The restaurant was simple, small, charming. A hidden place in the Santa Teresa neighborhood, with dim lighting, wooden tables, and the scent of basil in the air. There were no photographers, no fawning waiters. Just ordinary people, eating and laughing quietly.
Elisa loved the atmosphere.
How did you find this place? ... she asked, as they sat at a table near the window, overlooking the city lights.
Eduardo smiled.
One of the engineers at the company told me about it. He comes here with his wife every Friday. Said the ravioli here can even heal a broken heart.
She laughed, relaxing.
Then I think you chose well. Broken hearts need good seasoning.
The waiter brought the menu and they chose together. They shared a glass of white wine and an appetizer of bruschetta with tomato confit.
During dinner, they talked about everything except the past.
