s mouth felt dry as the woman approached the counter, her bright blue eyes practically boring into Sofia.
“I’ll have a vodka, please.” The woman announced in a thick Russian accent as she leaned against the counter.
“...Yeah. Yes, of course.” Sofia fumbled, turning to get her drink. She poured a generous helping of vodka into a glass to give to the woman, sliding it gently across the countertop.
The woman picked up the glass, her gaze trailing towards the door leading back into the hotel as she took a small sip. Sofia was lured into a false sense of security—with the woman’s attention elsewhere, she was free to stare at her as much as she liked. She looked pensive; the creases forming in her skin were on clear display as she furrowed her brow with a deep frown. To Sofia’s mind, it made her look mature, self-sufficient—it also told her there was likely a great deal of worry in her life.
Sofia’s attention was ripped away by demanding customers, forcing her to plunge back into the grind of work. She lost track of the beautiful blond woman fairly quickly, but she was never completely out of her mind. She scolded herself silently for letting her mind run rampant with ideas about another woman this way. It certainly hadn’t ended well the last time she allowed herself to indulge in her fantasies of a woman she’d met. Never again, she reminded herself firmly.
It was a little while later when she spotted the woman again, sitting at a table with two men. Her vodka had already been drained, an imprint of her lipstick left behind on the lip of the glass. The two men were sharply dressed, talking intensely between each other as the woman stared boredly out the nearby window, her chin rested in her palm and her legs crossed underneath the table. As Sofia wondered who these two men were to her, she couldn’t help but notice the intricate, shining wedding ring on her finger. Certainly, one of them was likely to be her husband; of course, a wealthy and gorgeous woman like her wasn’t likely to be single, Sofia thought.
The woman turned back to the men for a moment, something one of them said clearly catching her attention, before she picked up her glass and swirled the final droplets of alcohol around the bottom. Her eyes landed on Sofia, and suddenly, their eyes were locked on one another. Sofia couldn’t find it in her to even try to fool herself or the woman into thinking she hadn’t been staring. The woman’s gaze was intense, practically freezing Sofia into place, as if she were Medusa rendering her very flesh into stone. A light smile ghosted across the woman’s lips for a few moments before she stood, carrying her empty glass back to the counter.
“More vodka, if you would.” The woman said, setting the glass down on the countertop.
Sofia accepted the glass, pulling it towards herself to put in the bin to be washed later. She grabbed a clean one next, pouring the woman her drink and sliding it across the counter. Before she could pull her hand away, the woman was already reaching for it, her fingertips gracing across Sofia’s. It was a brief flash of contact, but it still lit Sofia’s skin ablaze. Sofia swallowed hard as she curled her fingers into loose fists behind the counter, watching the woman saunter back to her table. She looked to the woman’s used glass, picking it up to put it in the bin where it belonged; she hesitated, though, back turned to the rest of the bar as she held it cautiously in both hands. Holding it closer to her, trying to hide her actions from the night’s customers, she ran her finger over the lipstick left behind on the glass.
Then, Sofia forced herself to place the glass in the bin and focus on work again. It was a long night, both for herself and clearly for the woman, as well. The men she was with were engaged in a heated discussion; more men came and went, joining them at their table before walking away in a hurry. Whatever they were doing, Sofia thought, it certainly seemed tense. As the night was drawing to a close, one of the men approached the counter, pulling out his wallet and leafing through his money inside.
“How much for the vodka my wife over there had?” The man asked distractedly.
Sofia’s hands shook as she rang the man up. She had no reason to be nervous—unless he was some sort of mind reader, she mused, but that was as unlikely as ever. After she gave the man his change, he gave her a nod of thanks and turned away, back to his wife and the other man. The men put their hats back on, the husband leaning in to give his wife a quick, distracted kiss before they left through the exterior door, out into the pouring rain. The woman, on the other hand, lingered at the table for a few more moments before walking slowly to the side door leading further into the hotel.
Sofia was certain that would be the last she saw of her. A significant part of her was relieved by this fact; she didn’t need to invite trouble into her life by getting close to women who stirred up such strong feelings in her.
