They occasionally dined together, sometimes even opening a bottle of wine. Roger seemed knowledgeable about wine, with a particular preference for red wine.
Sophia would usually only take a small sip; she wasn't particularly fond of the taste of red wine—it was too acidic, too intense.
She couldn't help but think of the sweet white wine Capone had stocked up for her, the Black Label that had once floored both him and Lucas, and the brandy she had specially added to the tiramisu she made for him...
Their relationship was like that—not lacking in intensity, with a bit of sharpness on the first taste, but leaving a lingering aftertaste.
She would sometimes get lost in these thoughts, and Roger wouldn't press her, giving her the time and space she needed. After all, she wasn't the same blank-slate girl he had first met; she had gone through a lot, leaving marks on her heart. He knew he'd have to patiently wait for those marks to fade, or perhaps be sealed away over time.