It wasn’t too long after the woman left that Sofia was closing up shop. With some help from other hotel staff, they wiped the tables, countertop, and floors down, cleaned and stowed the remaining glasses, took a quick inventory, and locked everything up. The other staff helping her were all grave shift, taking their leave to continue their work elsewhere as Sofia took up her jacket and bag to go home. She stepped out onto the street through the bar’s exterior door, one of her coworkers locking the door behind her as she adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder and started walking.
Sofia hadn’t even cleared the doors that led into the hotel when someone caught her eye, making her freeze in her tracks. She turned, finding the woman from the bar leaned against the wall beside the hotel doors. She held a cigarette between her forefinger and middle finger, lipstick staining the end of it as she exhaled a light plume of smoke. Their eyes were locked again, as if magnetically attracted to one another.
“Hey, you.” The woman greeted, that tantalizing hint of a smile spreading across her lips.
“...Hi.” Sofia replied meekly.
“Going home to your husband?” The woman asked, her eyes trailing over Sofia slowly and deliberately.
Sofia flushed under her gaze, gripping the strap of her purse tightly. “...No.” She said, clearing her throat. “I’m not married.”
“I wish I could be so fortunate.” The woman said with a low chuckle before nodding at the street uncovered by the awning over the hotel doors, where rain pummeled the pavement like it was personal. “You don’t want to be walking home through all this, do you? My husband is out for the night. Why don’t you stay dry and come keep me company?”
Sofia stared at the woman for a moment, shocked by the offer. She found herself nodding, then, well before she could even process the potential consequences.
“...That’s...that’s a very kind offer.” Sofia said, glancing at the rain beyond the awning. “It sounds very nice. Thank you.”
The woman pushed herself off the wall she was leaning against, opening the hotel door and holding it for Sofia. Sofia thanked her as she entered the hotel lobby, the woman trailing after her leisurely.
“What’s your name?” The woman asked as they walked towards the elevators. Sofia was a fast walker, but this woman was more intent to take her time, making it awkward for Sofia to try and match her pace.
“I’m Sofia.” She answered. “You?”
The woman took a long drag of her cigarette before she replied. “Katya.”
Katya. Katya, Katya, Katya. Sofia could mull that name over forever—a beautiful name for a beautiful woman. They paused at the elevators, climbing into one and standing patiently as it carried them up and away from the bustling ground level. Sofia felt dizzy as they ascended; was it because her heart was racing, or because of the sudden altitude change?
At the top floor, the elevator slowed to a gentle stop, doors gliding open to reveal the luxurious halls lined with sturdy, wooden double doors. Katya took the lead, guiding Sofia to a set of doors around the corner from the elevator. The soft carpet muted the previously definitive clacks of Katya’s high heels, as if even the hotel itself had decided to let this meeting between them remain a secret to the rest of the world, shielding Sofia from the horrifying thought that her private feelings for Katya may become public knowledge.
Katya unlocked the doors to her hotel room, pushing one side open to let Sofia through. Once they were both inside, Katya shut the door behind them, certain to lock it before she moved further into the room. Sofia had seen the luxury of the rooms in this hotel before—sometimes, as much as she hated it, she’d be called in to help with housekeeping here and there on her days off—but never had she been in one of the penthouse suites. It was gorgeous, like a movie set; the sitting room had plush couches facing one another, but Sofia wanted to turn one of them towards the floor-length windows overlooking the city. She stood there for a few moments, mesmerized by the luxury as Katya removed her shoes and plodded to the kitchenette. Before she knew it, Katya was placing a glass of wine in Sofia’s hand.
“Oh, thank you.” Sofia said politely, snapped out of her trance. Katya gave her a smile over her shoulder as she walked to one of the couches, laying across it languidly with her own glass.
“You served me alcohol in my time of need. I figured I should return the favor.” Katya said before taking a deep sip of her drink.
Sofia sat lightly on the edge of the other couch, feeling out of place as she sipped from her own glass. “Well, I served you because it’s my job.” She reminded Katya with a small laugh. “I appreciate the gesture anyway, though.”
Katya only shrugged with an amused smile as she set her glass down on the coffee table between their seats, tracing her finger gracefully around the lip of the glass. Sofia’s eyes, drawn to the coffee table by her mesmerizing movements, then caught on something sat in the center of the table. It was a small box, lined with wooden sides and a glass front to proudly display what was stored inside: a butterfly, pinned perfectly in place to the foam underneath it. Its pure white wings were spread out for observation, lines of black running across its wingspan, as if it were just a pencil sketch.
“Wow.” Sofia breathed, hand hovering over the box. She wanted to pick it up, hold it closer for more thorough inspection; she stopped herself just short of touching it, though, afraid she would damage it. “This is beautiful.”
“Go ahead, look all you want.” Katya invited, nodding down at the box. “That’s a black-veined white. It’s simple, but one of my favorites.”
Sofia gently picked it up to stare at it in awe. “You have more?”
“That’s my hope, anyway.” Katya said with a sigh, picking up her glass again for a deep sip. “I packed as many of my favorites as I could in my own luggage. It’s hard to say if the rest will survive the journey from home.”
Sofia set the box down carefully, intent to lessen the chances of her destroying something clearly very precious to Katya. “So, are you, um...are you in the process of moving here to Italy, then?”
Katya closed her eyes and nodded slowly.
“That’s a pretty big change.” Sofia commented. She remembered feeling a little shell-shocked, moving from the countryside to the city; she couldn’t imagine how Katya must feel, moving to another country altogether. “What brought the move on?”
Katya took her time answering, finishing off her cigarette and putting it out in the ashtray on the coffee table. Smoke surrounded her in a haze as she exhaled, making it feel almost dream-like to look at her. Sofia half expected to wake up at any second, all of this just a wonderful and terrifying dream that would stick out in her mind forever.
“Business.” Katya finally said vaguely. “It’s always business.”
Sofia entertained the thought of asking what type of business led them to Italy, but something about the expression Katya held on her face made Sofia’s voice stick in her throat. The vagueness, the weight with which she said it, the creases on her brow deepening, and the way her eyes shut tighter when she answered—all of it, Sofia suddenly knew this woman was involved in something better left unspoken between the two of them.
“Enough about myself.” Katya murmured dismissively, turning her gaze to Sofia with a light smile. “Tell me about you. Tell me about Sofia.”
“Oh.” Sofia said with surprise. She stammered for a moment before giving up, laughing quietly as she spoke up again. “I don’t know what to say. What would you like to know?”
Katya asked Sofia all sorts of questions—her hobbies, where she grew up, what her childhood was like—questions that nobody else in the city had taken the time to ask her. Sofia felt more and more comfortable as they fell into a deep conversation, drinking more expensive wine and smoking expensive cigarettes. Sofia took off her shoes at some point to curl up on the couch, quickly moving from a comfortable buzz to full-on drunk; Sofia suspected Katya was faring about the same. Katya bent one of her knees as she laid across the couch, her sleek dress slipping a bit to reveal a tantalizing look at her smooth, muscular calves. Sofia cleared her throat forcefully, turning to look out the window instead as her heartrate skyrocketed.
“I like your dress.” Sofia blurted out, keeping her eyes firmly away from Katya as she tried to steady herself.
“Thank you.” Katya replied, clearly pleased by the compliment. “I like your look, as well. I envy a woman who can pull off overalls.”
Sofia’s cheeks flushed fiercely, and she couldn’t help but cover her face in an attempt to hide it. “It’s nothing, just work clothes...” She said bashfully.
Katya was quiet for several long moments, bringing Sofia to uncover her face and look at her curiously. Katya was looking at her closely as she took a drag of her cigarette, head tilted back as her eyes trailed up and down Sofia’s frame thoughtfully. Sofia could almost physically feel her eyes against her, heart pounding from the attention.
“I want to try something with you.” Katya said, leaning towards the coffee table to put out her cigarette before standing. “Wait here a second, I’ll be back.”
Katya swayed a little as she disappeared into the bedroom. Sofia let out a deep breath when she was out of sight, putting her hand to her chest as if to try and calm her heart like it was a frightened cat. She looked to the door leading out of the suite, some part of her screaming to leave now; she’d run all the way home, doing everything she could to forget this night ever happened. She couldn’t let her affections for another woman get the best of her like this. Nonetheless, despite her anxiety, Sofia stayed put, listening to a muffled shuffling in the other room.
It didn’t take long for Katya to return, holding a pile of neatly folded clothes in her arms. She had a mischievous smile on her face, looking Sofia over as if sizing her up, compared to the clothes she held out towards her.
“Try this on for me.” She said with a playful look in her eyes.
Sofia stared at the clothes in Katya’s hands as she slowly pushed herself up to her feet. “I...I can’t, um—I don’t want to, uhh...impose?” She stammered with a bewildered laugh. “I don’t think that’s the right word I’m looking for, but...I’m sure it’s a very expensive outfit, right?”
Katya gave her an indifferent shrug. “It doesn’t matter. Just try it on, it’ll be fun.”
Sofia laughed again, stepping around the coffee table to stand in front of Katya. Their hands brushed against one another as Katya gave her the clothes, her skin soft and warm against her own. Sofia stepped into the bedroom, expecting privacy, but Katya leaned against the doorframe, watching her shamelessly. Sofia bit down hard on her lip as she set the pile of clothes down gently on the dresser, looking down at the floor as she slipped the straps of her overalls off her shoulders.
This was improper, wasn’t it? She thought as her blood pounded in her ears. Maybe not for an average pair of regular, friendly women, she supposed—but for a person like herself? This was ludicrous. She couldn’t believe she was doing it, undressing under the watchful eye of another woman. If Katya knew how this was making her feel, it would disgust her, wouldn’t it? It was too late to turn back now, though; she would just have to do her best to steady her shaking hands as she picked up the first piece of clothing offered to her.
She hadn’t been able to tell when it was all folded up neatly, but as she started to inspect Katya’s choices for her, she realized she was being given a suit. Not the conservative suits she saw women wearing on the street, either; it was loose, sturdy, and masculine. Sofia finally turned her gaze to Katya, forcing herself to make eye contact with her again.
“Is this your husband’s?” She asked her.
Sofia felt tense all over, swallowing hard when Katya looked her over again. “It is.” Katya answered casually.
“I...I can’t wear your husband’s clothes.” Sofia said shakily, looking back down to the floor.
“Yes, you can. I’d like you to.” Katya encouraged with a lighthearted tone.
Sofia took a deep breath in a desperate bid to steady her heart again. Then, she started to dress herself in her husband’s suit. The fabric was soft and thick, clearly made for the harsh winter months. Putting it on, she remembered a time from her childhood she’d decided to sneak into her father’s closet to try on his clothes; she expected the same disappointment when she’d find it didn’t fit her, but she was surprised to find the pants hugged her hips comfortably, the button-up wrapping around her neatly. The sleeves were a bit long on her, the shoulders a little baggy, but altogether, this was a much more successful experiment than when she was a child. When the shirt was buttoned up all the way, Katya approached to pick up a wayward tie, throwing it over Sofia’s neck and popping the collar up to fit the tie snugly underneath. Sofia’s breath caught in her throat at the feeling of Katya’s hands against her, warmth seeping through the button-up as she expertly tied the tie on her behalf. Sofia was stiff as a board, unable to breathe at all, anymore as Katya worked. Once the tie was secure, Katya helped her with the vest, then finally the jacket. Sofia did both buttons on the jacket, but Katya gave her a displeased hum, undoing the bottom button. Lastly, Katya placed a hat on Sofia’s head before taking a step back to look at her.
Sofia had never thought she could be looked at the way Katya stared at her, now. It was as if her brain was overloaded, the support beams of how she viewed herself as a woman now creaking and cracking under the weight of her present situation. Katya smiled wide, standing closer to her again to brush the shoulders of the jacket before physically turning Sofia to face the mirror leaned against the adjacent wall.
Everything Sofia knew about herself came crashing down when she saw herself in the mirror. She couldn’t expect the suit to fit her perfectly, physically speaking, and yet she’d never felt more at home in a simple outfit. The white suit with black lining emphasized her shoulders and flattened her curves, sculpting her into a new figure. She couldn’t help the giggles that came pouring out of her, followed by an embarrassing snort that was impossible to hold back. She covered her face, trying to bite back the elated laughter that wanted to escape from her chest like a waterfall. She felt Katya’s hands rest lightly on her shoulders again from behind, and Sofia peeked out from between her fingers, watching Katya lean to the side slightly to look around her into the mirror.
“I think you make for a very handsome woman.” Katya said, squeezing Sofia’s shoulders.
Handsome. Yes, Sofia thought in a moment of deep, uncharacteristic confidence—she was handsome. It was like a weight lifted off her shoulders. She didn’t have to try and be beautiful, in the same way the women she admired were. A whole new world was opened up for her, now. Sofia was handsome.
“Thank you.” Sofia breathed out, when she finally found her voice again.
Katya hummed as she sidled up closer to Sofia, wrapping her arms loosely around her shoulders and leaning against her back. Sofia lost the ability to breathe all over again, staring at their reflection as her heart raced faster than she thought possible. She was convinced Katya could feel her pulse; if she did, though, she was kind enough not to comment on it as she held Sofia gently in her arms. Sofia closed her eyes, allowing herself to indulge in this wonderful feeling blooming in her chest and stomach.
They were quiet for a long time, aside from their gentle breaths. It was only then that Sofia noticed the soft ticking of a clock somewhere in the room. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock —the seconds seemed to stretch out, as if time itself was slowing down to let Sofia enjoy this moment as much as she possibly could. She lifted her hands to gently touch Katya’s forearms, tilting her head back just a little bit against her. Then, she felt it—soft lips pressed against her neck. Sofia opened her eyes, looking in disbelief at the reflection of Katya kissing her tender skin. Sofia swallowed hard, her fingers grasping Katya’s forearms tighter before she could even think about it, her body acting of its own accord; it knew what she wanted before her brain did, it interpreted the situation much quicker, even as Sofia’s mind tried to dismiss this in an effort to protect her.
The ticking of the clock seemed to grow louder, somehow louder than the pounding in Sofia’s ears. What she had with Katya in this moment—what she could have—was beautiful and terrifying all at once. Katya lifted a hand to press her fingertips to Sofia’s chin, encouraging her to turn her head towards her. She kissed her cheek, then, clearly making her way slowly to Sofia’s lips.
All at once, Sofia’s fears got the better of her. She broke away from Katya, stumbling towards the bedroom door as she struggled to breathe properly, as if she’d held her breath underwater for too long.
“Are you alright?” Katya asked with clear concern in her tone.
Sofia turned to look back at Katya. “I—I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She managed, unbuttoning the jacket and throwing it off. “I have to go. I need to go home.”
Katya was quiet as Sofia undressed, pulling her own clothes back on with trembling hands. Once she was decent again, she walked out to the living room, finding her shoes and slipping them back on. Katya followed at a distance to watch her, a deep frown on her face when their eyes met again.
“I’m sorry.” Sofia repeated quietly. “I...it’s...i-it’s too much. Too much for me right now.”
Katya gave Sofia an understanding nod. “Of course. Don’t apologize, Sofia, it was me who overstepped.”
Sofia let out a small breath, toying with her fingers anxiously, now that it was time for her to leave. She was torn—she wanted to change her mind and throw herself into Katya’s arms, but she knew she couldn’t do something so bold. No matter how badly she wanted it, no matter how much she was certain she’d regret walking away tonight, she just couldn’t do it.
“Will I see you again?” Katya asked, breaking their tense silence.
Sofia swallowed hard, giving it a long moment of thought. Finally, she nodded. “Yeah.” She answered slowly. “I’d like that.”
Katya smiled at her warmly. “I’d like that, too.” She said, approaching the coffee table and picking up the pinned butterfly. She held it out to Sofia, gently placing it in her palm. “Hold onto this for me, would you?”
Sofia stared down at it in surprise before nodding. “...Yeah. Okay.” She said, cupping it in her hands carefully. “Um...you know where to find me, when you have the time to meet me again.”
Katya gave her a nod of agreement. “I’ll try to make it soon.” She promised.
They went quiet again, emphasizing the gentle ticking of the clock in the bedroom. Slowly, Sofia said goodbye, walking to the door out of the suite to pull it open. With one final glance over her shoulder at Katya, she stepped out into the hallway, shutting the door behind her.
It wasn’t the last time she ever saw Katya. It wasn’t the only time their mutual feelings towards one another were made known. Nothing about that meeting was final—their lives became inexorably intertwined after that, as natural as any other force of nature. At first, it was for the better, giving Sofia a type of happiness she hadn’t thought she’d ever be allowed to taste. Time had its way with her, though, as did Katya. Just as the springtime months they spent together were the warmest of Sofia’s life, that winter in Naples was also the coldest.